I mourn the lips of yesterday,
Lips whose kisses are yet unborn,
And the old desires outworn,
Under sorrows hid away.
Always rain on the far sky-line;
Always snow on the beaches gleams,
While by the bolted gate of dreams
Crouching wolves in the grasses whine;
Into my listless soul I gaze:
With clouded eyes I search the past,
At all the long-spilt blood aghast
Of lambs that died in wintry ways.
Only the moon her mournful fires
Enkindles, and a desolate light
Falls where the autumn frosts are white
Over my famishing desires.
(Maurice Polydore-Marie-Bernard Maeterlinck)
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Based on Topics: Dreams Poems, Past Poems, Kiss Poems, Autumn PoemsBased on Keywords: famishing, enkindles