Since every road man Journeys by,
Ends on a hillside far from Home
Under an alien sky
- Walter de la Mare
नको, नको, का आपण ह्यापुढ भटकायच
कारण माणसान तुडवलेला प्रत्येक रस्ता,
संपतो एखाद्या टेकाडावर घरापासून लांब
परक्या आकाशाच्या खाली
- वॉल्टर डी ला मेअर
(अनुवाद माझा)
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कवितेला शीर्षक नाही
POEM
BY WALTER DE LA MARE
Scarce stirred the air. She bowed her
head.
No sign I made that heart had heard;
I, too, was weary and sped.
Above us loomed the night-black tree;
Beneath, a valley in shadow lay;
A waning moon beyond the sea
Cast a faint sickly ray.
Once, 'Oh, have courage!' had been
my cry;
Now mutely aghast I gazed into
A face distorted, caught the sigh
That shook her through and through
No, no. Why further should we roam,
Since every road man journeys by
Ends on a hillside far from home
Under an alien sky;
Where souls disconsolate and sick
That Valley scans each treads alone,
And a Sea whose menace leaves the
quick
Colder than churchyard stone.
(The Living Age, Volume 319, 1925)
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