Thursday Apr 08, 2004

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The Fly

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.

Am I not
A fly like thee?
Or not thou
A man like me?

For I dance,
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live
Or if I die.

~W.Blake.
_bossanova_:
My favorite is the Sick Rose. It's the only poem I've memorized.love

You can't go wrong with the master.

kisskisskiss
su:
yep.

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