<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381239" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Barn</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">They should never have built a barn there, at all -<br>Drip, drip, drip! - under that elm tree,<br>Though when it was young. Now it is old<br>But good, not like the barn and me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To-morrow they cut it down. They will leave<br>The barn, as I shall be left, maybe.<br>What holds it up? 'Twould not pay to pull down.<br>Well, this place has no other antiquity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No abbey or castle looks so old<br>As this that Job Knight built in '54,<br>Built to keep corn for rats and men.<br>Now there's fowls in the roof, pigs on the floor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What thatch survives is dung for the grass,<br>The best grass on the farm. A pity the roof<br>Will not bear a mower to mow it. But<br>Only fowls have foothold enough.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Starlings used to sit there with bubbling throats<br>Making a spiky beard as they chattered<br>And whistled and kissed, with heads in air,<br>Till they thought of something else that mattered.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now they cannot find a place,<br>Among all those holes, for a nest any more.<br>It's the turn of lesser things, I suppose.<br>Once I fancied 'twas starlings they built it for.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edward+Thomas">Edward Thomas</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=381239" data-title="The Barn de Edward Thomas" data-description="They should never have built a barn there, at all - Drip, drip, drip! - under that elm tree, Though when it was young. Now it is old But good, not like the barn and me. To-morrow they cut it down. They will leave The barn, as I shall be left, may..."></div> </div> </div>

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