In a little Hungarian cafe Men and women are drinking Yellow wine in tall goblets. Through the milky haze of the smok… The fiddler, under-sized, blond,

Tender and tremulous green of leav… Turned up by the wind, Twanging among the vines - Wind in the grass Blowing a clear path

We are old, Old as song. Before Rome was Or Cyrene. Mad nights knew us

The earth is motionless And poised in space ... A great bird resting in its flight Between the alleys of the stars. It is the wind’s hour off ...

Aren’t there bigger things to talk… Than a window in Greenwich Villag… And hyacinths sprouting Like little puce poems out of a si… Some cosmic hearsay—

Cool, inaccessible air Is floating in velvety blackness s… But no breath stirs the heat Leaning its ponderous bulk upon th… And most on Hester street…

Skyscrapers... remote, unpartisan.… Turning neither to the right nor l… Your imperturbable fronts.... Austerely greeting the sun With one chilly finger of stone...…

Out of fiery contacts ... Rushing auras of steel Touching and whirled apart ... Out of the charged phallases Of iron leaping

The old men of the world have made… To warm their trembling hands. They poke the young men in. The young men burn like withes. If one run a little way,

Pythoness body—arching Over the night like an ecstasy— I feel your coils tightening... And the world’s lessening breath.

What of the silence of the keys And silvery hands? The iron sings… Though bows lie broken on the stri… The fly-wheels turn eternally’€¦ Bring fuel - drive the fires high’…

Light! Innumerable ions of light, Kindling, irradiating, All to their foci tending… Light that jingles like anklet cha…

Bountiful Givers, I look along the years And see the flowers you threw’€¦ Anemones And sprigs of gray

Man of the flame-eyes And mouth with the bitter twist of… And little bald man . . . whose se… Is akin to the velocity of a spinn… Holding its perfect poise—

Cherry, cherry, glowing on the hearth, bright red cherry... When you try to pick up cherry Celia’s shriek