Monday, September 11, 2006

2 More Epigrams

from The Greek Anthology

I lie here waiting, while this small hole mends.
I lie here waiting. Waiting never ends.

And Then There Fell

No she so fair as his,
alarming in the spring.
So fair, such joy in this,
none needs no other thing,
not he. He had her all.
Then summer changed to fall.
How could it have been so?
And then there fell the snow.

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