1 min read
Слушать(AI)In The Forest
Out of the mid-wood's
Into the meadow's dawn,
Ivory limbed and brown-eyed,
Flashes my Faun!
He skips through the copses singing,
And his shadow dances along,
And I know not which I should follow,
Shadow or song!
O Hunter, snare me his shadow!
O Nightingale, catch me his strain!
Else moonstruck with music and madnessI track him in vain!
Oscar Wilde
Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde (16 October 1854 – 30 November 1900) was an Irish poet and playwright. After writing in different forms thr
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Endymion
OR IC ) HE apple trees are hung with gold, And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold, The wild goat runs across the wold, But yesterday his love he told, I know he will come back to me...
Italia
IA thou art fallen, though with sheen Of battle-spears thy clamorous armies stride From the north Alps to the Sicilian tide Ay fallen, though the nations hail thee Queen Because rich gold in every town is seen, And on thy sapphire l...
Charmides
HE was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's prow, and let the foam Blow through his crisp brown curls unconsciously, And holding wave and wind in boy's despite Peered from his dripping seat acro...
Les Ballons
Against these turbid turquoise The light and luminous Dip and drift like satin Drift like silken butterflies;
