Those villages stricken with the m… in all of whose ocher streets one… those volcanoes like ashen roses,… of poverty, around whose puckered… selling yellow sulphur stone

though our longest sun sets at rig… makes but winter arches, it cannot be long before we lie do… have our light in ashes. . . Browne, Urn Burial

Night, the black summer, simplifie… into a village; she assumes the im… musk of the negro, grows secret as… her alleys odorous with shucked oy… coals of gold oranges, braziers of…

Then all the nations of birds lift… the huge net of the shadows of thi… in multitudinous dialects, twitter… stitching and crossing it. They li… the shadows of long pines down tra…

As for that other thing which comes when the eyelid is gla… and the wax gleam from the unwrinkled forehead asks no more questions

A wind is ruffling the tawny pelt Of Africa, Kikuyu, quick as flies… Batten upon the bloodstreams of th… Corpses are scattered through a pa… Only the worm, colonel of carrion,…

The fist clenched round my heart loosens a little, and I gasp brightness; but it tightens again. When have I ever not loved the pain of love? But this has mov…

Koening knew now there was no one… Entering its brown mouth choking w… and curtained with midges, Koenig… past the abandoned ferry and the f… coated with coal dust. Staying abo…

When sunset, a brass gong, vibrate through Couva, is then I see my soul, swiftly uns… like a white cattle bird growing m… over the ocean of the evening cane…

After that hot gospeller has level… I wrote the tale by tallow of a ci… Under a candle’s eye, that smoked… Wanted to tell, in more than wax,… All day I walked abroad among the…

BOOK SIX Chapter XLIV In hill-towns, from San Fernando… the same sunrise stirred the feath… down the archipelago’s highways. T…

Old Eddie’s face, wrinkled with r… Looked like a Mississippi man’s.… Derisive and avuncular at once, Swivelling, fixed me. They’d see… Too many wakes, too many cathouse…

The time will come when, with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirr… and each will smile at the other’s…

There were still shards of an anci… in those shires of the island wher… their pools of shadow from an olde… surviving from when the landscape… ‘Herefords at Sunset in the valle…

This coral’s hape ecohes the hand It hollowed. Its Immediate absence is heavy. As pu… As your breast in my cupped palm. Sea-cold, its nipple rasps like sa…