#EnglishWriters
When the bare feet of the baby bea… The little white feet nod like whi… They poise and run like ripples la… And the sight of their white play… Is like a little robin’s song, win…
Forever nameless Forever unknwon Forever unconceived Forever unrepresented yet forever felt in the soul.
THE houses fade in a melt of mist Blotching the thick, soiled air With reddish places that still res… The Night’s slow care. The hopeless, wintry twilight fade…
SAD as he sits on the white sea-s… And the suave sea chuckles, and tu… And the moon significant smiles at… He sits like a shade by the flood… While I dance a tarantella on the…
The new red houses spring like pla… In level rows Of reddish herbage that bristles a… Its square shadows. The pink young houses show one sid…
When the autumn roses Are heavy with dew, Before the mist discloses The leaf’s brown hue, You would, among the laughing hill…
The quick sparks on the gorse—bush… Little jets of sunlight texture im… Above them, exultant, the peewits… They have triumphed again o’er the… Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth,…
Not every man has gentians in his… in Soft September, at slow, Sad… Bavarian gentians, big and dark, o… darkening the daytime torchlike wi… gloom,
Along the avenue of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks and su… Of linen, go the chanting choriste… The priests in gold and black, the… And all along the path to the ceme…
Since I lost you I am silence—hau… Sounds wave their little wings A moment, then in weariness settle On the flood that soundless swings… Whether the people in the street
They say the sea is cold, but the… the hottest blood of all, and the… All the whales in the wider deeps,… on and on, and dive beneath the ic… The right whales, the sperm—whales…
All people dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the du… Wake in the morning to find that i… But the dreamers of the day are da… For they dream their dreams with o…
At evening, sitting on this terrac… When the sun from the west, beyond… Departs, and the world is taken by… When the tired flower of Florence… Brown hills surrounding...
See the stars, love, In the water much clearer and brig… Than those above us, and whiter, Like nenuphars. Star—shadows shine, love,
As we live, we are transmitters of… And when we fail to transmit life,… That is part of the mystery of sex… Sexless people transmit nothing. And if, as we work, we can transmi…