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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509080" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Cycle</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The clapping blackness of the wings of pointed cormorants,<br>the great indolent planes<br>Of autumn pelicans nine or a dozen strung shorelong,<br>But chiefly the gulls, the cloud-caligraphers of windy spirals<br>before a storm,<br>Cruise north and south over the sea-rocks and over<br>That bluish enormous opal; very lately these alone, these and the<br>clouds<br>And westering lights of heaven, crossed it; but then<br>A hull with standing canvas crept about Point Lobos . . . now<br>all day long the steamers<br>Smudge the opal's rim; often a seaplane troubles<br>The sea-wind with its throbbing heart. These will increase, the<br>others diminish; and later<br>These will diminish; our Pacific has pastured<br>The Mediterranean torch and passed it west across the fountains<br>of the morning;<br>And the following desolation that feeds on Crete<br>Feed here; the clapping blackness of the wings of pointed cormorants,<br>the great sails<br>Of autumn pelicans, the gray sea-going gulls,<br>Alone will streak the enormous opal, the earth have peace like the<br>broad water, our blood's<br>Unrest have doubled to Asia and be peopling<br>Europe again, or dropping colonies at the morning star: what<br>moody traveler<br>Wanders back here, watches the sea-fowl circle<br>The old sea-granite and cemented granite with one regard, and<br>greets my ghost,<br>One temper with the granite, bulking about here?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robinson+Jeffers">Robinson Jeffers</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=509080" data-title="The Cycle de Robinson Jeffers" data-description="The clapping blackness of the wings of pointed cormorants,
the great indolent planes
Of autumn pelicans nine or a dozen strung shorelong,
But chiefly the gulls, the cloud-caligraphers of windy spirals
before a storm,
Cruise north and south over th..."></div>
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