Cold Are The Crabs Poem by Edward Lear
Cold Are The Crabs
Cold are the crabs that crawl on yonder hills,
Colder the cucumbers that grow beneath,
And colder still the brazen chops that wreathe
The tedious gloom of philosophic pills!
For when the tardy film of nectar fills
The simple bowls of demons and of men,
There lurks the feeble mouse, the homely hen,
And there the porcupine with all her quills.
Yet much remains - to weave a solemn strain
That lingering sadly - slowly dies away,
Daily departing with departing day
A pea-green gamut on a distant plain
When wily walrusses in congresses meet -
Such such is life -
Coloured cucumbers grow beneath the cold are the crabs that crawl on yonder hills. This poem has rich imagery. This is excellently written.
Yet much remains - to weave a solemn strain That lingering sadly - slowly dies away Beautiful poem shared. Thanks great poet.
Made second visit. Really it is a beautiful poem. It is nice to be selected this poem as the classic poem of the poem of the day.
This promising beginning of the poem kindles to read further to see something wise and great only to be left unfinished! nyAway thank you for sharing this Poet's poem here!
An intriguing, innovative sonnet by the master of nonsense rhyme: Edward Lear (note the idiosyncratic, fragmentary concluding line...) . This particular poem, nothwithstanding its ostensible ' silliness', seems to suggest an overall sense of sorrow, or even despair.
Yet much remains - to weave a solemn strain That lingering sadly - slowly dies away, ...../// superb expression on the life and its decaying slowly///thanks for sharing and selecting as POD
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/5/2024 4:20:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This is, of course, wonderful nonsense...with which Mr Lear is a master. Please, great critics, do not take it literally. Just go with the flow! RJF