Richard Wilbur PoetryWhat is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you. |
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To the Etruscan Poets
Dream fluently, still brothers, who when young
Took with your mother's milk the mother tongue, In which pure matrix, joining world and mind, You strove to leave some line of verse behind Like still fresh tracks across a field of snow, Not reckoning that all could melt and go.
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Date: 14 January, 2008 2008 Copyright PoetryCraze.com. |