Spinosa.

A poem by Friedrich Schiller

A mighty oak here ruined lies,
Its top was wont to kiss the skies,
Why is it now o'erthrown?
The peasants needed, so they said,
Its wood wherewith to build a shed,
And so they've cut it down.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Spinosa.' by Friedrich Schiller

comments powered by Disqus