I read somewhere that April is Poetry Month. So, throughout the month I will post several of my favorite poems. Enjoy!
The last stanza of "Among School Children" by W.B. Yeats
Labour is blossoming or dancing where
The body is not bruised to pleasure soul.
Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music,
O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?
7 years ago