Under osiers with ivy ingrown <br />We are trying to hide from bad weather. <br />I am clasping your arms in my own, <br />In one cloak we are huddled together. <br /> <br />I was wrong. Not with ivy-leaves bound, <br />But with hops overgrown is the willow. <br />Well then, let us spread out on the ground <br />This our cloak as a sheet and a pillow.<br /><br />Boris Pasternak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/intoxication-3/
