نهاية مفضلة

A better resurrection

By Sylvia plath

have no wit, no words, no tears;

         My heart within me like a stone

Is numb’d too much for hopes or fears;

         Look right, look left, I dwell alone;

I lift mine eyes, but dimm’d with grief

         No everlasting hills I see;

My life is in the falling leaf:

         O Jesus, quicken me.