Where is the distant voice
That speaks like my soul?

Buried beneath daylight's clamor
Gold and the seasons

Beneath groaning streets
And the ferment of cities 

In my grave of care
And blond laughter

In what bare tomb must I lie 
To summon the voice 
That speaks like my soul?

Added: Oct 28 2005 | Viewed: 1013 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Andree Chedid
Poem: The Voice

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