#EnglishWriters
The authentic! Shadows of it sweep past in dreams, one could sa… evoking the almost-silent ripping apart of giant sheets of cellophane. No.
Bricks of the wall, so much older than the house - taken I think from a farm pulled d… when the street was built - narrow bricks of another century.
Among the blight-killed eucalypts,… trees and bushes rusted by Christm… the yards and hillsides exhausted… certain airy white blossoms punctu… reappeared, and dense clusters of…
O Eros, silently smiling one, hea… Let the shadow of thy wings brush me. Let thy presence enfold me, as if darkness
The Rav of Northern White Russia declined… in his youth, to learn the language of birds, because the extraneous did not interest hi…
The cat is eating the roses: that’s the way he is. Don’t stop him, don’t stop the world going round, that’s the way things are.
The clouds as I see them, rising urgently, roseate in the mounting of somber power surging in evening haste over roofs and hermetic
The fire in leaf and grass so green it seems each summer the last summer. The wind blowing, the leaves shivering in the sun,
High, hollowed in green above the rocks of reason lies the crater lake whose ice the dreamer breaks to find a summer season.
There’s in my mind a woman of innocence, unadorned but fair-featured and smelling of apples or grass. She wears a utopian smock or shift, her hair
Turn from that road’s beguiling ea… to your hunger’s turret. Enter, cl… chill with disuse, where the croak… regards from shimmering eyes your… and the drip, drip, of darkness gl…
The red eyes of rabbits aren’t sad. No one passes the sad golden village in a barge any more. The sunset will leave it alone. If the
It’s when we face for a moment the worst our kind can do, and shu… the taint in our own selves, that… cracks the mind’s shell and enters… not to a flower, not to a dolphin,
High in the jacaranda shines the g… of a small bird’s curlicue of song… for her to see or hear. I’ve learned not to say, these last years,
“Adam, where are you?”   ; God’s hands palpate darkness, the void that is Adam’s inattention, his confused attention to everythi…