The bonsai tree
in the attractive pot
could have grown eighty feet tall
on the side of a mountain
till split by lightning.
But a gardener
carefully pruned it.
It is nine inches high.
Every day as he
whittles back the branches
the gardener croons,
It is your nature
to be small and cozy,
domestic and weak;
how lucky, little tree,
to have a pot to grow in.
With living creatures
one must begin very early
to dwarf their growth:
the bound feet,
the crippled brain,
the hair in curlers,
the hands you
love to touch.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- A Hand-Mirror. by Walt Whitman
- A Saint Between Us by Satish Verma
- Ode 1957: An intellectual by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- Song of Myself by Sir Walter Raleigh
- Europe, the 72d and 73d years of These States. by Walt Whitman
- Address to Edinburgh by Robert Burns
- Oh Masters
- To Robert Louis Stevenson poem – Alfred Austin
- Владимир Британишский – Куда ты уйдешь
- Константин Бальмонт – Морозные узоры
- A Woman Unconscious by Ted Hughes
- It’s No Use Raising A Shout by W H Auden
- The Kiss by Siegfried Sassoon
- Ок Мельникова – All I want, all I need
- Владимир Высоцкий – Тоска немая гложет иногда
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).
