PABLO NERUDA I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I . . .
Tag : Poem
The drop dies in the riverby Mirza Ghalib The drop dies in the riverof its joypain goes so far it cures itself in the spring after the heavy rain the . . .
I live my life in widening circlesthat reach out across the world.I may not complete this last onebut I give myself to it.I circle around God, around the . . .
Sunny beautiful Friday ,in Quebec I am Lilith, slave of no manIn the Night, when it is quietI can hear your whispersLike an owl, I take flightA serpent . . .
[Last day in Australia ,] Let not pious judge the meek, Each for his own deeds will speak. Whether I am good or bad,you judge yourself, You reap what you . . .
