<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=352702" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Eve</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">By water's edge, quiet willows stand,<br>And from the steep bank, high noon flings<br>White fleecy clouds into the pond<br>As if they were a fisher's seines.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The firmament sinks like a net,<br>A crowd of sunburnt bathers dive<br>With yells into the pond, and head<br>For this elusive netlike sky.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some women from the water rise<br>Under the scanty willows' lee,<br>And stepping on the sand, wring dry<br>Their bathing costumes hurriedly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The coils of fabric twist and slide<br>Like water-snakes, and nimbly roll,<br>As if the dripping garments hide<br>Beguiling serpents in their folds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">0 woman, neither looks nor shape<br>Will nonplus me or make me gloat.<br>You, all of you, are like a lump<br>In my excitement-stricken throat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You look as if hewn in the rough-<br>A stray verse line dashed off ad lib.<br>You make me think it is the truth-<br>That you were made out of my rib.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And instantly you broke away<br>From my embrace, and moved apart,<br>All fear, confusion, disarray-<br>And missing beats of a man's heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Boris+Pasternak">Boris Pasternak</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=352702" data-title="Eve de Boris Pasternak" data-description="By water's edge, quiet willows stand, And from the steep bank, high noon flings White fleecy clouds into the pond As if they were a fisher's seines. The firmament sinks like a net, A crowd of sunburnt bathers dive With yells into the pond, and he..."></div> </div> </div>

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