Who never ate his bread in sorrow,
Who never spent the midnight hours
Weeping and waiting for the morrow –
He knows you not, ye heavenly powers.
GOETHE
* * *
I now see that sorrow, being the supreme emotion of which man is capable, is at once the type and test of all great art.
If the world has indeed […] been built of sorrow, it has been built by the hands of Love, because in no other way could the soul of man, for whom the world was made, reach the full stature of its perfection. Pleasure for the beautiful body, but pain for the beautiful soul.
OSCAR WILDE, De Profundis
kilroykishore 
Pleasure for the beautiful body,but pain for the beautiful soul,very rightly said. Infact It’s the body which does all misdeeds and soul has to bear the result. Nice poem Kishore -Pankaj
LikeLike
@ PankajThanks for the comment, your first comment 🙂
LikeLike