Sarn Rhiw (R S Thomas Poems)
So we know she must have said something to him--What language, life? Oh, what language? Thousands of years later I inhabit a house whose stone is ...
So we know she must have said something to him--What language, life? Oh, what language? Thousands of years later I inhabit a house whose stone is ...
For the first twenty years you are still growingBodily that is: as a poet, of course,You are not born yet. ...
Looking upon this tree with its quaint pretensionOf holding the earth, a leveret, in its claws,Or marking the texture of ...
The old man comes out on the hilland looks down to recall earlier daysin the valley. He sees the stream ...
My father is dead.I who am look at himwho is not, as once hewent looking for mein the woman who ...
Looking upon this tree with its quaint pretension Of holding the earth, a leveret, in its claws, Or marking the ...
My father is dead. I who am look at him who is not, as once he went looking for me ...
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