Stones

John FreemanContemplatif

Small yellow stones That, lifted, through my idle fingers fall Leaving a score-- And these I toss between the parted lips Of the lapping sea, And the sea tosses again with millions more-- Yellow and white stones; Then drawing back her snaky long waves all, Leaves the stones Yellow and white upon the sandy shore.... As they were bones Yellow and white left on the silent shore Of an unfoaming far unvisioned Sea.

John Freeman

Apprendre par cœur : touchez un blanc

That, lifted, through my idle fall
And these I toss the parted lips
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