Before Summer Rain
Suddenly, from all the green around you,
something-you don't know what-has disappeared;
you feel it creeping closer to the window,
in total silence. From the nearby wood
you hear the urgent whistling of a plover,
reminding you of someone's Saint Jerome:
so much solitude and passion come
from that one voice, whose fierce request the downpour
will grant. The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide
away from us, cautiously, as ...
Recent Comments
Robert Horvitz says,
Belated thanks for citing my work! I have a newer ...
article/about says,
Berber as well as Arab nomads took their caravans of ...
Betty Wood says,
Sometimes when I create something beautiful I feel like someone ...
snurfson says,
Part two follows: https://www.lypophrenia.com/2010/towards-the-splendid-city-pablo-nerudas-nobel-lecture-part-ii/zelda star says,
I would enjoy part two of this great lecture, please?