The Sick Rose (by William Blake 1757-1827)
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
–
So the question is: What is “the invisible worm that flies in the night”?
February 15th, 2008 at 10:55 am
It is AUTUMN and its wind. yes or no?
May 2nd, 2008 at 4:18 pm
I’m listening to the sound of a flute
Everyday at Subway Station.
It inspires in me both joy and sorrow at the same time
Today he is not there
I became weary and disheartened.