I have not walked to Bethlehem Nor seen the ancient pyramids, I still must read the Odyssey, Homer, not Kazantzakis.
I have listened well to the Baroque, The Romantic era moves me so, Atonality I could not bear Or the galloping prestissimo.
The sound of choirs in the night Is the only heaven I shall find, But the joy of earth that flowers here Has blessed these eyes. I am not blind
To evil and the bitter fruit That in our lives around us falls, But symphonies of love I hear And a sweet voice that sweetly calls.
Poems Undated (1727)
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