#EnglishWriters
The Cross, the Cross Goes deeper in than we know, Deeper into life; Right into the marrow And through the bone.
Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me? Ah, you will understand;
See the stars, love, In the water much clearer and brig… Than those above us, and whiter, Like nenuphars. Star—shadows shine, love,
The morning breaks like a pomegran… In a shining crack of red, Ah, when tomorrow the dawn comes l… Whitening across the bed, It will find me watching at the ma…
What large, dark hands are those a… Lifted, grasping the golden light Which weaves its way through the c… To my heart’s delight? Ah, only the leaves! But in the w…
Don’t you care for my love? she sa… I handed her the mirror, and said: Please address these questions to… Please make all requests to head—q… In all matters of emotional import…
The train in running across the we… So even, it beats like silence, an… Embrace of darkness lie around, an… And littered lettering of leaves a… The open book of landscape no more…
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead… without ever having felt sorry for…
Yours is the shame and sorrow, But the disgrace is mine; Your love was dark and thorough, Mine was the love of the sun for a… He creates with his shine.
You know what it is to be born alo… Baby tortoise! The first day to heave your feet l… Not yet awake, And remain lapsed on earth,
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:…
The frost has settled down upon th… And ruthlessly strangled off the f… Of leaves that have gone unnoticed… Romantic stories now no more to be… The trees down the boulevard stand…
Delicate mother Kangaroo Sitting up there rabbit—wise, but… And lifting her beautiful slender… gently and finely lined than a rab… Lifting her face to nibble at a ro…
It ought to be lovely to be old to be full of the peace that comes… and wrinkled ripe fulfilment. The wrinkled smile of completeness… lived undaunted and unsoured with…
The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never r…