Reality being too thorny for my great personality.
--I found myself nevertheless at my lady's,
an enormous gray-blue bird soaring toward the moldings
of the ceiling and trailing my wings
through the shadows of the evening.
At the foot of the canopy supporting her adored gems
and her physical masterpieces, I was a great bear
with violet gums, fur hoary with sorrow,
eyes on the silver and crystal of the consoles.
Everything became shadow and ardent aquarium.
In the morning,-- bellicose dawn of June,--
a donkey, I rushed into the fields,
braying and brandishing my grievance,
until the Sabine women of the suburbs
came and threw themselves on my neck.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Bottom by Arthur Rimbaud )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Angel, Ronald Chapman
- Failure, Michael McParland
- Low / high, gajanan mishra
- Everyone's Villian, Michael McParland
- Lion, Ronald Chapman
- Everyone's Fool, Michael McParland
- Words Of The Jungle, Naveed Akram
- British Raj Slaughter, Richard Thripp
- Alpenglow, Robert Charles Howard
- My Friend, Ronald Chapman