Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos


 We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.
And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.
That was long ago.
Today neither of them is alive, Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.
O my love, where are they, where are they going The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.

by Czeslaw Milosz
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - EncounterEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top Czeslaw Milosz Poems