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Poem by Ina Donna Coolbrith


A Hope


IT befell me on a day Ч
Long ago; ah, long ago!
When my life was in its May,
In the May - month of the year.
All the orchards were like snow
With pink - flushes there and here;
And a bird sang, building near,
And a bird sang far away,
Where the early twilight lay.

Long ago! ah, long ago!
Youth's sweet May passed quite away
May that never more is May!
Yet I hear the nightingale
Singing far adown the vale
Where the early twilight lies,
Singing sad, and sweet, and strong
And I wonder if the song
May be heard in Paradise!



Ina Donna Coolbrith


Ina Donna Coolbrith's other poems:
  1. The Mariposa Lily
  2. In Ended Days, a Child, I Trod Thy Sands
  3. Unbound
  4. The Day of Our Lord
  5. Two


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