Sunday Poem Series
The Wind by James Stephens The wind stood up, and gave a shout; He whistled on his fingers, and Kicked the withered leaves about, And thumped the branches with his hand, And said he’d...
The Wind by James Stephens The wind stood up, and gave a shout; He whistled on his fingers, and Kicked the withered leaves about, And thumped the branches with his hand, And said he’d...
Without lapsing into Steynian hysteria, I think there are real concerns about the growing population of alienated, socially immobile Muslim immigrants in Europe. In that vein, Michelle Goldberg’s review of Reflections on the Revolution...