·
2 мин
Слушать

To Earthward

Love at the lips was touch

As sweet as I could bear;

And once that seemed too much;

I lived on air


That crossed me from sweet things,

The flow of—was it musk

From hidden grapevine springs

Downhill at dusk?


I had the swirl and ache

From sprays of honeysuckle

That when they're gathered shake

Dew on the knuckle.


I craved strong sweets, but those

Seemed strong when I was young;

The petal of the rose

It was that stung.


Now no joy but lacks salt,

That is not dashed with pain

And weariness and fault;

I crave the stain


Of tears, the aftermark

Of almost too much love,

The sweet of bitter bark

And burning clove.


When stiff and sore and scarred

I take away my hand

From leaning on it hard

In grass and sand,


The hurt is not enough:

I long for weight and strength

To feel the earth as rough

To all my length. 

0
0
100
Подарок

Robert Frost

Robert Lee Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963) was an American poet. His work was initially published in England before it was published i…
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.