Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
Easy Mode - Auto check enabled
- let me not forget for a moment,
when I spread my bed low in the dust,
and in my wakeful hours.
When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting,
- let me not forget a moment,
let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me
When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound
and my hands grow full with the daily profits,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
and the laughter there is loud,
- let me not forget for a moment,
If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
let me ever feel that I have gained nothing
and in my wakeful hours.
As my days pass in the crowded market of this world
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
- let me not forget for a moment,
π Congratulations! π
You've successfully reconstructed the poem! Your understanding of poetry and attention to detail is impressive.
If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight - let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.
As my days pass in the crowded market of this world and my hands grow full with the daily profits, let me ever feel that I have gained nothing - let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.
When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting, when I spread my bed low in the dust, let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me - let me not forget a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.
When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound and the laughter there is loud, let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house - let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.