Beauty is a disgust to him
whose days are troubled
with definite wanderings
among harbors and markets.
Throughout his days,
blotting calendars; counting,
yet overfed. Hates recess
that impedes the banking.
Beauty is a disgust to him
who scorns idle moments
from inexpensive pleasures,
such as sunset and lilies.
How sad to be insensitive to the beauty of sunsets and lilies. You look through the windowpanes of your soul with much wisdom, Melanie. And what you see has much creative worth. Warm regards, Sandra
this, i love. it is completely pertinent to the attitude of guys today. keep on SusxGLx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty, —that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.' - John Keats- Ode to a Grecian Urn. I like your poem. It speaks volumes. Contemplating the inherent beauty of all living things is a mystery that cannot be overlooked. Do not trust a man who has no awareness of this truth. As William Blake said, 'To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour.'