Translation from English

Monday, April 7, 2014

Poem by Louise Bogan- PoemHunter.com

Louise Bogan 
Share


Last Hill in a Vista

Come, let us tell the weeds in ditches
How we are poor, who once had riches,
And lie out in the sparse and sodden
Pastures that the cows have trodden,
The while an autumn night seals down
The comforts of the wooden town.

Come, let us counsel some cold stranger
How we sought safety, but loved danger.
So, with stiff walls about us, we
Chose this more fragile boundary:
Hills, where light poplars, the firm oak,
Loosen into a little smoke.

Louise Bogan

More poems from Louise Bogan


from PoemHunter.com

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please leave a comment-- or suggestions, particularly of topics and places you'd like to see covered