The end of the world - Poem by Miroslav Holub
The bird had come to the very end of its song
and the tree was dissolving under its claws.
And in the sky the clouds were twisting
and darkness flowed through all the cracks
into the sinking vessel of the landscape.
Only in the telegraph wires
a message still
C-.-o- -m- e. h...o- -m- e.
y-.- o- -u..- h...a.-v...-e.
Comments about The end of the world by Miroslav Holub
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You