Goshen by Edgar Frank

How can you live in Goshen said a friend from afar,

This wretched country town where folks talk little things all year and plant their cabbage by the moon?

Said I, I do not live in Goshen.

I eat here, sleep here, work here.

I live in Greece where Plato taught and Phidias carved, and Epictetus wrote.

I dwell in Italy where Cicero penned immortal lines and Dante sang undying songs.

Think not of my life as small because you see a puny place; I have my books, I have my dreams.

A thousand souls have left for me enchantment that transcends both time and place;

and so I live in paradise, not here.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s