Remembering his schooldays With their rotes and yammering expectations, Han Shan laughs contemptuously: "How fine it would be," he declares, "To have my old masters here Walking with me this fine fall morning Under tossing pines, Without the dinning and drumming, And with only the cold mountain wind In their open mouths. How I would examine them In my hand-me-down clothes." http://www.wlu.edu/~shenano | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET LOVE BEING ALL ONE by ROBERT FROST ON CARPACCIO'S PICTURE: THE DREAM OF ST. URSALA; SONNET by AMY LOWELL IN 'DESIGNING A CLOAK TO CLOAK HIS DESIGNS' YOU WRESTED FROM OBLIVION by MARIANNE MOORE HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 5 by EZRA POUND BEFORE A STATUE OF ACHILLES by GEORGE SANTAYANA |