The Fields - Poem by Witter Bynner
Though wisdom underfoot
Dies in the bloody fields,
Slowly the endless root
Gathers again and yields.
In fields where hate has hurled
Its force, where folly rots,
Wisdom shall be unfurled
Small as forget-me-nots.
Comments about The Fields by Witter Bynner
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Read poems about / on: hate
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