<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=478128" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Evening: Ponte Al Mare, Pisa</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>The sun is set; the swallows are asleep;<br>The bats are flitting fast in the gray air;<br>The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep,<br>And evening’s breath, wandering here and there<br>Over the quivering surface of the stream, <br>Wakes not one ripple from its summer dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II.<br>There is no dew on the dry grass to-night,<br>Nor damp within the shadow of the trees;<br>The wind is intermitting, dry, and light;<br>And in the inconstant motion of the breeze <br>The dust and straws are driven up and down,<br>And whirled about the pavement of the town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III.<br>Within the surface of the fleeting river<br>The wrinkled image of the city lay,<br>Immovably unquiet, and forever <br>It trembles, but it never fades away;<br>Go to the...<br>You, being changed, will find it then as now.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV.<br>The chasm in which the sun has sunk is shut<br>By darkest barriers of cinereous cloud,<br>Like mountain over mountain huddled--but<br>Growing and moving upwards in a crowd,<br>And over it a space of watery blue,<br>Which the keen evening star is shining through.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Percy+Bysshe+Shelley">Percy Bysshe Shelley</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=478128" data-title="Evening: Ponte Al Mare, Pisa de Percy Bysshe Shelley" data-description="I. The sun is set; the swallows are asleep; The bats are flitting fast in the gray air; The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep, And evening’s breath, wandering here and there Over the quivering surface of the stream, Wakes not one ripple..."></div> </div> </div>

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