My soul is like the oar that momently
Dies in a desperate stress beneath the wave,
Then glitters out again and sweeps the sea:
Each second I'm new-born from some new grave.
Struggle
Text and source
- Rights
- Public domain
- Source
- View original source
Poem A Day
One poem today. Another tomorrow.
Save this poem to your personal anthology and build a reading streak with a new classic each day.