Sarah Teasdale

Here you will find thePoemDust诗人的莎拉·蒂斯代尔

Dust

When I went to look at what had long been hidden, A jewel laid long ago in a secret place, I trembled, for I thought to see its dark deep fire -- But only a pinch of dust blew up in my face. I almost gave my life long ago for a thing That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes -- It is strange how often a heart must be broken Before the years can make it wise.