A sentence with “dappled shadow” in it.
Something not sayable
spurting from the morning silence,
secret as a thrush.
The other man, the officer, who brought onions
and wine and sacks of flour,
the major with the swollen knee,
wanted intelligent conversation afterward.
Having no choice, she provided that, too.
Potsdamerplatz, May 1945.
When the first one was through he pried her mouth
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear! your true-love’s coming
That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journey’s end in lovers’ meeting–
Every wise man’s son doth know.
What is love? ’tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What’s to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty,–
In those days they say
Animals live in the bush
I wish my father can travel go West
To see cat and dog
Antelope and elephant
Tiger and lion
Living in a man’s house.
They call them pets
But I don’t understand
While in my continent
Beggar,
There he stoops all day,
Wrinkled,
Grey-haired,
Senile,
With his stained beard, and his pavement bowl,
Hand hopefully outstretched,
Entreating,
Entreating with his eyes,
Entreating with his tongue,
Entreating with his hand,
Yet we saunter by,
Eyes earthwards riveted.
Sometimes a gnarled stick,
Sometimes none,
Always the filthy kanzu,
PART I
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
‘By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp’st thou me?
The Bridegroom’s doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May’st hear the merry din.’
He holds him with his skinny hand,
‘There was a ship,’
They put the screens around his bed;
a crumpled heap I saw him lie,
White counterpane and rough dark head,
those screens – they showed that he would die.
The put the screens about his bed;
We might not play the gramophone,
And so we played at cards instead
And left him dying there alone.
The covers on the screens are red,<br
Although thy hand and faith, and good works too,
Have seal’d thy love which nothing should undo,
Yea though thou fall back, that apostasy
Confirm thy love; yet much, much I fear thee.
Women are like the Arts, forc’d unto none,
Open to’all searchers, unpriz’d, if unknown.
If I have caught a bird, and let him fly,
Another fouler using
I came back home and retired to my couch
Walking on a deviant road
Which seemed exciting but weary like a long voyage
I saw one imp spiteful like an inferno
That suddenly changed into three dragons
Their eyes were frightened and anxious like lion claws
I appeased the land with three white doves
And struck the ground with my staff<br
Gentle I go
When her glimpse
Attracted my coming back.
Gentle I laid
Hand round her shoulder
And felt the surrounding with lust.
These to His Memory–since he held them dear,
Perchance as finding there unconsciously
Some image of himself–I dedicate,
I dedicate, I consecrate with tears–
These Idylls.
And indeed He seems to me
Scarce other than my king’s ideal knight,
“Who reverenced his conscience as his king;<br
Wines of the great châteaux
Have been uncorked for you;
Come, take this terrace chair:
Examine the menu.
The view from here is such
As cannot find a match,
For even as you dine
You’re so placed as to watch
Starvation in our streets
That gives your canapé
Wounded sore the stricken soul
Lies bleeding and unbound
Tears of anguish flow
The broken heart of woe
Feels for all our grief
Broken heart and downcast eyes
Bound by many a chain
Heart weary, restless soul
Peace long sought
The calm of hills above
Shattered and bruised soul
Witching pleasures of vain world charm
The brave Geraint, a knight of Arthur’s court,
A tributary prince of Devon, one
Of that great Order of the Table Round,
Had married Enid, Yniol’s only child,
And loved her, as he loved the light of Heaven.
And as the light of Heaven varies, now
At sunrise, now at sunset, now by night
With moon and trembling stars, so
OF A MOTHER FOR THE DEATH OF HER CHILD .
A dew-drop on a wither’d leaf,
As bright, as lovely, and as brief,
Thy being was—thou camest from heaven,
Like dew-drops on the car of even;
Where blush’d the morning’s early ray,
Thou, beauteous one, wert pass’d away!
If thou hadst liv’d, thou fragile flower,
To soothe me in mine hour
Beautiful cities of Eastern Europe in Ukraine shatter by atomic bombs:
Cherkasy
Chernihiv
Chernivtsi
Dnipropetrovsk
Donetsk
Ivano-Frankivsk
Kharkiv
Kherson
Khmelnytskyi
Kiev
Kiroyobrad
Luhansk
Lviv
Mykolaiv
Where do you live?
I live in ten thousand years of steep mountain
I live in ten thousand years of crag-rock
And your age?
My age is greater than the mountain’s
Greater than the crag-rock’s
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember
Your bliss is not my bliss
and yet perhaps
if I tell you my bliss
there may be a place
where we can meet
beyond words
My father
used to meet that small him
who was me
every afternoon from school
in the green park across from School
Drum of war is still and silent like coma,
Tears mob the land and rent homes apart,
The velocity of their echoes
Travelled far beyond the seas,
Our heroes, the conquerors of many wars,
Returned home and silence like grave.
Masquerades amuse the day
With their best dancing steps,
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
There will the river whispering run
Warm’d by thy eyes, more than the sun;
And there the ‘enamour’d fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each
