Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“Here, Earth-born, over the lilt of the water,

Lisping its music and bearing a burden of light,

Bosoming day as a laughing and radiant daughter …

Here we may whisper unheard, unafraid of the night.

Walking alone … was it splendor, or what, we were bound with,

Deep in the time when summer lets down her hair?

Shadows we loved and the patterns they covered the ground with

Tapestries, mystical, faint in the breathless air.

That was the day … and the night for another story,

Pale as a dream and shadowed with pencilled trees—

Ghosts of the stars came by who had sought for glory,

Whispered to us of peace in the plaintive breeze,

Whispered of old dead faiths that the day had shattered,

Youth the penny that bought delight of the moon;

That was the urge that we knew and the language that mattered

That was the debt that we paid to the usurer June.

Here, deepest of dreams, by the waters that bring not

Anything back of the past that we need not know,