So many stones are thrown at me
that I no longer cower,
the turret’s cage is shapely,
high among high towers.
My thanks, to its builders,
may they escape pain and woe,
here, I see suns rise earlier,
here, their last splendours glow.
And often winds from northern seas
fill the windows of my sanctuary,
and a dove eats corn from my palm…
and divinely light and calm,
the Muse’s sunburnt hand’s at play,
finishing my unfinished page.
May 2013 M T W T F S S « Feb 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31
- @ClassicBookworm Thanks for nice chat, now I'll go to bed, too much excitement & walking today. Till tomorrow. Have a nice day. 12 hours ago
- Priznajem, ne razumijem što je pisac želio reći! >>'Neće HDZ-ova bizantska politika dovoditi Hrvatsku u pitanje' bit.ly/16KmJ8r 12 hours ago
- @ClassicBookworm That's good news. Here they have such laws, no chance for any referendum to succeed. 12 hours ago
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