<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343697" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In A Time Of Dearth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Before me,<br>On either side of me,<br>I see sand.<br>If I turn the corner of my house,<br>I see sand,<br>Long, brown<br>Lines and levels of flat<br>Sand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If I could only see a caravan<br>Heave over the edge of it:<br>The camels wobbling and swaying,<br>Stepping like ostriches,<br>With rocking palanquins<br>Whose curtains conceal<br>Languors and faintnesses,<br>Muslins tossed aside,<br>And a disorder of cushions.<br>The swinging curtains would pique and solace me.<br>But I only see sand,<br>Long, brown sand -<br>Sand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If I could only see a herd of Arab horses<br>Galloping,<br>Their manes and tails pulled straight<br>By the speed of their going;<br>Their bodies sleek and round<br>Like bellying sails.<br>They would beat the sand with their fore feet,<br>And scatter it with their hind feet,<br>So that it whirled in a cloud of orange,<br>And the sun through it<br>Was clip-edged, without rays, and dun.<br>But I only see sand,<br>Long, brown, hot sand -<br>Sand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If I could only see a mirage,<br>Blue-white at the horizon,<br>With palm-trees about it;<br>Tall, windless palm-trees, grouped about a-glitter.<br>If I could strain toward it,<br>And think of the water creeping round my ankles,<br>Tickling under my knees,<br>Leeching up my sides,<br>Spreading over my back.<br>But I only feel the grinding beneath my feet.<br>And I only see sand,<br>Long, dry sand,<br>Scorching sand -<br>Sand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If a sand-storm would only come<br>And spit against my windows,<br>Snapping upon them, and ringing their vibrations;<br>Swirling over the roof;<br>Seeping under the door-jamb;<br>Suffocating me and making me struggle for air.<br>But I only see sand -<br>Sand lying dead in the sun.<br>Lines and lines of sand -<br>Sand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will paste newspapers over the windows to shut out the sand;<br>I will fit them into one another, and fasten the corners.<br>Then I will strike matches<br>And read of politics and murders and festivals<br>Three years old.<br>But I shall not see the sand any more,<br>And I can read<br>While my matches last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Amy+Lowell">Amy Lowell</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=343697" data-title="In A Time Of Dearth de Amy Lowell" data-description="Before me, On either side of me, I see sand. If I turn the corner of my house, I see sand, Long, brown Lines and levels of flat Sand. If I could only see a caravan Heave over the edge of it: The camels wobbling and swaying, Stepping like ostriche..."></div> </div> </div>

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