I get up early in the mrning
I am wandering how today will spread out
Autumn is in beauty in the darkness
I regret that many leaves are fallen without bearing fruits
There are no friends who come to see me right now
when I got sick
Men are known by the company they keep
Who is my friend in every hardship.
This time of year that's where the trouble comes in.
Ar dawn I compose a poem
Suddendly I feel alone
When I am 59 years old, (in the autumn of 2010) ,
a great change of thought takes placve in me.
My emotional life is broadened by
my love for OK, a married woman who hared my intellectual interests and eventually
becam my wife.
My wife is only my friend.
I descries her as the inspirer,
and in part the author, of all that is best in my writings.
Solitude, in the sense of being often alone,
is essential to any depth of meditation or of chracter:
and solitude in the presence of natural beauty and grandeur,
is the cradle of thoughts and aspirations which are not only good for
the individual, but which society could ill do without.
I recite the following passages.
Why I recite the passages which continue words in a sentence.,
John Stuart Mill once said as follow:
sentence 1: Nor is there much satisfaction in contemplating the world with nothing left to the spontaneous activity of nature; with every rood of land brought into cultivation, which is capable of growing food for human beings; every flowery waste or natural pasture ploughed up,
all quadrumpeds or birds which are not domesticated for man's
use extreminated as his rivals for food, every hedgegrow or superfluous tree rooted out,
and scarcely a place left where a wild shrub or flower could grow without being eradicated as a weed in the name of improved agriculture.
Sentence 2: If the earth must lose that great portions of its pleasantness which it owes to things
that the unlimited increase of wealth and population would extirpate from it,
for the mere purpose of enabling it to support a larger,
but not a better or happier population,
I sincerely hope, for the sake of posterity, that they will be content to be stationary, long before necessity compels them to it.
Heaven' has different Signs—to me—
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place—
And when again, at Dawn,
Kyungdae Min's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (At Dawn by Kyungdae Min )
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