1 min read
Слушать(AI)Witch-Wife
She is neither pink nor pale, And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.
She has more hair than she needs; In the sun 'tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of colored beads, Or steps leading into the sea.
She loves me all that she can, And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man, And she never will be all mine.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay (February 22, 1892 – October 19, 1950) was an American lyrical poet and playwright.
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Counting-Out Rhyme
Silver bark of beech, and Bark of yellow birch and yellow Twig of willow Stripe of green in moosewood maple, Colour seen in leaf of apple, Bark of popple
When The Year Grows Old
I cannot but When the year grows old — October — November — How she disliked the cold She used to watch the Go down across the sky,
Second Fig
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date The lyrical form of this poem is aa
Love Is Not Blind I See With Single Eye
Love is not blind I see with single eye Your ugliness and other women's grace I know the imperfection of your face, The eyes too wide apart, the brow too high For beauty
