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Tuesday, 9 June 2009

LITTLE FLY



Little Fly

Thy summers play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush'd away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink and sing
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath;
And the want
of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful cat!

Felinità said...

Splendide creature i felini ....

Pop and Ice said...

A beautiful photo and an exquisite poem. I am really feeling quite relaxed after reflecting on the poem. Thank you!

Anya said...

Fantastic poem ^__^

Lovely shot :)

ELAINE ERIG said...

Anya, Franz was my first cat, so wonderful! Unfortunately died very early, we fought hard to save him, but it was impossible (he is the image of CATS... MEOW.

massimo said...

Marvellous il Franz!