#Americans
If there is a witness to my little… To my tiny throes and struggles, He sees a fool; And it is not fine for gods to men…
AH, God, the way your little fing… As you thrust a bare arm backward And made play with your hair And a comb a silly gilt comb Ah, God—that I should suffer
A god in wrath Was beating a man; He cuffed him loudly With thunderous blows That rang and rolled over the eart…
There were many who went in huddle… They knew not whither; But, at any rate, success or calam… Would attend all in equality. There was one who sought a new roa…
You tell me this is God? I tell you this is a printed list, A burning candle, and an ass.
“I have heard the sunset song of t… A white melody in the silence, I have seen a quarrel of the pines… At nightfall The little grasses have rushed by…
A youth in apparel that glittered Went to walk in a grim forest. There he met an assassin Attired all in garb of old days; He, scowling through the thickets,
A MAN builded a bugle for the st… The focused winds hurled him afar. He said that the instrument was a… II When the suicide arrived at the sk…
ONCE I saw mountains angry, And ranged in battle-front. Against them stood a little man; Ay, he was no bigger than my finge… I laughed, and spoke to one near m…
Once a man clambering to the house… Appealed to the heavens. With strong voice he called to the… A warrior’s shout he raised to the… Lo, at last, there was a dot on th…
There was a land where lived no vi… A traveller at once demanded: ‘Wh… The people told him: ‘Once the violets of this place sp… ’Until some woman freely gives her…
There was set before me a mighty h… And long days I climbed Through regions of snow. When I had before me the summit-v… It seemed that my labour
Ay, workman, make me a dream, A dream for my love. Cunningly weave sunlight, Breezes, and flowers. Let it be of the cloth of meadows.
A spirit sped Through spaces of night; And as he sped, he called, “God! God!” He went through valleys
Mystic shadow, bending near me, Who art thou? Whence come ye? And—tell me—is it fair Or is the truth bitter as eaten fi…