The Fool's Lament (Remove filter)
The Fool's Lament
I am somewhat given to melancholy, Lord,
Said the Fool,
And though I would give you the mirth that you crave,
All that I work is coloured by sadness,
Whatever I will.
My mother cried when I was born
And there was no star to dance
By way of salvation
And I was coloured by that,
Whatever I will.
And whatever I will my colour is black:
The colour of warmth, ...
Sunday 1st April 2018 10:14 am
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on An Excellent View
25 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on My tasty belief in the Ceylon hillside plantation leaf
28 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Human
37 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on July 2025 Collage Poem: Dancing on the Edge
41 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Greet Each New Day
44 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Breaking
52 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on ARRIVAL OF CONCRETE
1 hour ago
Red Brick Keshner on celestial school of verse
1 day ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on I Know Those Who Hate The War
1 day ago
Russell Jacklin on Death of Fanny Adams
1 day ago