Bells of gray crystal
Break on each bough--
The swans' breath will mist all
The cold airs now.
Like tall pagodas
Two people go,
Trail their long codas
Of talk through the snow.
Lonely are these
And lonely and I ....
The clouds, gray Chinese geese
Sleek through the sky.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 787 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Dame Edith Sitwell
Poem: Bells Of Gray Crystal
Volume: Facades
Year: Published/Written in 1923
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