English | Spanish | French | German | Portuguese| Italian

grandmother poem

sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
estes sejam
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
completamente dos rasgos
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
sol e vento e batida do mar
eu detestei-o
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
eu penso d esplêndido justo

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

  • YETI: A film about Tibet, releasing online 08/08/08 (Phayul)
  • A Colonial Oasis in Upper Manhattan (The New York Sun)
  • Even the Most Romantic of Poets Can Sometimes Be Awfully Hard of Heart (New York Times)
  • Pop 10: Another reason to hate Hitler; Click & Clack get animated ... - Cleveland Plain Dealer
  • The telltale heart - Business World
  • PHO organizes Punjabi Mela - IndiaPost.com
  • Fitting farewell to Palestinian poet - BBC News
  • Amazing story of a childhood ripped apart by abusive parents - Glasgow Daily Record
  • The Love Song of R. Buckminster Fuller (New York Times)
  • Lady Natasha Spender remembers Edith Sitwell - Daily Telegraph
  • Fairs and festivals - Everett Herald
  • TV’s ’Laugh-in’ comic Dick Martin dies in Calif - Boston Herald
  • As Courant Reporter, She Covered 1944 Circus Fire - Hartford Courant
  • ‘No matter where I went, he was there behind me’ - Irish Independent
  • Ready to wear: The art of Natick's Virginia Fitzgerald - Daily News Tribune
 

Mortgage Refinancing

California Mortgages

Free Simple Mortgage Calculator

Poetry | Home | Contact Us | Educational Resources | Vote For This Poem | Visitor Favorites

Summer School Help Beginner Math Physics Primer Chemistry Primer Intro Psychology English Primer
Intro Grammar Beginner Writing American History American Civil War Intro Biology Composition Help


Check out El-Grande Web Directory today!


www.endlesspoetry.com ©Copyright 2004 - 2007 Michael VanDeMar All Rights Reserved