O you wind rose of torment!
Torn by primeval storms
In ever changing directions of the tempests;
Yet your south is loneliness,
Where you stand is the navel of pain.
Your eyes are sunk deep into your skull
Like cave-dwelling doves in the night
Brought out blind by the huntsman,
Your voice is silenced
From asking too many whys,
To the worms and the fishes your voice has gone.
Job, you have wept through all the watches of the night
But some day the star sign of your blood will
Outshine all the rising suns.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- To What Serves Mortal Beauty? poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Федор Сологуб – Зачем жемчуг-роса в траве
- The Little Dell by William Allingham
- Dining-Room Tea by Rupert Brooke
- Departure by Sylvia Plath
- In A Station Of The Metro poem – Ezra Pound poems
- The River Of Bees by W. S. Merwin
- Sonnet V
- Омар Хайям – Чистый дух, заключенный в нечистый сосуд
- Valley-dawn by Sunil Sharma
- O Tan-faced Prairie Boy. by Walt Whitman
- Composed By The Side Of Grasmere Lake 1806 by William Wordsworth
- Владимир Степанов – Хлопотунья
- Жан де Лафонтен – Пьяница и Жена его
- London, 1802 by William Wordsworth
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).
