~ ~ ~ Poetry ~ ~ ~

Answer To A Child's Question

Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove
The Linnet and Thrush say, "I love and I love!"
In the winter they're silent - the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving - all come back together.
But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he -
"I love my Love, and my Love loves me!"

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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Ó, Pomona, senhora dos pinheirais,
Quanta dor não há de sentir,
Quantas lágrimas não há de chorar,
Ao, impotente, assistir
Sua cria a se delapidar;

Frutos, flores, auroras boreais;
Quanta beleza na terra não há?
Como se pode, agora, rir
Ou, então, deixar de chorar
Ao vê-la assim, sofrendo, sorrir?

Me