#English Modern
When the bare feet of the baby bea… The little white feet nod like whi… They poise and run like ripples la… And the sight of their white play… Is like a little robin’s song, win…
Do you remember How night after night swept level… Overhead, at home, and had not one… Nor one narrow gate for the moon t… Forth to her field of November.
Butterfly, the wind blows sea—ward… strong beyond the garden—wall! Butterfly, why do you settle on my shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe, Lifting your veined wings, lifting…
If you are a man, and believe in t… then say to yourself: we will ceas… about property and money and mecha… and open our consciousness to the… that we are now cut off from.
Search for nothing any more, nothi… except truth. Be very still, and try and get at… And the first question to ask your… How great a liar am I?
Now I am all One bowl of kisses, Such as the tall Slim votaresses Of Egypt filled
Making his advances He does not look at her, nor sniff… No, not even sniff at her, his nos… Only he senses the vulnerable fold… That work beneath her while she sp…
I look at the swaling sunset And wish I could go also Through the red doors beyond the b… I wish that I could go Through the red doors where I cou…
The moon is broken in twain, and h… Before me lies on the still, pale… The other half of the broken coin… Is buried away in the dark, where… They buried her half in the grave…
The earth again like a ship steams… The edge of the blue, and the sun… Slowly into another day; slowly th… Vessel of darkness takes the risin… I, on the deck, am startled by thi…
THE cuckoo and the coo-dove’s cea… Calling, Of a meaningless monotony is palli… All my morning’s pleasure in the s… May-blossom and blue bird’s-eye fl…
We’ve made a great mess of love Since we made an ideal of it. The moment I swear to love a woma… That moment I begin to hate her. The moment I even say to a woman:…
Out of the darkness, fretted somet… Jets of sparks in fountains of blu… To sight, revealing a secret, numb… Sometimes the darkness trapped wit… Runs into speed like a dream, the…
My world is a painted fresco, wher… Of old, ineffectual lives linger b… An endless tapestry the past has w… The halls of my life, compelling m… The surface of dreams is broken,
I have fetched the tears up out of… Scooped them up with small, iron w… Dripping over the runnels. The harsh, cold wind of my words d… I watched the tears on the guilty…