In a dream I returned to the rive… Five orange trees by the bridge an… Beside two mills my house Into whose courtyard a blind man f… The goats and stood singing

Listen with the night falling we are sayi… we are stopping on the bridges to… we are running out of the glass ro… with our mouths full of food to lo…

How long ago the day is when at last I look at it with the time it has taken to be there still in it now in the transparent light

This is a place on the way after t… can no longer be kept straight her… of the barn a mound of wheels has… raveling courses to stop in a sing… and lie down as still as the chari…

At the last minute a word is waiti… not heard that way before and not… repeated or ever be remembered one that always had been a househo… used in speaking of the ordinary

My friend says I was not a good s… you understand I say yes I understand he says I did not go to see my parents very often you k…

A child looking at ruins grows you… but cold and wants to wake to a new name I have been younger in October than in all the months of spring

The star in my Hand is falling All the uniforms know what’s no us… May I bow to Necessity not To her hirelings

Duporte the roofer that calm voice those sure hands gentling weathere… into new generations or half of him rising through a roof like some sea spirit from a wave

The cold slope is standing in dark… But the south of the trees is dry… The heavy limbs climb into the moo… I came to watch these White plants older at night

Whenever I go there everything is… The stamps on the bandages the tit… Of the professors of water The portrait of Glare the reasons… The white mourning

So gradual in those summers was th… of the age it seemed that the long… when the stars faded over the moun… leaving us even as the birds woke… glittered in the webs it appeared…

While I think of them they are gr… after the distances they have foll… all the way to the end for the fir… tracing a memory they did not have until they set out to remember it

The friends have gone home far up… of that river into whose estuary the man from England sailed in his… in time to catch sight of the late… furring in black the remotest edge…

In the long evening of April thro… Bayle’s two sheep dogs sail down t… for the flock a moment before he a… a stub of a man rolling as he appr… smiling and smiling and his dogs a…