We have done what we wanted.
We have discarded dreams, preferring the heavy industry
of each other, and we have welcomed grief
and called ruin the impossible habit to break.
And now we are here.
The dinner is ready and we cannot eat.
The meat sits in the white lake of its dish.
The wine waits.
Coming to this
has its rewards: nothing is promised, nothing is taken away.
We have no heart or saving grace,
no place to go, no reason to remain.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- “Mike Teavee…” by Roald Dahl
- The Symptoms of Love by William Cowper
- Галина Гампер – Я вгоняла содержанье
- Tractor by Ted Hughes
- Easter, 1916 by William Butler Yeats
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Ты холодна
- Sunday Morning Blues poem – A. D. Winans poems | Poetry Monster
- Loud Silence by Preethi Saravanakumar
- London Roses by Willa Cather
- Poor Mailie’s Elegy by Robert Burns
- A Little Song poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Владимир Маяковский – Нетрудно, ландышами дыша
- Robert Burns: To The Beautiful Miss Eliza J-N: On her Principles of Liberty and Equality.
- Владимир Британишский – Никитенко
- I Keep Six Honest… by Rudyard Kipling
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
