Sonnet
de George Bacovia(2005)
1 min lectură
Mediu
Night wet, oppressive, one could drown outside;
In thick fog: red and wearying here and there
Burn sadly street-lamps without gleam of light:
A wet and dirty pot-house, as it were.
Still darker on the outskirts seems the night…
Sad hovels are now flooded everywhere,
A dry and bitter cough is echoed wide
Through crumbling walls dilapidated there.
Like Edgar Poe, I am returning home,
Or like Verlaine, quite liquefied with gin —
On such a night nothing can worry me.
And then, with steps of strange enormity
I grope about some time at my own home,
Tumbling, tumbling again, bawling within.
Translated by Alfred Margul-Sperber
Despre aceasta lucrare
- Autor
- George Bacovia
- Tip
- Poezie
- An
- 2005
- Curent
- Simbolism
- Cuvinte
- 106
- Citire
- 1 min
- Versuri
- 15
- Actualizat
Cum sa citezi
George Bacovia. “Sonnet.” Clasici, Poezie.ro, https://poezie.ro/clasici/george-bacovia/poezie/sonnetIntrebari frecvente
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