On a flat road runs the well-train’d runner;
He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs;
He is thinly clothed he leans forward as he runs,
With lightly closed fists, and arms partially rais’d.
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad for life, mad for talking, mad for poetry.
On a flat road runs the well-train’d runner;
He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs;
He is thinly clothed he leans forward as he runs,
With lightly closed fists, and arms partially rais’d.