sailing - Popular Poems and stories from category

[February 1954]Your nurse could only speak Italian, but after twenty minutes I could imagine your final week, and tears ran down my cheeks
When I embarked from Italy with my Mother’s body, the whole shoreline of the Golfo di Genova was breaki...

I
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees,
—Those dying generations—at their song,