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To Earthward

分类: 英语诗歌 
by Robert Frost

    Love at the lips was touch

    As sweet as I could bear;

    And once that seemed too much;

    I lived on air

    That crossed me from sweet things,

    The flow of——was it musk

    From hidden grapevine springs

    Downhill at dusk?

    I had the swirl and ache

    From sprays of honeysuckle

    That when they're gathered shake

    Dew on the knuckle.

    I craved strong sweets, but those

    Seemed strong when I was young;

    The petal of the rose

    It was that stung.

    Now no joy but lacks salt,

    That is not dashed with pain

    And weariness and fault;

    I crave the stain

    Of tears, the aftermark

    Of almost too much love,

    The sweet of bitter bark

    And burning clove.

    When stiff and sore and scarred

    I take away my hand

    From leaning on it hard

    In grass and sand,

    The hurt is not enough:

    I long for weight and strength

    To feel the earth as rough

    To all my length.

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