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
- Epistle To My Brother George poem – John Keats poems
- Hark! Hark! The Lark by William Shakespeare
- Slow To Come, Quick Agone by William Barnes
- The Road To Ruin by Siegfried Sassoon
- The Fable of Dryope – Ovid’s Metamorphoses Book 9, [v. 324-393] poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- Альфред де Мюссе – Да, женщины, тут нет ошибки
- Нина Воронель – Природа сама сочиняет стихи
- Incense by Vachel Lindsay
- Boy Running In The Rain
- Olive Branch by Satish Verma
- I See Your Beauty by Ronald G. Auguste
- София Парнок – И голос окликнул тебя среди ночи
- Ольга Высотская – Звёздочки
- A Singer by William Allingham
- Наум Коржавин – Песня лейб-казачьей сотни
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).
