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Sara Teasdale

(8 August 1884 – 29 January 1933 / Missouri)

Pain


Waves are the sea's white daughters,
And raindrops the children of rain,
But why for my shimmering body
Have I a mother like Pain?

Night is the mother of stars,
And wind the mother of foam --
The world is brimming with beauty,
But I must stay at home.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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Read poems about / on: mother, children, rain, beauty, home, pain, wind, sea, world, night, daughter, child, star

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