I leave the book, I leave the wine

I leave the book, I leave the wine,
I breathe freer by the pine:
In houses, I am low & mean,
Mountain waters wash me clean,
And by the seawaves I am strong,
I hear their medicinal song,
No balsam but the breeze I crave,
And no physician but the wave.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.