#English
Hate in the world’s hand Can carve and set its seal Like the strong blast of sand Which cuts into steel. I have seen how the finger of hate
Let us walk in the white snow In a soundless space; With footsteps quiet snd slow, At a tranquil pace, Under veils of white lace.
Within my house of patterned horn I sleep in such a bed As men may keep before they’re bor… And after when they’re dead. Sticks and stones may break their…
Lovers eminent in love Ever diversities combine; The vocal chords of the cushat-dov… The snake’s articulated spine. Such elective elements
My locks are shorn for sorrow Of love which may not be; Tomorrow and tomorrow Are plotting cruelty. The winter wind tangles
Man, the egregious egoist (In mystery the twig is bent) Imagines, by some mental twist, That he alone is sentient Of the intolerable load
Liza, go steep your long white han… In the cool waters of that spring Which bubbles up through shiny san… The colour of a wild-dove’s wing. Dabble your hands, and steep them…
Let us quarrel for these reasons: You detest the salt which seasons My speech . . . and all my lights… In the cold poison of your doubt. I love Shelley . . . you love Kea…
Why should my sleepy heart be taug… To whistle mocking-bird replies? This is another bird you’ve caught… Soft-feathered, with a falcon’s ey… The bird Imagination,
When foxes eat the last gold grape… And the last white antelope is kil… I shall stop fighting and escape Into a little house I’ll build. But first I’ll shrink to fairy si…
Once upon a time I heard That the flying moon was a Phoeni… Thus she sails through windy skies… Thus in the willow’s arms she lies… Turn to the East or turn to the W…
For this you’ve striven Daring, to fail: Your sky is riven Like a tearing veil. For this, you’ve wasted
Ah, love, within the shadow of the… The laurels are cut down; some oth… May bear the classic wreath which… And find the burden honorable and… Have we not passed the laurels as…
It is not heaven: bitter seed Leavens its entrails with despair It is a star where dragons breed: Devils have a footing there. The sky has bent it out of shape;
She has danced for leagues and lea… Over thorns and thistles, Prancing to a tune of Griegg’s Performed on willow whistles. Antelopes behold her, dazed,