The Cry
A cry to Angels,
From across the cazzum,
A cry of crying,
Answered in multitudes,
Light streams from high,
To warm the sand,
As water breaks,
Against the torment,
To reveal a view,
Only for the select many.
The Cry
A cry to Angels,
From across the cazzum,
A cry of crying,
Answered in multitudes,
Light streams from high,
To warm the sand,
As water breaks,
Against the torment,
To reveal a view,
Only for the select many.
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
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