-"Он шлет любовь тебе,"- твердят,
Но на ладошку не кладут,
Прошу отдать мне - говорят,
Что дети это не поймут.
Куда-то прячут от меня.
Любовь, как драгоценный клад,
Искала допоздна, но зря.
С усмешкой в сторону глядят,
С любовью буду я добрей,
Мне говорят. Она - в душе.
Прислал бы что-то повкусней,
От кашля, например, драже.
***
Grandfather's Love
They said he sent his love to me,
They wouldn't put it in my hand,
And when I asked them where it was
They said I couldn't understand.
I thought they must have hidden it,
I hunted for it all the day,
And when I told them so at night
They smiled and turned their heads away.
They say that love is something kind,
That I can never see or touch.
I wish he'd sent me something else,
I like his cough-drops twice as much.
Sara Teasdale