Sara Teasdale (Сара Тисдейл)

The Net

I made you many and many a song,
 Yet never one told all you are—
It was as though a net of words
 Were flung to catch a star;

It was as though I curved my hand
 And dipped sea-water eagerly,
Only to find it lost the blue
 Dark splendor of the sea.

1. In a Cuban Garden
2. Understanding
3. White Fog
4. Arcturus
5. Bells

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1585

Последние стихотворения

To English version