#AmericanWriters
A newspaper is a collection of hal… Which, bawled by boys from mile to… Spreads its curious opinion To a million merciful and sneering… While families cuddle the joys of…
LITTLE birds of the night Aye, they have much to tell Perching there in rows Blinking at me with their serious… Recounting of flowers they have se…
In the night Grey heavy clouds muffled the vall… And the peaks looked toward God a… “O Master that movest the wind wi… Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
There was a man with tongue of woo… Who essayed to sing, And in truth it was lamentable. But there was one who heard The clip-clapper of this tongue of…
Once there was a man - Oh, so wise! In all drink He detected the bitter, And in all touch
Aman said to the universe, ‘Sir, I exist!’ ‘However,’ replied the universe, ‘The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation.’
And you love me I love you. You are, then, cold coward. Aye; but, beloved, When I strive to come to you,
A man toiled on a burning road, Never resting. Once he saw a fat, stupid ass Grinning at him from a green place… The man cried out in rage,
In the night Grey heavy clouds muffled the vall… And the peaks looked toward God a… ‘O Master that movest the wind wi… Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
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…
When a people reach the top of a h… Then does God lean toward them, Shortens tongues and lengthens arm… A vision of their dead comes to th… The moon shall not be too old
‘It was wrong to do this,’ said th… ‘You should live like a flower, Holding malice like a puppy, Waging war like a lambkin.’ ‘Not so,’ quoth the man
I stood upon a highway, And, behold, there came Many strange peddlers. To me each one made gestures, Holding forth little images, sayin…
TELL me why, behind thee, I see always the shadow of another… Is it real Or is this the thrice-damned memor… Plague on him if he be dead
Charity thou art a lie, A toy of women, A pleasure of certain men. In the presence of justice, Lo, the walls of the temple