In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter — bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.”
*1895. Stephen Crane.
See also: the house on the hill
Archivado bajo: poem, poetry | Etiquetado: desert, in the desert, poem, poetry, Stephen Crane
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