between two tall skeletons of birches
i walk right into the heart of mid-autumn
with the city gate as my starting point
but without any predetermined destination
along a less frequently trodden trail
i keep traveling behind my own soul
each time I climb onto a little ridge
i see another higher up just ahead
it is not a question of uphill or downhill
nor a choice between two different roads
once standing on the peak to look back
i find all mountains so surprisingly small
End of the poem
15 random poems
- April’s Charms by William Henry Davies
- The Gardener LXIV: I Spent My Day by Rabindranath Tagore
- the secrets , we hide by tulip
- Ок Мельникова – Hey jude
- Lines of John M’Murdo by Robert Burns
- Between the Showers poem – Amy Levy poems | Poems and Poetry
- Indignation Of A High-Minded Spaniard by William Wordsworth
- Sea World by Nin Andrews
- To Mr. Cyriack Skinner Upon His Blindness poem – John Milton poems
- Алексей Толстой – Прогулка с подругой жизни
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Тайна
- Confession by Neelam Sinha
- Вера Звягинцева – Качаешься в гробу стеклянном
- Go Get The Goodly Squab by Sylvia Plath
- The Fiddling Wood by Stephen Vincent Benet
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).
