#AmericanWriters
Good God! They say you are risqué… O canzonetti! We who went out into the four A.… Composing our albas, We who shook off our dew with the…
May I for my own self song’s trut… Journey’s jargon, how I in harsh… Hardship endured oft. Bitter breast—cares have I abided… Known on my keel many a care’s hol…
Because a lady asks me, I would t… Of an affect that comes often and… And is so overweening; Love by na… E’en its deniers can now hear the… I for the nonce to them that know…
Time and the Earth - The old Father and Mother - Their teeming accomplished, Their purpose fulfilled, Close with a smile
As cool as the pale wet leaves of lily-of-the-valley She lay beside me in the dawn.
All night, and as the wind lieth a… The cypress trees, he lay, Nor held me save as air that brush… Close, and as the petals of flower… Waver and seem not drawn to earth,…
She passed and left no quiver in t… Moving among the trees, and clingi… in the air she severed, Fanning the grass she walked on th… Grey olive leaves beneath a rain-c…
Even in my dreams you have denied… And sent me only your handmaids.
`Tis of my country that I would e… In hope to set some misconceptions… My country? I love it well, and t… Who, since their wit’s unknown, es… But you stuffed coats who’re neith…
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…
You were praised, my books, because I had just come from the c… I was twenty years behind the time… so you found an audience ready. I do not disown you,
It rests me to be among beautiful… Why should one always lie about su… I repeat: It rests me to converse with beaut… Even though we talk nothing but no…
And before hell mouth; dry plain and two mountains; On the one mountain, a running for… and another In the turn of the hill; in hard s…
I can not bow to woo thee With honey words and flower kisses And the dew of sweet half—truths Fallen on the grass of old quaint… Of broidered days foredone.
The petals fall in the fountain, the orange-coloured rose-leaves, Their ochre clings to the stone.