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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Blight</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hard seeds of hate I planted<br> That should by now be grown,—<br>Rough stalks, and from thick stamens<br> A poisonous pollen blown,<br>And odors rank, unbreathable,<br> From dark corollas thrown!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At dawn from my damp garden<br> I shook the chilly dew;<br>The thin boughs locked behind me<br> That sprang to let me through;<br>The blossoms slept,—I sought a place<br> Where nothing lovely grew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And there, when day was breaking,<br> I knelt and looked around:<br>The light was near, the silence<br> Was palpitant with sound;<br>I drew my hate from out my breast</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And thrust it in the ground.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, ye so fiercely tended,<br> Ye little seeds of hate!<br>I bent above your growing<br> Early and noon and late,<br>Yet are ye drooped and pitiful,—<br> I cannot rear ye straight!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sun seeks out my garden,<br> No nook is left in shade,<br>No mist nor mold nor mildew<br> Endures on any blade,<br>Sweet rain slants under every bough:<br> Ye falter, and ye fade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edna+St.+Vincent+Millay">Edna St. Vincent Millay</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=374556" data-title="Blight de Edna St. Vincent Millay" data-description="Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,— Rough stalks, and from thick stamens A poisonous pollen blown, And odors rank, unbreathable, From dark corollas thrown! At dawn from my damp garden I shook the chilly dew; The t..."></div> </div> </div>
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