jueves, 20 de agosto de 2009

Wet day





I wanted to exert a nice poem as a description of these two pictures, but I can't think of any interesting poets, maybe Sylvia Plath but her poetry is distraught. If I come across an appropriate poem for these pictures, I will bring it about to make this post complete.


EDIT:

Romance - Edgar Allan Poe

Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been- a most familiar bird-
Taught me my alphabet to say-
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child- with a most knowing eye.

Of late, eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings-
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away- forbidden things!
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.

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