I must tell you this young tree whose round and firm trunk between the wet pavement and the gutter

Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…

According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field

Sorrow is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire

Love is twain, it is not single, Gold and silver mixed to one, Passion '€˜tis and pain which ming… Glist’ring then for aye undone. Pain it is not; wondering pity

The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls

You Communists and Republicans! all you Germans and Frenchmen! you corpses and quickeners! The stars are about to melt and fall on you in tears.

Go to sleep—though of course you w… to tideless waves thundering slant… strong embankments, rattle and swi… dashed thirty feet high, caught by… scattered and strewn broadcast in…

The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge

While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on

An old willow with hollow branches slowly swayed his few high gright… and sang: Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood’s edge…

Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth—nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking thefield by force; the grass

Mr T. bareheaded in a soiled undershirt his hair standing out on all sides

The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers