.  --------------------------------------------------------------- The Complete Poems of Stephen Crane : , , OCR: . --------------------------------------------------------------- The Complete Poems of Stephen Crane " " - 1895 - - 1 - Black riders came from the sea. There was clang and clang of spear and shield, And clash and clash of hoof and heel, Wild shouts and the wave of hair In the rush upon the wind: Thus the ride of Sin. . , , , , . . . . , , , , : . . - 2 - Three little birds in a row Sat musing. A man passed near that place. Then did the little birds nudge each other. They said: "He thinks he can sing". They threw back their heads to laugh. With quaint countenances They regarded him. They were very curious, Those three little birds in a row. , . . . - ? , ! - . . , ! . - 3 - In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, Who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it. I said: "Is it good, friend?" "It is bitter-bitter," he answered; "But I like it Because it is bitter, And because it is my heart." - , ; , . : - , ? - , ! - , , . . , , . : - , ? - : - - , , , . . - 4 - Yes, I have a thousand tongues, And nine and ninety-nine lie. Though I strive to use the one, It will make no melody at my will, But is dead in my mouth. , , . , , , . . - 5 - Once there came a man Who said: "Range me all men of the world in rows." And instandy There was terrific clamor among the people Against being ranged in rows. There was a loud quarrel, world-wide. It endured for ages; And blood was shed By those who would not stand in rows, And by those who pined to stand in rows. Eventually, the man went to death, weeping. And those who stayed in bloody scuffle Knew not great simplicity. , : - ! - . ; . , . , , . , , . . , : " ". , . , ; , , , . , . , , . . - 6 - God fashioned the ship of the world carefully. With the infinite skill of an all-master Made He the hull and the sails, Held He the rudder Ready for adjustment. Erect stood He, scanning His work proudly. Then-at fateful time-a wrong called, And God turned, heeding. Lo, the ship, at this opportunity, slipped slyly, Making cunning noiseless travel down the ways. So that, forever rudderless, it went upon the seas Going ridiculous voyages, Making quaint progress, Turning as with serious purpose Before stupid winds. And there were many in the sky Who laughed at this thing. . , , . , . - - , . - - - , , . , , , , , , . . . . , , . , . , , - , , , , , , - - - , , , , , , . , . . - 7 - Mystic shadow, bending near me, Who art thou? Whence come ye? And-tell me-is it fair Or is the truth bitter as eaten fire? Tell me! Fear not that I should quaver, For I dare-I dare. Then, tell me! , , ? ? , , , , ? ! , , . , ! . - 8 - I looked here; I looked there; Nowhere could I see my love. And-this lime- She was in my heart. Truly, then, I have no complaint, For though she be fair and fairer, She is none so fair as she In my heart. , ; . . - , , . . - 9 - I stood upon a high place, And saw, below, many devils Running, leaping. And carousing in sin. One looked up, grinning, And said: "Comrade! Brother!" , , , , . , , : - ! ! . - 10 - Should the wide world roll away, Leaving black terror, Limitless night, Nor God, nor man, nor place to stand Would be to me essential, If thou and thy white arms were there, And the fall to doom a long way. , , , , , , , - , , , . . - 11 - In a lonely place, I encountered a sage Who sat, all still, Regarding a newspaper. He accosted me: "Sir, what is this?" Then I saw that I was greater, Aye, greater than this sage. I answered him at once: "Old, old man, it is the wisdom of the age." The sage looked upon me with admiration. , , . : - , ? , , . : - , , , . . . , , . : ", ?" , , , , . : ", ". . . - 12 - "And the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the heads of the children, even unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me." Well, then, I hate Thee, unrighteous picture; Wicked image, I hate Thee; So, strike with Thy vengeance The heads of those little men Who come blindly. It will be a brave thing. . , , , , . , , , . ! . - 13 - If there is a witness to my little life, To my tiny throes and struggles, He sees a fool; And it is not fine for gods to menace fools. , , - , , . . . - 14 - There was crimson clash of war. Lands turned black and bare; Women wept; Babes ran, wondering. There came one who understood not these things. He said: "Why is this?" Whereupon a million strove to answer him. There was such intricate clamor of tongues, That still the reason was not. . , , . , . : - ? . , . . . ; ; , . , . : " ?" . , . . - 15 - "Tell brave deeds of war." Then they recounted tales: "There were stern stands And bitter runs for glory." Ah, I think there were braver deeds. - . : - . , , ! . - 16 - Charity, thou art a lie, A toy of women, A pleasure of certain men. In the presence of justice, Lo, the walls of the temple Are visible Through thy form of sudden shadows. , - , , . - e- , - . . - 17 - There were many who went in huddled procession, They knew not whither; But, at any rate, success or calamity Would attend all in equality. There was one who sought a new road. He went into direful thickets, And ultimately he died thus, alone; But they said he had courage. , . , , - - . , . . , . . , ; , , . , . , , , ; , , . . - 18 - In Heaven, Some little blades of grass Stood before God. "What did you do?" Then all save one of the little blades Began eagerly to relate The merits of their lives. This one stayed a small way behind, Ashamed. Presently, God said: "And what did you do?" The little blade answered: "Oh, my Lord, Memory is bitter to me, For, if I did good deeds, I know not of them." Then God, in all His splendor, Arose from His throne. "Oh, best little blade of grass!" He said. . - ? - . , , . , . : - ? - , - , - . - , . . - ! - . . . - ? , , . , . : - ? - - , - , - , . - , , : - ! . - 19 - A god in wrath Was beating a man; He cuffed him loudly With thunderous blows That rang and rolled over the earth. All people came running. The man screamed and struggled, And bit madly at the feet of the god. The people cried: "Ah, what a wicked man!" And- "Ah, what a redoubtable god!" , , ; . . , . : - , ! : - , ! . - 20 - A learned man came to me onge. He said: "I know the way,-come." And I was overjoyed at this. Together we hastened. Soon, too soon, were we Where my eyes were useless, And I knew not the ways of my feet. I clung to the hand of my friend; But at last he cried: "I am lost." . : - . ! . , . , , , . , : - ! . - 21 - There was, before me, Mile upon mile Of snow, ice, burning sand. And yet I could look beyond all this, To a place of infinite beauty; And I could see the loveliness of her Who walked in the shade of the trees. When I gazed, All was lost But this place of beauty and her. When I gazed. And in my gazing, desired, Then came again Mile upon mile, Of snow, ice, burning sand. , , . - ; , . - . , , - , , . . , , . ; , , . , , . , , . , , . . - 22 - Once I saw mountains angry, And ranged in battle-front. Against them stood a little man; Aye, he was no bigger than my finger. I laughed, and spoke to one near me: "Will he prevail?" "Surely," replied this other; "His grandfathers beat them many times." Then did I see much virtue in grandfathers, At least, for the little man Who stood against the mountains. , , - ; , . : - ? - , - , - . , ; , , . . , . ; -, . : " ?". ", - , - ". , - , - , , . . - 23 - Places among the stars, Soft gardens near the sun, Keer your distant beauty; Shed no beams upon my weak heart. Since she is here In a place of blackness, Not your golden days Nor your silver nights Can call me to you. Since she is here In a place of blackness, Here I stay and wait. , , , . , , , . , , . . - 24 - I saw a man pursuing the horizon; Round and round they sped. I was disturbed at this; I accosted the man. "It is futile," I said, "You can never-" "You lie," he cried, And ran on. , . . : - , - , - . ... - ! - . . , . , : - , ... - ! - . . - 25 - Behold, the grave of a wicked man, And near it, a stern spirit. There came a drooping maid with violets, But the spirit grasped her arm. "No flowers for him," he said. The maid wept: "Ah, I loved him." But the spirit, grim and frowning; "No flowers for him." Now, this is it - If the spirit was just, Why did the maid weep? - ; . , . - , - . : - ! . , , ; - ! - , ? . - 26 - There was set before me a mighty hill, And long days I climbed Through regions of snow. When I had before me the summit-view, It seemed that my labor Had been to see gardens Lying at impossible distances. , , . , , , , . . - 27 - A youth in apparel that glittered Went to walk in a grim forest. There he met an assassin Attired all in garb of old days; He, scowling through the thickets, And dagger poised quivering. Rushed upon the youth. "Sir," said this latter, "I am enchanted, believe me, To die, thus, In this medieval fashion, According to the best legends; Ah, what joy!" Then took he the wound, smiling, And died, content. , . , . , . - , - , - , , , . , ! , . . - 28 - "Truth," said a traveller, "Is a rock, a mighty fortress; Often have I been to it, Even to its highest tower, From whence the world looks black." "Trurh," said a traveller, "Is a breath, a wind, A shadow, a phantom; Long have I pursued it, But never have I touched The hem of its garment." And I believed the second traveller; For truth was to me A breath, a wind, A shadow, a phantom, And never had I touched The hem of its garment. - , - , - , . , , . - , - , - , , . , . , , , , , . . - 29 - Behold, from the land of the farther suns I returned. And I was in a reptile-swarming place, Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces, Shrouded above in black impenelrableness. I shrank, loathing. Sick with it. And I said to him: "What is this?" He made answer slowly: "Spirit, this is a world; This was your home." , . , , , . - . : - , ? : - , ; , . - 30 - Supposing that I should have the courage To let a red sword of virtue Plunge into my heart, Letting to the weeds of the ground My sinful blood, What can you offer me? A gardened castle? A flowery kingdom? What? A hope? Then hence with your red sword of virtue. , , , , , . ? , ? ? ? ? , , ? . - 31 - Many workmen Built a huge ball of masonry Upon a mountain-top. Then they went to the valley below, And turned to behold their work. "It is grand," they