воскресенье, 16 ноября 2014 г.

Reading : Autumn Rain by Mary T. Lathrap

Hello, dear learners! 

The topic for discussion today is RAIN.
We know different types of rains, don't we? Spring, summer and autumn  rains  make us feel the different ways. 

Today, let's read a poem about  autumn rain. You may think that it is too sad, but our life is not only joy and happiness. You know,  we won't be able to admire the brightness of spring without sadness of  autumn.






 Autumn Rain
  by: Mary T. Lathrap (1838-1895)


There's a sad, sad voice in the autumn rain,
Mournful rain;
As it beateth slowly against the pane,
Window pane.
And the wind sings by with a conscious breath,
And seems like a messenger whispering death,
As the flowers bend with a drooping eye--
Bend and die.


What gives such a sadness unto the rain?
Autumn rain;
For it sobs like a human heart in pain,
A heart in pain;
Does it know its drops with a chilly tread
Lie cold on the beauty that now is dead?
Does it know the beautiful must decay?
Passing away.

Sure the summer rain had a merry tone,
A laughing tone;
Its patter made melody all its own,
Yes, all its own;
The flowers looked up when it came from the skies,
And the drops for mischief fell right in their eyes,
And sparkled in brightness like mimic tears,
Joyful tears.

Then tell me, why is it this autumn rain,
Mournful rain,
Chills my very heart as it sweeps the pane?
Dripping pane.
Is it that it sighs o'er a summer fled,
O'er the graves where more than flowers lie dead;
Is it that memory lendeth a strain
To the sobbing rain?

O where are the hopes of the bright spring tide?
Sweet spring tide.
With the summer blossoms they too have died,
Yes, they have died.
They have fled away; will their bloom come back?
Will they bless again as I tread life's track?
Or, by and by on some other shore
Bloom evermore?

Sob on,--it is well,--O passionate rain;
'T is well, O rain,
Tho' the flowers now faded may bloom again,
Will bloom again;
 Some things that have died with the summer's light,
 Some things that have fled with the summer's flight,
Will never, no, never, come back again,
Sob on, O rain! 

Vocabulary 
 mournful  /ˈmɔːnfəl- feeling, expressing, or inducing sadness, regret/ скорбный
 pane   - a single sheet of glass in a window or door.
tread /tred- a manner or the sound of someone walking
decay /dɪˈkeɪ/- the state or process of rotting
pattera - repeated light tapping
mischief - playful misbehavior or troublemaking
flee (fled) -  run away from a place or situation of danger


 Hope, you have read other RAIN poems in this blog :


 April showers
A Kiss in the  Rain
Raindrops

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