SELL me a violin, mister, of old mysterious wood. Sell me a fiddle that has kissed dark nights on the forehead where men kiss sisters they love. Sell me dried wood that has ached with passion clutching the knees and arms of a storm. Sell me horsehair and rosin that has sucked at the breasts of the morning sun for milk. Sell me something crushed in the heartsblood of pain readier than ever for one more song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE FORCE OF LOVE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES DESPAIR AND FEAR by EMILY DICKINSON TO MY MERE ENGLISH CENSURER by BEN JONSON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 72. THE CHOICE (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 30. AL-HADIL by EDWIN ARNOLD |