What time is it? Midnight and very dark. Are you afraid? No. Are you? I want to live until morning.
A middle class fortress in which t… Draw down the curtain as if saying… While noon’s ablaze, ablaze outsid… And outside people work and sweat And the day clings by and the hard…
Men go to women mutely for their p… And they, who lack it most, create… They make–because they must, lovin… A solace for sad bosom-bended head… Is all the meager peace men get–no…
I have moved west, I travel with… You cannot hold, you cannot hinder… There are no ends for what I have… There are no resting places where… Until I am surrendered to the sea…
Gnats and an ant have gnawed your… You who could spring and sprawl on… Down half the meadow. Under tiny… The ant has stored your essence.… You stitched the air with level da…
These were his songs. Now he has… All he has made, that has he also… Seeing my beauty budding, broke th… Finding his likeness here, where h… Finding the flame of his hurt spir…
Only to tell your loveliness–this… Only to tell Pain’s odor, beauty-burning miracl… Of my surrender! Late I flew...
Over you, over you, over, I hang like a wave, like a lover, Like a scimitar edged with hate; Too heavy with grief to be straigh… And far,
Swing, swing, and swoon, Morning, evening, noon, And with night, sleep. If you must, weep– But here, here with me.
Boys and girls, come out to play: The sun is up, the wind’s astray, Early morning’s gold is gone– (They slumber on, they slumber on.… I have never done with you
Your face from my face slips, Lover of my lips. Holder of my heart, For all our close companionships, We are apart.
Now I am slow and placid, fond of… Like a sleek beast, or a worn one, No slim and languid girl – not gla… With the windy trip I once had, But velvet-footed, musing of my ow…
Fifty wizards working in the wind And one tall wizard standing in th… Made a quick sheen to lacquer all… Up leapt the sun. The air was far… The weeds, the grass, the corn, th…
Sap stirs near me, roots stretch a… Sundering stones. And rivers waken, start in monoton… Their later tunes. Oaks bend their knotted knees
Up that thin river, going over san… Down that deep river, purple to th… My fingers fire; cool your quiet h… And your voice sad, and mine the a… So, silver-thin, the flute-like ru…