O Being Of Sleep Poem by james watkin
O Being Of Sleep
Hast thou no shape o being of sleep?
There's no bosom, but dissolves!
Warm of bearing soft must be.
Like your gracious resolves.
Cavernous-eyed, depths plunging
But full of an appeasement
That's not supposed! Of what lulls,
Down from moon, equivalent.
Of what fogged through, and half-sad
Sedatingly sure presses.
Limp, evening lurching, each leapt zest
Comes to know; acquiesces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/18/2024 7:10:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
