What long-dead face makes here the grass so green?
On what earth-buried bosom do we lean?
Ah! love, when we in turn are grass and flowers,
By what kind eyes to come shall we be seen?
About author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: January 20, 1866
- Died: September 15, 1947
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Ann, I love you. I hope my car starts. I hope the sink isn't plugged up. I'm glad I didn't fuck a groupie. I'm glad I'm not very good at getting into bed with strange females. I'm glad I'm an idiot. I'm glad I don't know anything. I'm glad I haven't been murdered. When I look at my hands and they are still on my wrists, I think to myself, I am lucky.
Charles Bukowski