<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348553" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Chaplin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sun, a heavy spider, spins in the thirsty sky.<br>The wind hides under cactus leaves, in doorway corners. Only the wry</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Small shadow accompanies Hamlet-Petrouchka's march - the slight<br>Wry sniggering shadow in front of the morning, turning at noon, behind towards night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The plumed cavalcade has passed to tomorrow, is lost again;<br>But the wisecrack-mask, the quick-flick-fanfare of the cane remain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Diminuendo of footsteps even is done:<br>Only remain, Don Quixote, hat, cane, smile and sun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Goliaths fall to our sling, but craftier fates than these<br>Lie ambushed - malice of open manholes, strings in the dark and falling trees.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">God kicks our backsides, scatters peel on the smoothest stair;<br>And towering centaurs steal the tulip lips, the aureoled hair,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While we, craned from the gallery, throw our cardboard flowers<br>And our feet jerk to tunes not played for ours.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Submitted by Stephen Fryer</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Arthur+Seymour+John+Tessimond">Arthur Seymour John Tessimond</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=348553" data-title="Chaplin de Arthur Seymour John Tessimond" data-description="The sun, a heavy spider, spins in the thirsty sky. The wind hides under cactus leaves, in doorway corners. Only the wry Small shadow accompanies Hamlet-Petrouchka's march - the slight Wry sniggering shadow in front of the morning, turning at noon..."></div> </div> </div>

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