They act like drunks all day and pass the years without a break but once they're buried beneath the weeds the morning sun is dim their flesh and bones disappear their souls soon fade away even iron-crushing jaws can't chant sutras then | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHUT OUT THAT MOON by THOMAS HARDY THE LADY POVERTY by ALICE MEYNELL IL PLEUT DOUCEMENT SUR LA VILLE by PAUL VERLAINE THE THUD OF THE CLODS by JULIA E. BRUMFIELD THE DREADED TASK by MARGARET E. BRUNER NEW DUET: BOWLES AND CAMPBELL by GEORGE GORDON BYRON DIVINA COMMEDIA: PURGATORIO. THE TERRESTIAL PARADISE by DANTE ALIGHIERI |