Loppusointuja

Rakastan englanninkielisiä loppusointuja. Rakastan Eino Leinoa myös. Mutta aina kun törmään hyvään (hädin tuskin ymmärrettävään) runoon, tulee mieleen, että osaisipa tämän ulkoa. Miksi? Kuvittelen itseni lausumassa sitä. En tosin osaa kuvitella miksi ja missä ja milloin. Ehkäpä pitkin näitä öitä, jolloin käy hyssyttelemässä kuumeista kuopusta.

THE TIME you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners come,	5
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay	10
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers	15
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.	20
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that early-laurelled head	25
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl’s.