Intrusion
M
Maxwell Bodenheim
0
Altın Yaprak
The lilies sag with rain-drops:
Their petals hold fire that does not break out.
(As though it slept between vapor-silk
It could not burn).
And a young breeze stumbles upon the lilies
And strokes them with his spinning hands. . . .
The lilies and the young breeze are not unlike
Your silence and the rush of soft words breaking it.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş