#AmericanWriters
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,
When the prophet, a complacent fat… Arrived at the mountain-top, He cried: “Woe to my knowledge! I intended to see good white lands And bad black lands,
“Think as I think,” said a man, “Or you are abominably wicked; You are a toad.” And after I had thought of it, I said, “I will, then, be a toad.…
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…
“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
A learned man came to me once. He said, “I know the way,—come.” And I was overjoyed at this. Together we hastened. Soon, too soon, were we
You say you are holy, And that Because I have not seen you sin. Aye, but there are those Who see you sin, my friend.
The wayfarer, Perceiving the pathway to truth, Was struck with astonishment. It was thickly grown with weeds. “Ha,” he said,
There was one I met upon the road Who looked at me with kind eyes. He said, “Show me of your wares.” And this I did, Holding forth one.
The chatter of a death-demon from… Blood– blood and torn grass – Had marked the rise of his agony - This lone hunter. The grey-green woods impassive
Places among the stars, Soft gardens near the sun, Keep your distant beauty; Shed no beams upon my weak heart. Since she is here
A man said to the universe: “Sir I exist!” “However,” replied the universe, “The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation.”
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…
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,
“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…