Rows of books around me stand,
Fence me in on either hand;
Through that forest of dead wordsI would hunt the living birds -So I write these lines for
Who have felt the death-wish too,
All the wires are cut, my
Live beyond the severed ends.
1 min read
СлушатьEpilogue
0
0
32
Give Award
Louis MacNeice
Frederick Louis MacNeice (12 September 1907 – 3 September 1963) was an Irish poet and playwright from Northern Ireland, and a member of the Aude…
Other author posts
Sunday Morning
Dwn th ra smn is pratising sals, Th nts lik littl fishs vanish with a wink f tails, Man's hart xpans t tinkr with his ar Fr this is Sunay mrning, Fat's grat bazaar;…
House On A Cliff
Inrs th tang f a tiny il lamp Th winking signal n th wast f sa Inrs th sun f th win Outrs th win…
Snow
Th rm was sunly rih an th grat bay-winw Spawning snw an pink rss against Sunlssly llatral an inmpatibl: Wrl is sunr than w fany it…
The Suicide
An this, lais an gntlmn, whm I am nt in fat Cnuting, was his ffi all ths minuts ag, This man yu nvr har f Ths ar th bills In th intray, th ash in th ashtray, th gry mmrana stak Against him, th s...…
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
