Lewis Carroll, Poeta fit, non nascitur

    POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR   "How shall I be a poet?    How shall I write in rhyme? You told me once 'the very wish    Partook of the sublime.' Then tell me how! Don't put me off    With your 'another time'!" The old man smiled to see him,    To hear his sudden sally; He liked the lad to...

Publié le 30/05/2011 dans litteratured... par Littérature de partout | Lire la suite...