Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
One of the greatest poems of longing by a wonderful master of melancholy
My favourite poem. Some may find it maudlin and sentimental but I find it evocative of lost childhood. Happiness in simple things and realisation that life is transitory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Remember it from walk about