1 min read
Слушать(AI)On The Garden Wall
Oh, once I walked a garden In dreams. 'Twas yellow grass.
And many orange-trees grew there In sand as white as glass.
The curving, wide wall-border Was marble, like the snow.
I walked that wall a fairy-prince And, pacing quaint and slow,
Beside me were my pages,
Two giant, friendly birds.
Half swan they were, half peacock.
They spake in courtier-words.
Their inner wings a charriot,
Their outer wings for flight,
They lifted me from dreamland.
We bade those trees good-night.
Swiftly above the stars we rode.
I looked below me soon.
The white-walled garden I had ruled Was one lone flower—the moon.
Vachel Lindsay
Nicholas Vachel Lindsay (November 10, 1879 – December 5, 1931) was an American poet. He is considered a founder of modern singing poetry, as he
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Factory Windows Are Always Broken
Factory windows are always broken Somebody's always throwing bricks, Somebody's always heaving cinders, Playing ugly Yahoo tricks
Prologue To Rhymes To Be Traded For Bread
Even the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world's greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need Shelter and patient hearing,
A Curse For Kings
A curse upon each king who leads his state, No matter what his plea, to this foul game, And may it end his wicked dynasty, And may he die in exile and black shame
The Flower-Fed Buffaloes
The flower-fed buffaloes of the In the days of long ago, Ranged where the locomotives And the prairie flowers lie low:
