Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth ——nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking the field by force; the grass

And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn

The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,

They tell me on the morrow I must… This winter eyrie for a southern f… And truth to tell I tremble with… At thought of such unheralded repr… E’er have I known December in a w…

The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices

This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream

THE ARCHER is wake! The Swan is flying! Gold against blue An Arrow is lying. There is hunting in heaven—

A day on the boulevards chosen out… student poverty! One best day out… Berket in high spirits—"Ha, orang… And he made to snatch an orange fr… Now so clever was the deception, s…

You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich

Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derisi… outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am

A three-day-long rain from the eas… an terminable talking, talking of no consequence—patter, patter,… Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.

Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…