agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
||
![]() |
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | |||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
![]() |
|
|||||
![]() |
agonia ![]()
■ Music ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2007-03-19 | |
“Alas. My whole life was in vain”
Rodin overawed cried out When he first saw Apollo at Olympia. And frantically he rummaged The bottom of his pouch. Where was the fault he wondered ? Was it a tool he had neglected ? A tool that needed the affection of his touch ? Breathless he dashed to the workshop of Phidias And everywhere he sought – deep in his thoughts – For any little thing that might have helped Distraught he dug his fingers in the soil. Might he, by chance, discover A tool of Hephaestus, He never knew ? Might he find a godly tool Olympia hides ? A tool that stirs, And elates the soul, And sets it free.
|
||||||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|||
![]() | |||||||||
![]() |
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | ![]() | |||||||
![]() |
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy