#AmericanWriters
The Dai horse neighs against the… The birds of Etsu have no love fo… Emotion is born out of habit. Yesterday we went out of the Wild… To-day from the Dragon-Pen.
Kung walked by the dynastic temple and into the cedar grove, and then out by the lower river, And with him Khieu Tchi
The Past was goodly once, and yet… The best of it we know is that it’… Dwindled and faded quite, perished… Nothing is left at last of what on… Coming back like a ghost, staring…
The pomps of butchery, financial p… Told 'em to die in war, and then t… Then cut their saving to the half… When will this system lie down in… The pomps of Fleet St., festering…
Be in me as the eternal moods of the bleak wind, and’not As transient things are gaiety of flowers. Have me in the strong loneliness
The salmon-trout drifts in the str… The soul of the salmon-trout float… Like a little wafer of light. The salmon moves in the sun-shot,… As light as the shadow of the fish
For I was a gaunt, grave councill… Being in all things wise, and very… But I have put aside this folly a… That old age weareth for a cloak. I was quite strong—at least they s…
Go, my songs, seek your praise fro… and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfectio… Seek ever to stand in the hard So… And take you wounds from it gladly…
Under a stagnant sky, Gloom out of gloom uncoiling into… The River, jaded and forlorn, Welters and wanders wearily—wretch… Yet in and out among the ribs
After Li Po While my hair was still cut straig… across my forehead I played at the front gate, pullin… flowers.
I sat on the Dogana’s steps For the gondolas cost too much, th… And there were not “those girls”,… And the Buccentoro twenty yards o… And the lit cross—beams, that year…
The very small children in patched… Being smitten with an unusual wisd… Stopped in their play as she passe… And cried up from their cobbles: Guarda! Ahi, guarda! Ch’ è be’ a!
Put of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pol… I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the full clutch of circumstance…
Your mind and you are our Sargass… London has swept about you this sc… And bright ships left you this or… Ideas, old gossip, oddments of all… Strange spars of knowledge and dim…
WIND Scarce and thin, scarce and thin The government’s excuse, Never at all will they do Aught of the slightest use.