[“Though Your Sorrows Not]

“though your sorrows not

any tongue may name,

three i’ll give you sweet

joys for each of them

But it must be your”

whispers that flower

murmurs eager this

“i will give you five

hopes for any fear,

but it Must be your”

perfectly alive

blossom of a bliss

“seven heavens for

just one dying,i’ll

give you” silently

cries the(whom we call

rose a)mystery

“but it must be Your”



ee cummings (USA, 1894-1962)

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