#English
Still life, still life ... the hig… Hard and sharp on the bottles: the… Stands firmly solid in the glasses… Smooth yellow ice, through which t… The lamp’s bright pencil of down-s…
A petal drifted loose From a great magnolia bloom, Your face hung in the gloom, Floating, white and close. We seemed alone: but another
Noon with a depth of shadow beneat… Shakes in the heat, quivers to the… Half shaded, half sunlit, a great… Glistens purple and golden: the fl… Cool in their panniers of snow: si…
My close-walled soul has never kno… That innermost darkness, dazzling… Like the blind point, whence the v… In the core of the gazer’s chrysol… The mystic darkness that laps God…
We who are lovers sit by the fire, Cradled warm 'twixt thought and wi… Sit and drowse like sleeping dogs In the equipoise of all desire, Sit and listen to the still
Spring is past and over these many… Spring and summer. The leaves of… Yellowing afid all but dead on the… Nor is there any hope in me. I wa… Slowly homeward. Night is as empt…
Day after day, At spring’s return, I watch my flowers, how they burn Their lives away. The candle crocus
Once more the windless days are he… Quiet of autumn, when the year Halts and looks backward and draws… Before it plunges into death. Silver of mist and gossamers,
I have run where festival was loud With drum and brass among the crow… Of panic revellers, whose cries Affront the quiet of the skies; Whose dancing lights contract the…
Shepherd, to yon tall poplars tune… Let them pierce, keenly, subtly sh… The slow blue rumour of the hill; Let the grass cry with an anguish… And the great sky be mute.
I am not one of those who sip, Like a quotidian bock, Cheap idylls from a languid lip Prepared to yawn or mock. I wait the indubitable word,
Evenings in trains, When the little black twittering g… Along the brims of cuttings, Against the luminous sky, Interrupt with their hurrying rumo…
A million million spermatozoa All of them alive; Out of their cataclysm but one poo… Dare hope to survive. And among that billion minus one
Books and a coloured skein of thou… And magic words lay ripening in my… Till their much-whispered music tu… Whose subtlest power was all in my… These things were mine, and they w…
I had been sitting alone with book… Till doubt was a black disease, When I heard the cheerful shout o… In the bare, prophetic trees. Bare trees, prophetic of new birth…
