<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=477949" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Weltschmertz</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You ask why I am sad to-day,<br>I have no cares, no griefs, you say?<br>Ah, yes, 't is true, I have no grief--<br>But--is there not the falling leaf?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bare tree there is mourning left<br>With all of autumn's gray bereft;<br>It is not what has happened me,<br>Think of the bare, dismantled tree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The birds go South along the sky,<br>I hear their lingering, long good-bye.<br>Who goes reluctant from my breast?<br>And yet--the lone and wind-swept nest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The mourning, pale-flowered hearse goes by,<br>Why does a tear come to my eye?<br>Is it the March rain blowing wild?<br>I have no dead, I know no child.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am no widow by the bier<br>Of him I held supremely dear.<br>I have not seen the choicest one<br>Sink down as sinks the westering sun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Faith unto faith have I beheld,<br>For me, few solemn notes have swelled;<br>Love bekoned me out to the dawn,<br>And happily I followed on.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet my heart goes out to them<br>Whose sorrow is their diadem;<br>The falling leaf, the crying bird,<br>The voice to be, all lost, unheard--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not mine, not mine, and yet too much<br>The thrilling power of human touch,<br>While all the world looks on and scorns<br>I wear another's crown of thorns.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Count me a priest who understands<br>The glorious pain of nail-pierced hands;<br>Count me a comrade of the thief<br>Hot driven into late belief.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, mother's tear, oh, father's sigh,<br>Oh, mourning sweetheart's last good-bye,<br>I yet have known no mourning save<br>Beside some brother's brother's grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Paul+Laurence+Dunbar">Paul Laurence Dunbar</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=477949" data-title="Weltschmertz de Paul Laurence Dunbar" data-description="You ask why I am sad to-day, I have no cares, no griefs, you say? Ah, yes, 't is true, I have no grief-- But--is there not the falling leaf? The bare tree there is mourning left With all of autumn's gray bereft; It is not what has happened me, Th..."></div> </div> </div>

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