I <br /> <br />Like the sweet apple which reddens upon the topmost bough, <br />A-top on the topmost twig--which the pluckers forgot, somehow-- <br />Forget it not, nay, but got it not, for none could get it till now. <br /> <br />II <br /> <br />Like the wild hyacinth flower which on the hills is found, <br />Which the passing feet of the shepherds for ever tear and wound, <br />Until the purple blossom is trodden in the ground.<br /><br />Sappho<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-girl/
