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.
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:
Beautiful cat!
Splendide creature i felini ....
A beautiful photo and an exquisite poem. I am really feeling quite relaxed after reflecting on the poem. Thank you!
Fantastic poem ^__^
Lovely shot :)
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.
Marvellous il Franz!
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