#English Modern
How beastly the bourgeois is especially the male of the species… Presentable, eminently presentable… shall I make you a present of him? Isn’t he handsome? Isn’t he healt…
Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me? Ah, you will understand;
Always, sweetheart, Carry into your room the blossomin… Almond and apple and pear diffuse… Soon strews itself on the floor; a… Fresh quivering; keep the sunny—sw…
A big bud of moon hangs out of the… Star—spiders spinning their thread Hang high suspended, withouten res… Watching us overhead. Come then under the trees, where t…
A faint, sickening scent of irises Persists all morning. Here in a j… A fine proud spike of purple irise… Rising above the class—room litter… To see the class’s lifted and bend…
A snake came to my water—trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjam… To drink there. In the deep, strange—scented shade… I came down the steps with my pitc…
Ah in the thunder air how still the trees are! And the lime—tree, lovely and tall… hardly looses even a last breath o… And the ghostly, creamy coloured l…
WHEN into the night the yellow l… Or like a mist the moon has kissed… Our faces flower for a little hour… Daisies that waken all mistaken wh… The luminous mist which the poor t…
The frost has settled down upon th… And ruthlessly strangled off the f… Of leaves that have gone unnoticed… Romantic stories now no more to be… The trees down the boulevard stand…
Not every man has gentians in his… in Soft September, at slow, Sad… Bavarian gentians, big and dark, o… darkening the daytime torchlike wi… gloom,
Patience, little Heart. One day a heavy, June—hot woman Will enter and shut the door to st… And when your stifling heart would… Cool, lonely night, her roused bre…
The dawn was apple-green, The sky was green wine held up in… The moon was a golden petal betwee… She opened her eyes, and green They shone, clear like flowers und…
When she rises in the morning I linger to watch her; She spreads the bath—cloth underne… And the sunbeams catch her Glistening white on the shoulders,
When the autumn roses Are heavy with dew, Before the mist discloses The leaf’s brown hue, You would, among the laughing hill…
My little love, my darling, You were a doorway to me; You let me out of the confines Into this strange countrie, Where people are crowded like this…
