Love's aftermath! I think the time is now
That we must gather in, alone, apart
The saddest crop of all the crops that grow,
Love's aftermath.
Ah, sweet,--sweet yesterday, the tears that start
Can not put back the dial; this is, I trow,
Our harvesting! Thy kisses chill my heart,
Our lips are cold; averted eyes avow
The twilight of poor love: we can but part,
Dumbly and sadly, reaping as we sow,
Love's aftermath.
Such a brilliant write by Ernest Christopher Dowson👍👍👍
The twilight of love- - - what a perfect phrase to describe the slow darkening of the once-upon-a-time joy felt whenever in each other's company.
The poem sends a wonderful message of life. It's a a philosophical treat. Thanks. Can not put back the dial; this is, I trow, Dumbly and sadly, reaping as we sow,
As you sow so you reap and in love it is so applied......... pain, pleasures, joy and anguish which are the aftermath of love come like shadow after the substance...........outstanding piece..........thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love is painful pleasure! After pleasure, there will be pain or after pain, there will be pleasure in life! Congratulations!