Passageways Poem by Antonio Machado

Passageways

Rating: 3.0


Who set, between those rocks like cinder,
to show the honey of dream,
that golden broom,
those blue rosemaries?
Who painted the purple mountains
and the saffron, sunset sky?
The hermitage, the beehives,
the cleft of the river
the endless rolling water deep in rocks,
the pale-green of new fields,
all of it, even the white and pink
under the almond trees!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Susan Tenofsky 17 January 2019

I like how he sees nature, so clear and beautiful.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success