English poems. A Spring Storm17 мар
chuckling, sporting spring
grumbles in mock anger;
young thunder claps,
a spatter of rain and flying dust
and wet pearls hanging
threaded by sun-gold;
a speedy current scampers from the hills.
Such a commotion in the woods!
Noises cartwheel down the mountains.
Every sound is echoed round the sky.
You'd think capricious Hebe,
feeding the eagle of Zeus,
had raised a thunder-foaming goblet,
unable to restrain her mirth,
and tipped it on the earth.