Rome
Oh for the rising moon Over the roofs of Rome, And swallows in the dusk Circling a darkened dome!
Oh for the measured dawns That pass with folded wings-- How can I let them go With unremembered things?
Sara Teasdale
Oh for the rising moon Over the roofs of Rome, And swallows in the dusk Circling a darkened dome!
Oh for the measured dawns That pass with folded wings-- How can I let them go With unremembered things?
The speaker of “Rome” longs to be back in the city, calling up three fleeting images: the moon rising over the rooftops, swallows circling a darkened dome at dusk, and the calm, measured arrival of dawn.
Lees de hele samenvatting