Swift with the dawn she rises, quick and cold,
Rattling the pebbles with her silver shoon,
Chasing a thousand fish of instant gold,
And racing into noon.
But in the night so tired at having tracked
Her great sea-lover to his sounding lair;
Down from the shoulders of her cataract,
She loosens all her hair.
The River
Leon Gellert
(1)
Poem topics: fish, hair, night, sea, silver, great, cold, gold, tired, swift, dawn, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The River poem by Leon Gellert
Best Poems of Leon Gellert