Martyn Bates - Embers, Starry Tapers | Текст песни

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• Martyn Bates
• Embers, Starry Tapers

sweep the faint strings,musician/
with thy long lean hand: downward the
starry tapers burn/
sinks soft the waning sand/
the old hound whimpers
crouched in sleep/
the embers smoulder low/
across the walls the shadows
come and go
sweep softly thy strings, musician/
the minutes mount to hours/
frost on the windless casement weaves/
a labyrinth of flowers/
ghosts linger in the darkening air/
hearken at the open door/
music hath called them, dreaming/
home one more.
(poem by "Walter de La Mare" circa 1920)


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