The Poet's Bread

by Charles Leo O'Donnell
Morn offers him her flaskèd light
That he may slake his thirst of soul,
And for his hungry heart will Night
Her wonder-cloth of stars outroll.

However fortune goes or comes
He has his daily certain bread,
Taking the heaven's starry crumbs,
And with a crust of sunset fed.
Translation: 
Language: 
English
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

Post review

No reviews yet.

Report violation