Back to igor's profile



Uploaded .

Beauty and artistic taste is clear to everyone and eternal, although it does not save the world.

A Late Walk
Robert Frost

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words.

A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.

thetworegs's avatar
thetworegs said

Robert has a way with his words, as Igor does with the keys on the piano. Wonderful!

Bethan Mathis's avatar
Bethan Mathis said

Oh, Igor beautiful playing on a still and peaceful Sunday morning.

markus4lonetone's avatar
markus4lonetone said

Very beautiful, and the poem is beautiful as well and they fit together niecely.

Sister Savage's avatar
Sister Savage said

Utterly stunning..! Beauty and art won't save the world but they'll make it a better place while we destroy it.

Recent Listeners

thetworegs's avatar
witzelsucht's avatar
Andrew Russe's avatar
Nick P's avatar
Bethan Mathis's avatar
markus4lonetone's avatar

Favorited By

thetworegs's avatar
Andrew Russe's avatar
Bethan Mathis's avatar
markus4lonetone's avatar
Sister Savage's avatar