What do I care, in the dreams and the languor of spring,
That my songs do not show me at all?
For they are a fragrance, and I am a flint and a fire,
I am an answer, they are only a call.

But what do I care, for love will be over so soon,
Let my heart have its say and my mind stand idly by,
For my mind is proud and strong enough to be silent,
It is my heart that makes my songs, not I.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Sara Teasdale's poem What Do I Care?

2 Comments

  1. Billy-Bob says:

    This is an awesome poem. It rocks my socks.

  2. Karla says:

    this is a good poem

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