#English Modern
THE houses fade in a melt of mist Blotching the thick, soiled air With reddish places that still res… The Night’s slow care. The hopeless, wintry twilight fade…
As we live, we are transmitters of… And when we fail to transmit life,… That is part of the mystery of sex… Sexless people transmit nothing. And if, as we work, we can transmi…
She is large and matronly And rather dirty, A little sardonic—looking, as if d… Though what she does, except lay f… And put up with her husband,
The train in running across the we… So even, it beats like silence, an… Embrace of darkness lie around, an… And littered lettering of leaves a… The open book of landscape no more…
My world is a painted fresco, wher… Of old, ineffectual lives linger b… An endless tapestry the past has w… The halls of my life, compelling m… The surface of dreams is broken,
The pine-trees bend to listen to t… Something which sets the black pop… While slowly the house of day is c… Further down the valley the cluste… Winding about their dimness the mi…
The acrid scents of autumn, Reminiscent of slinking beasts, ma… Everything, tear-trembling stars o… And the snore of the night in my e… For suddenly, flush-fallen,
A snake came to my water—trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjam… To drink there. In the deep, strange—scented shade… I came down the steps with my pitc…
The moon is broken in twain, and h… Before me lies on the still, pale… The other half of the broken coin… Is buried away in the dark, where… They buried her half in the grave…
What large, dark hands are those a… Lifted, grasping the golden light Which weaves its way through the c… To my heart’s delight? Ah, only the leaves! But in the w…
My love looks like a girl to—night… But she is old. The plaits that lie along her pill… Are not gold, But threaded with filigree silver,
Ah in the thunder air how still the trees are! And the lime—tree, lovely and tall… hardly looses even a last breath o… And the ghostly, creamy coloured l…
On he goes, the little one, Bud of the universe, Pediment of life. Setting off somewhere, apparently. Whither away, brisk egg?
Ah, you stack of white lilies, all… A am adrift as a sunbeam, and with… Or having, save I light on you to… Your pallor into radiance, flush y… White beauty into incandescence: y…
The glimmer of the limes, sun-heav… Goes trembling past me up the Col… Below, the lawn, in soft blue shad… The daisy-froth quiescent, softly… Beyond the leaves that overhang th…