William Wordsworth, A poem by Sidney Keyes

[angel_of_sad]

William Wordsworth

No room for mourning: he's gone out
Into the noisy glen, or stands between the stones
Of the gaunt ridge, or you'll hear his shout
Rolling among the screes, he being a boy again.
He'll never fail nor die
And if they laid his bones
In the wet vaults or iron sarcophagi
Of fame, he'd rise at the first summer rain
And stride across the hills to seek
His rest among the broken lands and clouds.
He was a stormy day, a granite peak
Spearing the sky; and look, about its base
Words flower like crocuses in the hanging woods,
Blank though the dalehead and the bony face.

Written by : Sidney Keyes (1922-1943) He died before he was twenty-one.

Words and meanings
Mourning حداد -glen وادى صغير منعزل - gaunt مضنى أو كئيب - ridge قمة تل او جبل - screes أحجار أو حصوات -vaultمدفن
sarcophagi توابيت حجرية -stride يتقدم بسرعة - graniteجرانيت أو صوان- peak قمة -flower تزهر - crocusesالزعفران