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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>September Midnights</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer,<br>Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,<br>Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects,<br>  Ceaseless, insistent.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The grasshopper's horn, and far-off, high in the maples,<br>The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence<br>Under a moon waning and worn, borken,<br>  Tired with summer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let me remember you, voices of little insects,<br>Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters,<br>Let me remember, soon will the winter be on us,<br>  Snow-hushed and heavy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Over my soul murmur your mute benediction,<br>While I gaze, O fields that rest after harvest,<br>As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to,<br>  Lest they forget them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sara+Teasdale">Sara Teasdale</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=513626" data-title="September Midnights de Sara Teasdale" data-description="Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects,
  Ceaseless, insistent.

The grasshopper's horn, and far-off, high in the maples,
The wheel of a..."></div>
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