poetry


I was walking around like this, alone as a cloud that floats high above hills and hills, when suddenly I saw a mass.


A multitude of golden daffodils was fluttering and dancing in the breeze by the lake and under the trees.



They extended in an unbroken line down the edge of a bay, as endless as the stars that shine and twinkle on the Milky Way:

Ten thousand people looked my way, their heads moving in a wild dance.



The waves next to them were dancing, but they were more joyous than the luminous waves:

But among the such jocund company, a poet ought no longer to be gay:

I kept staring, but I didn't think much.

What riches the show had delivered to me:



Sometimes, when the weight was just on my mind