I wonder how it would be here with you, where the wind that has shaken off its dust in lo… touches one cleanly,

Drab discoloration Of faces, façades, pawn-shops, Second-hand clothing, Smoky and fly-blown glass of lunch… Odors of rancid life’€¦

Wind rising in the alleys My spirit lifts in you like a bann… You are full of unspent dreams.... You are laden with beginnings.... There is hope in you... not sweet.…

In a little Hungarian cafe Men and women are drinking Yellow wine in tall goblets. Through the milky haze of the smok… The fiddler, under-sized, blond,

Indigo bulb of darkness Punctured by needle lights Through a fissure of brick canyon… And a sliver of moon Spigoting two high windows over th…

Mama’s face is smooth and pale as tea-rose lea… That ivory oval of aunt Gem you sucked the miniature off had black black hair like mama.

When you tell mama you are going to do something grea… she looks at you as though you were a window she were trying to see through,

Blow through me wind As you blow through apple blossoms… Scatter me in shining petals over… Joyously I reunite’€¦ sway and ga… Sedately I walk by the dancing fe…

(Easter 1916) Censored lies that mimic truth’€¦ Censored truth as pale as fear’€¦ My heart is like a rousing bell - And but the dead to hear’€¦

The soldiers lie upon the snow, That no longer gyrates under the s… Night juggles in her fat black han… They will not babble any more secr… nights

Men die’€¦ Dreams only change their houses. They cannot be lined up against a… And quietly buried under ground, And no more heard of’€¦

Because you are four years old the candle is all dressed up in a… And stars nod to you through the h… (except the big stiff planets too fat to move about much,)

Not yet hast Thou sounded Thy clangorous music, Whose strings are under the mounta… Not yet hast Thou spoken The blooded, implacable Word...

You can see the sandhills from our… Butterflies live in the sandhills and lizards and centipedes.

Will you feast with me, American… But what have I that shall seem g… On my board are bitter apples And honey served on thorns, And in my flagons fluid iron,