<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=336698" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sunday Morning - VI</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is there no change of death in paradise? <br>Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs <br>Hang always heavy in that perfect sky, <br>Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth, <br>With rivers like our own that seek for seas <br>They never find, the same receding shores <br>That never touch with inarticulate pang? <br>Why set the pear upon those river banks <br>Or spice the shores with odors of the plum? <br>Alas, that they should wear our colors there, <br>The silken weavings of our afternoons, <br>And pick the strings of our insipid lutes! <br>Death is the mother of beauty, mystical, <br>Within whose burning bosom we devise <br>Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wallace+Stevens">Wallace Stevens</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=336698" data-title="Sunday Morning - VI de Wallace Stevens" data-description="Is there no change of death in paradise? /Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs /Hang always heavy in that perfect sky, /Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth, /With rivers like our own that seek for seas /They never find, the same re..."></div> </div> </div>

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