·
2 мин
Слушать

In The Forest

RE,

O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead,

Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red,

Here let us burn them in noon's flaming torches of fire.

We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long we have borne The heavy loved burden of dreams that are dead, let us rest,

Let us scatter their ashes away, for a while let us mourn;

We will rest,

O my heart, till the shadows are gray in the west.

But soon we must rise,

O my heart, we must wander again Into the war of the world and the strife of the throng;

Let us rise,

O my heart, let us gather the dreams that remain,

We will conquer the sorrow of life with the sorrow of song.

0
0
58
Подарок

Sarojini Naidu

Sarojini Chattopadhyay Naidu (13 February 1879 – 2 March 1949) was an Indian political activist and poet. A proponent of civil rights, women's e…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Сегодня читают
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.