1 min read
Слушать(AI)Kin To Sorrow
Am I kin to Sorrow,
That so oft Falls the knocker of my door — Neither loud nor soft,
But as long accustomed,
Under Sorrow's hand?
Marigolds around the step And rosemary stand,
And then comes Sorrow — And what does Sorrow care For the rosemary Or the marigolds there?
Am I kin to Sorrow?
Are we kin?
That so oft upon my door — Oh, come in!
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
The Unexplorer
There was a road ran past our Too lovely to explore I asked my mother once — she That if you followed where it
I Being Born A Woman And Distressed
I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind, Am urged by your propinquity to Your person fair, and feel a certain To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
Love Is Not All
Love is not all: it is not meat nor Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again; Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
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