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From an old Italian saying... (Interpreted here in english)

All my life, I drank from my own glass
And I ate from my own plate,
Despite the many liars, I remain sincere,
Despite corruption and cruelty, I remain a poet.

Eldovis 7 July 13
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0

Here's a counterpoint from Dante on the pain of exile:

You shall leave everything you love most dearly:
this is the arrow that the bow of exile
shoots first. You are to know the bitter taste
of others’ bread, how salt it is, and know
how hard a path it is for one who goes
descending and ascending others’ stairs.

  • Paradise Canto 17:55-60
brentan Level 8 July 17, 2018
0

An old friend always reminds others of personal responsibility, this poem defines that.

azzow2 Level 9 July 16, 2018
0

Poetry is an act of peace. – Pablo Neruda

Lincoln55 Level 8 July 13, 2018