I never may turn the loop of a road
Where sudden, ahead, the sea is Iying,
But my heart drags down with an ancient load-
My heart, that a second before was flying.

I never behold the quivering rain-
And sweeter the rain than a lover to me-
But my heart is wild in my breast with pain;
My heart, that was tapping contentedly.

There’s never a rose spreads new at my door
Nor a strange bird crosses the moon at night
But I know I have known its beauty before,
And a terrible sorrow along with the sight.

The look of a laurel tree birthed for May
Or a sycamore bared for a new November
Is as old and as sad as my furtherest day-
What is it, what is it, I almost remember?

Analysis, meaning and summary of Dorothy Parker's poem Temps Perdu

1 Comment

  1. Marcel says:

    Can’t comment without reading the poem but want to let the lunatic “copyright holder” know that I will never buy anything which they have connection with. This is a perfect example of what’s wrong with the copyright laws!! The woman has been dead for years and it should not be possible for anyone else to “own” the rights! I might look up Parker in the library but nothing else. More power to the Chinese pirates I say.

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