#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
I understood the rest too well, And all their thoughts have come t… Clear as grey sea-weed in the swel… Of a sunny shallow sea. But you I never understood,
They came to tell your faults to m… They named them over one by one; I laughed aloud when they were don… I knew them all so well before, - Oh, they were blind, too blind to…
Here in the velvet stillness The wide sown fields fall to the f… Sleeping in starlight. . . . A year ago we walked in the jangli… Together . . . . forgetful.
Your mind and mine are such great… Have freed themselves from cautiou… And on wild clouds of thought, nak… They ride above us in extreme deli… We see them, we look up with a lon…
Like barley bending In low fields by the sea, Singing in hard wind Ceaselessly; Like barley bending
I made a hundred little songs That told the joy and pain of love… And sang them blithely, tho’ I kn… No whit thereof. I was a weaver deaf and blind;
A little while when I am gone My life will live in music after m… As spun foam lifted and borne on After the wave is lost in the full… A while these nights and days will…
MY forefathers gave me My spirit’s shaken flame, The shape of hands, the beat of he… The letters of my name. But it was my lovers,
She is too kind, I think, for mor… Too gentle for the gusty ways of e… God gave to her a shy and silver m… And made her soul as clear And softly singing as an orchard s…
If you have forgotten water lilies… On a dark lake among mountains in… If you have forgotten their wet, s… Then you can return and not be afr… But if you remember, then turn awa…
REDBIRDS, redbirds, Long and long ago, What a honey-call you had In hills I used to know; Redbud, buckberry,
Send out the singers—let the room… They have not eased my pain nor br… Close out the sun, for I would ha… That I may feel how black the gra… The sun is setting, for the light…
The winds have grown articulate in… And voiced again the wail of ancie… That smote upon the winds of long… The cries of Trojan women as they… The quivering moan of pale Androm…
All that could never be said, All that could never be done, Wait for us at last Somewhere back of the sun; All the heart broke to forego
At midnight, when the moonlit cypr… Have woven round his grave a magic… Still weeping the unfinished hymn… There moves fresh Maia, like a mo… Blown over jonquil beds when warm…