Men go to women mutely for their p… And they, who lack it most, create… They make–because they must, lovin… A solace for sad bosom-bended head… Is all the meager peace men get–no…

A middle class fortress in which t… Draw down the curtain as if saying… While noon’s ablaze, ablaze outsid… And outside people work and sweat And the day clings by and the hard…

Harsh, unuttered thunder Stood like a stone wall Above the marsh’s silver line. Crooked cranes, white as lightning… Flattened for an instant, flashing…

I understand what you were running… Slim naked boy, and why from far i… You came between dark hills. I kn… The sea makes in some ears. I und… I understand why you were running…

Red is the mouth of Pele, passion… Against the fires of the kindling… Fire to fire moves: the heavens wa… As low to earth comes crimson-drip… They kiss in thunder, shudder, suf…

If you will poise your forefoot in… I will not loose a ripple, Beauti… Crackle the fern-stems, arch aloft… See! there’s no fright for you, an… A leaf shall not lift, nor a shade…

Gnats and an ant have gnawed your… You who could spring and sprawl on… Down half the meadow. Under tiny… The ant has stored your essence.… You stitched the air with level da…

Wishes are birds. You have been c… With them, invisible, I sent you… Flown from my heart that long had… Surpassing winds in their sharp ea… You have not seen their dim shades…

I dreamed you were the sea; I dreamed you pounded With foamy fists, the sad face of… Waking, I lay beneath you, And the room resounded

Up that thin river, going over san… Down that deep river, purple to th… My fingers fire; cool your quiet h… And your voice sad, and mine the a… So, silver-thin, the flute-like ru…

Never heard happier laughter. Where did you hear it? Somwhere in the future. Very far in the future? No, not far, but near. American

Now in the fright of change when b… In fountains of debris We say to the stranger coming acro… Not here, not here, go elsewhere! Here we keep

How tender-mad the little meadows… The wobbling lambs are tasting mil… The tipsy trees Are leaned like foam on green, win… The pale moth flutters where the p…

These were his songs. Now he has… All he has made, that has he also… Seeing my beauty budding, broke th… Finding his likeness here, where h… Finding the flame of his hurt spir…

There is a bird that hangs head-do… Between the mango leaves and passi… Below, a spotted serpent twines And blunts its head against the ye… Along the warping ground a turtle…