Jan Kubelik Poem by Carl Sandburg
Jan Kubelik
Rating: ★2.4
Your bow swept over a string, and a long low note quivered to the air.
(A mother of Bohemia sobs over a new child perfect learning to suck milk.)
Your bow ran fast over all the high strings fluttering and wild.
(All the girls in Bohemia are laughing on a Sunday afternoon in the hills with their lovers.)
Friday, January 3, 2003
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4/19/2024 2:31:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
