Low-Tide
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
These wet rocks where the tide has been,
Barnacled white and weeded brown
And slimed beneath to a beautiful green,
These wet rocks where the tide went down
Barnacled white and weeded brown
And slimed beneath to a beautiful green,
These wet rocks where the tide went down
Will show again when the tide is high
Faint and perilous, far from shore,
No place to dream, but a place to die,—
The bottom of the sea once more.
There was a child that wandered through
A giant's empty house all day,—
House full of wonderful things and new,
But no fit place for a child to play.
Atmosfera fantastica! Minunat!
Atmosfera era intra-devar fantastica, atata liniste si atata frumusete in ...nimicul care se intindea in fata noastra. Mi-a fost foarte greu sa ma desprind si cred ca mi-am "uitat" o parte din suflet acolo sus.