SELL me a violin, mister, of old mysterious wood. Sell me a fiddle that has kissed dark nights on the forehead where men kiss sisters they love. Sell me dried wood that has ached with passion clutching the knees and arms of a storm. Sell me horsehair and rosin that has sucked at the breasts of the morning sun for milk. Sell me something crushed in the heartsblood of pain readier than ever for one more song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A MOTH SEEN IN WINTER by ROBERT FROST ESTRANGEMENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TEARS AND KISSES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPRING WIND IN LONDON by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |