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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508524" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Vineyard</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To me at night the stars are vocal.<br>They say: 'Your planet's oh so local!<br>A speck of dust in heaven's ceiling;<br>Your faith divine a foolish feeling.<br>What odds if you are chaos hurled,<br>Yours is a silly little world.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For their derision, haply true,<br>I hate the stars, as wouldn't you?<br>But whether earth be great or little,<br>I do not care a fishwife's spittle;<br>I do not fret its where or why,--<br>Today's a day and I am I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Serene, afar from woe and worry<br>I tend my vines and do not hurry.<br>I buss the lass and tip the bottle,<br>Fill up the glass and rinse my throttle.<br>Tomorrow though the earth should perish,<br>The lust of life today I cherish.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah no, the stars I will not curse:<br>Though things are bad they might be worse.<br>So when vast constellations shine<br>I drink to them in ruby wine;<br>For they themselves,--although it odd is,<br>Somehow give me a sense that God is.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Because we trust and realise<br>His love he steers us in the skies.<br>For faith however foolish can<br>Be mighty helpful to a man:<br>And as I tend my vines so He<br>With tenderness looks after me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</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=508524" data-title="My Vineyard de Robert William Service" data-description="To me at night the stars are vocal.
They say: 'Your planet's oh so local!
A speck of dust in heaven's ceiling;
Your faith divine a foolish feeling.
What odds if you are chaos hurled,
Yours is a silly little world.'

For their derision, haply true,..."></div>
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