The Drowsy Garden Poem by Boris Pasternak

The Drowsy Garden

Rating: 4.3


The drowsy garden scatters insects
Bronze as the ash from braziers blown.
Level with me and with my candle,
Hang flowering worlds, their leaves full-grown.

As into some unheard-of dogma
I move across into this night,
Where a worn poplar age has grizzled
Screens the moon's strip of fallow light,

Where the pond lies, an open secret,
Where apple bloom is surf and sigh,
And where the garden, a lake dwelling,
Holds out in front of it the sky.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Margaret O Driscoll 04 February 2016

A descriptive piece with great imagery

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