传硕公版书
怨得
怨得这相逢；
谁作的主？——风！
也就一半句话，
露水湿了枯芽。
黑暗——放一箭光；
飞蛾：他受了伤。
偶然，真是的。
惆怅？喔何必！
伦敦旅次九月
徐志摩诗歌全集 · 徐志摩 · Chapter 122 of 223
怨得
✦ You read 怨得
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