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Hyperion: A Fragment Book I DEEP in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star, Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest... -- John Keats (1795-1821) |
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* World Trade Center, 1972-2001 * Translation in the Digital Age Text to Images Project * M's old blog, Insert Tech Here |