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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=402963" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Unknown Country</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here, in this other world, they come and go<br>With easy dream-like movements to and fro.<br>They stare through lovely eyes, yet do not seek<br>An answering gaze, or that a man should speak.<br>Had I a load of gold, and should I come<br>Bribing their friendship, and to buy a home,<br>They would stare harder and would slightly frown:<br>I am a stranger from the distant town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, with what patience I have tried to win<br>The favour of the hostess of the Inn!<br>Have I not offered toast on frothing toast<br>Looking toward the melancholy host;<br>Praised the old wall-eyed mare to please the groom;<br>Laughed to the laughing maid and fetched her broom;<br>Stood in the background not to interfere<br>When the cool ancients frolicked at their beer;<br>Talked only in my turn, and made no claim<br>For recognition or by voice or name,<br>Content to listen, and to watch the blue<br>Or grey of eyes, or what good hands can do?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sun-freckled lads, who at the dusk of day<br>Stroll through the village with a scent of hay<br>Clinging about you from the windy hill,<br>Why do you keep your secret from me still?<br>You loiter at the corner of the street;<br>I in the distance silently entreat.<br>I know too well I'm city-soiled, but then<br>So are today ten million other men.<br>My heart is true: I've neither will nor charms<br>To lure away your maidens from your arms.<br>Trust me a little. Must I always stand<br>Lonely, a stranger from an unknown land?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is a riddle here. Though I'm more wise<br>Than you, I cannot read your simple eyes.<br>I find the meaning of their gentle look<br>More difficult than any learned book.<br>I pass: perhaps a moment you may chaff<br>My walk, and so dismiss me with a laugh.<br>I come: you all, most grave and most polite,<br>Stand silent first, then wish me calm Good-Night.<br>When I go back to town some one will say:<br>'I think that stranger must have gone away.'<br>And 'Surely!' some one else will then reply.<br>Meanwhile, within the dark of London, I<br>Shall, with my forehead resting on my hand,<br>Not cease remembering your distant land;<br>Endeavouring to reconstruct aright<br>How some treed hill has looked in evening light;<br>Or be imagining the blue of skies<br>Now as in heaven, now as in your eyes;<br>Or in my mind confusing looks or words<br>Of yours with dawnlight, or the song of birds:<br>Not able to resist, not even keep<br>Myself from hovering near you in my sleep:<br>You still as callous to my thought and me<br>As flowers to the purpose of the bee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Harold+Monro">Harold Monro</a><div class=q>
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<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=402963" data-title="Unknown Country de Harold Monro" data-description="Here, in this other world, they come and go
With easy dream-like movements to and fro.
They stare through lovely eyes, yet do not seek
An answering gaze, or that a man should speak.
Had I a load of gold, and should I come
Bribing their friendship,..."></div>
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