Sylvia Plath reads November Graveyard

In this poem, Sylvia talks about the cemetery in Heptonstall. She was buried there in 1963. ГОЛОСА ЗАРУБЕЖНЫХ ПИСАТЕЛЕЙ November Graveyard The scene stands stubborn: skinflint trees Hoard last year’s leaves, won’t mourn, wear sackcloth, or turn To elegiac dryads, and dour grass Guards the hard-hearted emerald of its grassiness However the grandiloquent mind may scorn Such poverty. No dead men’s cries Flower forget-me-nots between the stones Paving this grave ground. Here