I take the theater seriously in that I loathe it, I'm bored by it.
quote by Fiona Shaw
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Related quotes
Loath and Fear
If I would rely on phrenology,
Or science, or mythology,
I'd burn down this damned city
And disembark in a conclusion
Of the ugly veracity:
I loathe everything!
I fear everything!
I loathe that I am writing about loathing
And I fear that I might lose every one
Though I barely have anyone,
So I loathe even more on this fear.
I loathe that I write about myself all the time, and
I fear that I might not be writing at all
I loathe that I would narrate a story
In the surreal slopes of enigma, and
I fear, afterwards, that no one will pry
To understand or even console.
I loathe that my mouth cannot mouth
What my hands opted to write, and
I fear that my hands aren't equipped
To write what I cannot mouth.
I loathe even more that I build walls
For people to beat down and divulge
The forlorn boy inside, and yet
I fear to be found.
And I loathe to the point of breaking
That no one ever cared to pry
And that makes me shudder in fear, and
I fear this kind of loathing
And loathe this kind of fear.
I loathe that I cannot gain readers, and
I fear that I may never have
I loathe that readers appreciates the writing
But not the congealed brook
Between the lines of it, and
I fear that they might not even
Appreciate the spilled blood
In every line of it.
I loathe, I fear,
That apart from writing
I am never good at anything
Except maybe from fearing and loathing.
I loathe that I blame the past
For making me loathe a lot, and
For making me fear a lot
For making me loathe sports, and
For making me fear trying
And all the brusquely recreations
And the shame of failing.
I loathe, I fear,
[...] Read more
poem by Norman Santos
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Underjoyed
The doctor released me
a case of underjoyed
No lack of nutrition
something I can't avoid
No mental condition
maybe I'm paranoid
or maybe
maybe
I'm just bored
I'm just damn bored
I'm just damn bored
I'm just damn bored
An old friend convinced me
that he was underjoyed
He never caused friction
his ego he destroyed
He made a decision
He jumped into the void
or maybe
maybe
he's just bored
he's just damn bored
he's just damn bored
he's just damn bored
Drown your fears in alcohol
everybody spills and falls
Choke on every dream you ever had
Drown yourself in alcohol
everybody slips and falls
Choke on every dream you ever had
Keep yourself in 6 degrees
no one ever comforts me
why should they bother
When I'm alone and I'm so damn bored
I am so bored
I am so bored
I am so
NO NO NO NOW
BORED
I am so bored
[...] Read more
song performed by Jack Off Jill from Clear Hearts Grey Flowers
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When a girl is bored
When a girl is bored no voice is beautiful to her ears
When a girl is bored there is nothing to attract her eyes
When a girl is bored day is night and night is night
When a girl is bored dream and wish is really out of mind
When a girl is bored a star in the sky doesn’t glow
When a girl is bored the city is quiet more than ever
When a girl is bored shadows are searching for light
When a girl is bored the colors are meaningless to her heart
When a girl is bored she cries but expects no tears
When a girl is bored she doesn’t want to hear a word
When a girl is bored the sky isn’t blue anymore
When a girl is bored the world is small for her steps
When a girl is bored no one understands what is in her heart
When a girl is bored though everywhere is dark she never loses her hope
poem by Reihaneh Jalalian
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Bored
Hear me spit on you, wither i
Remold into gold and bury I from - sun
Reborn left to sigh, recure maybe ill
Be born and simplify - the way I lie - before
I get bored, I get bored, I get bored Im bored
Repent by you and trust to figure out
I burn that gift to you - doll and let it shine before
I get bored, I get bored, I get bored, I wish for a real one
Fit and confide, before me or i
I will come clean, it gets worse - its more
Get bored, I get bored, I get bored, a wish for a real one
Get bored, get bored, get bored, I wish for a real one
song performed by Deftones
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I'm Bored
I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the bored,
I'm a lengthy monologue
I'm livin' like a dog
I'm bored
I bore myself to sleep at night
I bore myself in broad daylight coz
I'm bored
Just another slimey bore
I'm free to bore my well-bought friends
And spend my cash until the end coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the board
I'm sick
I'm sick of all my kicks
I'm sick of all the stiffs
I'm sick of all the dips
I'm bored
I bore myself to sleep at night
I bore myself in broad daylight coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
Just another dirty bore
All right doll-face
Come on and bore me
I'm sick
I'm sick of all my kicks
I'm sick of all the stiffs
I'm sick of all the dips
I'm sick
I'm sick when I go to sleep at night
I'm still sick in the broad daylight coz
I'm bored
I'm bored
I'm the chairman of the. . .
BORED
song performed by Iggy Pop
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Notes On An Unadorned Night
after Rene Char
Let's agree that the night is a blank canvas, a station
break, a bridge of a song.
Let's agree further that activities at night—movies,
campfires, reading by a lamp—are all
basically an homage to the day.
I have come to regard these two statements as
contradictory. Let me explain.
First, set aside that one could see a movie, torch a fire,
and read with the sun blazing over us.
The in-between aspect of night need not spark a flurry of
activity, is all I'm saying.
You could do nothing at night! Just lay and sleep!
A Cézanne sketch I looked at last night bears
mentioning.
A big Gallic face, reclining upwards, looks up at three
boxcars on train tracks.
The man's eyes are wide open and unfulfilled.
The two disemboweled deer I saw the night before also
bear mentioning.
The torsos of both deer were connected to faces, both
looking up.
I assumed they were struck by trains near the house
where I was sleeping.
Anyway, it occurred to me that as I looked into these
two dead deer's eyes that so much has fallen at
me, rather than simply by me.
I want to be among people. I do.
But I just want the easy parts skipped, for bodies to rub
up against each other, to always feel as new flesh
touches new flesh.
Those deer weren't an emblem of anything. I'm not like that.
I don't need dead animals to mirror my own interior world.
[...] Read more
poem by Daniel Nester
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In My Mind
Album : Silencer (2001)
In my mind, in my mind a world of enchantment
Being sung through my mind
In my mind, visual enhancement
And I find myself in a red painted barn,
A million stars they pick me up and spin me
CHORUS
And now I am floating in a land of confusion
Or is it reality or just an illusion
And nothing makes sense, no start and no end
When you get more is when you get bored
In my mind, in my mind
Turning the handle and it's starting to stain
In my mind burns like a candle
And the wax tells a fairy tale
My heads for sale
I'm swimming through the hail
REPEAT CHORUS
In my mind, in my mind, in my mind
In my mind, (why can't you find yourself another place to rest...) in my mind, in my mind
In my mind, in my mind, in my mind
In my mind I see a red painted barn,
A million stars they pick me up and spin me
And now I am floating in a land of confusion
Or is it reality or just an illusion
And nothing makes sense, no start and no end
Cos when you get more is when you get bored
When you get more is when you get something
(Why can't you find yourself another place to rest...)
Cos when you get more is when you get bored
When you get more is when you get bored
When you get more is when you get bored
When you get more is when you get something
(Why can't you find yourself another place to rest...)
When you get more is when you get bored
When you get more is when you get bored
When you get more is when you get bored
When you get more is when you get something
song performed by Zed
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Theatre Of Dreams
Oh can I lie here, can I whisper; can I tell
you anything that you want to hear,
Is it thoughts, is it feelings, is it what you
need, can I make you feel good,
It's just something that I thought that
you'd like, in a world that's dying,
Oh I can see you smiling. Oh, can I do this
for you?
In the pale and lonely light you feel so
exciting ah,
I fail the words, I need to speak to tell you
how,
You can love who you love, you can be who
you want, in the theater of dreams,
Oh, you can love who you love, you can be
who you want, in the theater of dreams. In
the theater of dreams.
Oh can I touch you, can I hold you, I can
do anything, that you want me to,
Does it hurt, is it OK is it what you need to
make you feel good,
I got something that I think that you'd like,
in a world that's changing,
Oh I can feel you smiling, Oh can I do this
for you?
In a pale and lonely life, you seem so
exciting ah,
I fail the words, I need to speak to tell you
how.
You can love who you love, you can be who
you want, in the theater of dreams.
Oh, you can love who you love, you can be
who you want, in the theater of dreams.
This is where you open up your mind, yeah.
This is where you lose, lose your chains of
time.
In the theater of dreams.
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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Get Up
Here's to the morning
Think that I'm bored and crazy
Yes I have been to get up when I give in
I need my second wind and I just cant take it anymore
I just cant take it when your lying on the floor
Get up [x4]
Cause I'm bored
Get up [x4]
Get up off the floor
He gets the usual 1,2,3
Ooo ladidadida why'd you hit me
Get up
Cause I'm bored (ya)
Come entertain ya
So stupid its contagious
Mess that I've been
I get up when you get in
It makes more sense to win
I just cant fake it anymore
I just cant it and I heard it all before
Get up [x4]
Cause I'm bored
Get up [x4]
Get up off the floor
He gets the usual 1,2,3
Ooo ladidadida why'd you hit me
Get up
Cause I'm bored
Ohh dont be so dramatic
I know you almost had it
Wohhh
I tried to show you but you wont go down to her
(Get up, get up, get up, now)
Get up off the floor
Get up [x4]
Cause I'm bored
Get up [x4]
Get up off the floor
He gets the usual 1,2,3
Ooo ladidadida why'd you hit me
Get up [x4]
Cause I'm bored (ya)
song performed by Unwritten Law
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Fraternity
I'll never be fraternity
Another disease fraternity
Never believe fraternity
Just armies bored in life
I'll never be fraternity
I'll never need that brand of me
Fading the pace behind your eyes
Free to be straight for shape and size
Waiting awake and watch you rise
Go on keep feeding
Swearing by the
Swearing father
Swearing father
I'll never be fraternity
Another disease fraternity
Never believe fraternity
Just armies bored in life
I don't believe fraternities
See the disease fraternities
Wait of the hate behind your eyes
Free to be straight for shape and size
Waiting awake and watch your rise
Go on keep feeding
Swearing by them
Swearing father
Swearing father
I'll never be fraternity
Another disease fraternity
Never believe fraternity
Just armies bored in life
Hand me down
I'll never be fraternity
Another disease fraternity
Never believe fraternity
Just armies bored in life
Bored in life
Bored in life
song performed by Foo Fighters
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Legal Matter
I told you why I changed my mind
I told you why I changed my mind
I got bored by playing with time
I got bored by playing with time
I know you thought you had me nailed
I know you thought you had me nailed
But Ive freed my head from your garden rails
But Ive freed my head from your garden rails
Now its a legal matter, baby
Now its a legal matter, baby
You got me on the run
You got me on the run
Its a legal matter, baby
Its a legal matter, baby
A legal matter from now on
A legal matter from now on
My minds lost in a household fog
My minds lost in a household fog
Wedding gowns and catalogs
Wedding gowns and catalogs
Kitchen furnishings and houses
Kitchen furnishings and houses
Maternity clothes and babys trousers
Maternity clothes and babys trousers
Now its a legal matter, baby
Now its a legal matter, baby
Marryins no fun
Marryins no fun
Its a legal matter, baby
Its a legal matter, baby
A legal matter from now on
A legal matter from now on
I told you why I changed my mind
I told you why I changed my mind
I got bored by playing with time
I got bored by playing with time
I know you thought you had me nailed
I know you thought you had me nailed
Well, Ive freed my head from your garden rails
Well, Ive freed my head from your garden rails
Now its a legal matter, baby
Now its a legal matter, baby
You got me on the run
You got me on the run
Its a legal matter, baby
Its a legal matter, baby
A legal matter from now on
A legal matter from now on
You aint the first and you aint the last
You aint the first and you aint the last
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
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Sing Your Life
Sing your life
Any fool can think of words that rhyme
Many others do
Why dont you ?
Do you want to ?
Oh...
Sing your life
Walk right up to the microphone
And name
All the things you love
All the things that you loathe
Oh, sing your life
The things that you love
And the things you loathe
Oh, sing your life
Oh, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
Others sang your life
But now is a chance to shine
And have the pleasure of
Saying what you mean
Have the pleasure of
Meaning what you sing
Oh, make no mistake my friend
All of this will end
So sing it now (sing your life)
All the things you love (sing your life)
All the things you loathe
Oh, sing your life
The things that you love
And the things you loathe (sing your life)
Oh, sing oh...
Oh, sing oh...
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
Dont leave it all unsaid
Somewhere in the wasteland of your head, oh
Head, oh, head, oh, head, oh
And make no mistake, my friend
Your pointless life will end
But before you go
Can you look at the truth ?
You have a lovely singing voice
A lovely singing voice
And all of those
Who sing on-key
They stole the notion
From you and me
So, sing your life (sing your life)
[...] Read more
song performed by Morrissey
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Ballade
Bodies of comrade soldiers gleaming white
Within the mill-pool where you float and dive
And lounge around part-clothed or naked quite;
Beautiful shining forms of men alive,
O living lutes stringed with the senses five
For Love's sweet fingers; seeing Fate afar,
My very soul with Death for you must strive;
Because of you I loathe the name of War.
But O you piteous corpses yellow-black,
Rotting unburied in the sunbeam's light,
With teeth laid bare by yellow Hps curled back
Most hideously; whose tortured souls took
flight
Leaving your limbs, all mangled by the fight,
In attitudes of horror fouler far
Than dreams which haunt a devil's brain at
night;
Because of you I loathe the name of War.
Mothers and maids who loved you, and the wives
Bereft of your sweet presences; yea, all
Who knew you beautiful; and those small lives
Made of that knowledge; O, and you who call
For life (but vainly now) from that dark hall
Where wait the Unborn, and the loves which are
In future generations to befall;
Because of you I loathe the name of War,
l'envoi
Prince Jesu, hanging stark upon a tree
Crucified as the malefactors are
That man and man henceforth should brothers be;
Because of you I loathe the name of War.
poem by Frederick William Harvey
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Allegany Camp
amazing grace circus camp
amazing grace day camp
amazing grace hallelujah jeremy camp
amazing grace jeremy camp
amazing love jeremy camp
amazing place chalet pigeon forge
amazing race church camp
amazing race games for camps
amazing race girl scout camp
amazon camp dutch lodge oven
amazon camp in sweetwater missouri
amazon cast iron dutch lodge camp
amazon dutch oven camp
amazon lodge dutch oven camp
ambassador camp at lake waccamaw nc
ambassador camp inc
ambassador chalet
ambassador chalet at doral
ambassador chalet wgc
amber bowers
amber camp lazlo
amber pow camp
amberg germany dp camp
ambition camp hockey pro
ambler baseball camp
ambleside scotland school camp
ambon pow camp
ambor island pow camp
ambor pow camp
ambulance bower
amc camp dodge
amc camp movie summer
amc camp summer theater
amc little lyford camps
amc movie camp
amc movie camps
amc north west camp bear mountain
amc pinkham notch camp
amc summer camp for s
amc summer camp for s 2007
amc summer camp movies
amc summer movie camp
amc summer movie camp 2007
amc summer movie camp 2008
amc summer movie camp arlington
amc summer movie camp ontario california
amc theater camp hill
amc theatres summer camp
amcmovie camps
amelia earhart in japanese war camp
[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The Art Of Life
If anyone believes,
The one standing alone...
Taking the heat under spotlight,
Runs the show...
Hasn't met the director or the producer,
The manager, assistant manager.
The script writer, agent, publicist...
And a host of others behind the scenes.
If anyone believes,
The one standing alone...
Taking the heat under spotlight,
Runs the show...
Doesn't know theater.
Or who calls the shots,
To enable any light to shine
And be spotted anywhere.
Theater is staged.
No matter whose name is on the marquee,
To sell the tickets.
Theater is staged.
And the best acts are trained to fill the seats.
If one knew theater,
One would know the art of life.
And the importance of having not only a good director...
But one with the bucks,
Who can keep the production afloat long enough to seduce...
Is the key to selling an audience sold on what they see,
Until the curtain drops to signal the end of the performance.
Taken from its natural habitat to be staged,
The art of life...
Is only theater to delude and to captivate believers.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Great Stealth-burger Caper
A head cold had settled in with a vengeance.
After a couple of days at home I felt stir crazy.
Was it time to go somewhere, maybe a movie?
A quick glance at Arts & Entertainment section
and we made our choice of movies playing at our
favorite theater.
We jumped in the car and headed to the cinema.
“Haven’t eaten all day lets get a burger” I said.
“We don’t have enough time to stop to eat, lets
get something at the theater” Laureen replied.
“Nope, too expensive and the food is crappy anyway.
Let’s get some burgers to go and sneak them into the theater”
“What? ” You know they don’t let people take in food”
“Yeah, so they don’t need to know, right? ”
We wheeled into “Cruisers” a 50’s throwback diner.
You know the kind with old pictures of Elvis and Marilyn,
hanging on the walls and black & white checkerboard floors.
Cruisers make great burgers cheap (volume...Over a zillion sold) .
Thin patties, shredded lettuce, onions, tomatoes, pickles
and fresh sesame buns. Burgers better than the guys
with the “Golden Arches” or “flame broiled” belly busters.
It was 30 minutes before show time, but we were in luck.
Things were going well because we arrived 15 minutes before noon.
The movie gods were with us…
Just as we placed our order, people started lining up behind us.
“Two regular burgers with the works and mustard dressing please”
“Want fries with your burgers”
“Nope” I said hurriedly.
Laureen placed her order,
“One regular burger with everything except onions and an order of fries.”
“Do you want curly, regular, tatter tots or steak fries? ”
“Uh, I’ll take the steak fries please”
“Anything to drink? ”
“No thanks, just a cup for water (she wasn’t about to let me drink from her water bottle) .
We looked at each other as we sat down holding
our plastic tent with a black number 3 on it.
“Uh, how are we going to smuggle in that much food”, laureen asked.
“In your purse” I answered with a clueless grin on my face.
“Are you kidding, it’s already full and besides my water bottle is in it”
“I’ll put the water bottle in my back pocket”
[...] Read more
poem by Ray Lucero
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Its Easy To Get Bored
If Im half informed
Sympathize because its easy to get bored
I dont have time to waste
Im busy cultivating useless good taste
You need to know how to lie
The savage civil servants beady eyes
I can call him names
And maims
Then well only see eye to eye
And every breath expelled is wasted
And somebody manage the same lie
Ill spread some more good news
Invented facts that you know you
Can use
Sell them door to door with
Religious fervor that no one can ignore
Its so easy to get bored
Its so easy to get bored
Its so easy to get bored
Its so easy to get bored
song performed by Helmet
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Shepherd
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In Pursuit of the Poetic Soul of Ryan Adams
In Pursuit of the Poetic Soul of Ryan Adams
By Uriah Lee Hamilton
Last day of summer, football Saturday afternoon. A Warm breeze was pushing me toward Ann Arbor like a happy autumn leaf in pursuit of the beautiful poetic soul of Ryan Adams. Lovely charming mood all the way playing Easy Tiger and Demolition and feeling like the universe was kind and smiling.
Exit off 94 West onto State Street and all excited to make my way to Liberty Street and the heart of the College town I love. Kids were milling around everywhere in their gold and blue, gleeful and happy that Michigan is now playing 500 football after a discouraging start. Parking spaces across the street from Michigan Theater in the parking structure are all taken, I have to drive to the roof and still wait for a football fan to leave.
Me and my friend Cassandra start walking around and dig everything and everyone we see. Ann Arbor brings out your gentle Jack Kerouac nature, the part of you that wants to praise everything for it’s sad but beautiful, integral purpose to this existence.
We enter an Eastern clothing and folk art store that is positively charming and enlightening. I can’t remember the name of the store. Perhaps, it is called the Enchanted Sarong. It almost felt like George Harrison was there with us, beautiful carved statues of Buddha and Krishna and Ganesha were everywhere. The sales lady was friendly and helpful and said sweetly, “we’re Om friendly” as we asked about carved symbols for the breath-word Om. The serene incense Nag Champa drifted through the room but it was now time to leave and make our way to the Ryan Adams concert at Michigan Theater.
I purchased my tickets the very minute they went on sale and prayed I had front row despite my tickets saying double A. No Such luck, but I was still happy to be in row 27. As I was waiting for the show to begin, I saw my concert friend Jeremy and got his attention. He looked as happy and as excited as myself and said he had spent a fortune at some cool record store. Jeremy then handed me a beautiful soundboard copy of Ryan Adams at the Gem Theater in downtown Detroit June 20th 2007. Man, how I’ve been longing for that show! I then gave Jeremy a copy of Ryan’s punk rock band the Finger.
Now the lights go out and the music begins. Ryan Opens with Goodnight Rose and closes with Goodnight Hollywood Boulevard. Everything in-between is just magical. The first auspicious sign was that Ryan came out playing guitar! ! In June, he only sang, he didn’t play any instruments, some injury sidelined him. The June Show as a result was more subtle, almost like MTV Unplugged. Subtle but amazing. Last night was more rocking and adventurous with reworked extended arrangements, ala the Grateful Dead. In particular was a long and lovely version of Off Broadway from Easy Tiger. At the completion of Off Broadway, I shouted, “That was gorgeous! ” Of course, I may have added an expletive, all in the interest of ecstatic joy for music.
Ryan told a story during the show about running into a girl on her way to the concert that didn’t recognize him because he dresses like a plumber. My friend after the show said she thought she saw Ryan Adams on the street near the theater. I asked, “Really? ” She said, “I saw someone that looked like a plumber.” I can say, I didn’t see Ryan on the streets anywhere in Ann Arbor yesterday, but I have been known to miss a plumber or two in my day.
The first two songs in the encore made the whole show for me. Ryan came out by himself with an acoustic guitar and sang Call Me On Your Way Back Home. Toward the end of the song, Ryan played harmonica and I screamed like a schoolgirl, pretty much the way I do whenever Bobby Dylan plays harmonica! And if that wasn’t enough to make the end of summer completely magical, Ryan then sat down at the piano and sang Sylvia Plath: Oh my God, the point of tears! I’ve waited six years to hear him sing that song live from the Album Gold. As I told my friend, that was the song that sealed the deal making Ryan Adams my modern hero! If you want to get my attention and loyalty, sing about one of the tragic poets I love.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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The Giaour
No breath of air to break the wave
That rolls below the Athenian's grave,
That tomb which, gleaming o'er the cliff
First greets the homeward-veering skiff
High o'er the land he saved in vain;
When shall such Hero live again?
Fair clime! where every season smiles
Benignant o'er those blesséd isles,
Which, seen from far Colonna's height,
Make glad the heart that hails the sight,
And lend to lonliness delight.
There mildly dimpling, Ocean's cheek
Reflects the tints of many a peak
Caught by the laughing tides that lave
These Edens of the Eastern wave:
And if at times a transient breeze
Break the blue crystal of the seas,
Or sweep one blossom from the trees,
How welcome is each gentle air
That waves and wafts the odours there!
For there the Rose, o'er crag or vale,
Sultana of the Nightingale,
The maid for whom his melody,
His thousand songs are heard on high,
Blooms blushing to her lover's tale:
His queen, the garden queen, his Rose,
Unbent by winds, unchilled by snows,
Far from winters of the west,
By every breeze and season blest,
Returns the sweets by Nature given
In soft incense back to Heaven;
And gratefu yields that smiling sky
Her fairest hue and fragrant sigh.
And many a summer flower is there,
And many a shade that Love might share,
And many a grotto, meant by rest,
That holds the pirate for a guest;
Whose bark in sheltering cove below
Lurks for the pasiing peaceful prow,
Till the gay mariner's guitar
Is heard, and seen the Evening Star;
Then stealing with the muffled oar,
Far shaded by the rocky shore,
Rush the night-prowlers on the prey,
And turns to groan his roudelay.
Strande—that where Nature loved to trace,
As if for Gods, a dwelling place,
[...] Read more
poem by Byron (1813)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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