Pictures of the Floating WorldMacmillan, 1919 - 257 psl. |
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64-66 Fifth Avenue Alfred Kreymborg AMY LOWELL Atlantic Monthly beautiful beech-trees Beloved blossoms blows blue blue larkspur branches bright bush Canterbury bells CHINOISERIES clouds cold colour Company Inc COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Cousin-Captain crimson cups danced disappearing guns edge emerald feet fingers fire fireflies flame flash garden gaze glitter gold golden Grande's Castle grass green grey hair hands Harriet Monroe heart ice trees jade Japanese poetry John Keats junks Sailing Lady larkspur light lilac leaves lilies Louis UNTERMEYER Lowell's mauve Miss Lowell mist moon moonlight morning night orange painted pale parterres peonies Persepolis phlox pine-trees pink poems poetry poets poppies Publishers 64-66 Fifth purple quiet rain roofs rose round sail sand shadows shine sick for passion silk silver slowly smooth snow stars streaked street string sunlight sway tall tulips twisted walk watch wind window yellow YOSHIWARA young
Populiarios ištraukos
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46 psl. - The sun shines in on your books, On your scissors and thimble just put down, But you are not there. Suddenly I am lonely: Where are you ? I go about searching. Then I see you, Standing under a spire of pale blue larkspur, With a basket of roses on your arm. You are cool, like silver, And you smile. I think the Canterbury bells are playing little tunes, You tell me that the peonies need spraying, That the columbines have overrun all bounds, That the pyrus japonica should be cut back and rounded. You...
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84 psl. - Why do the lilies goggle their tongues at me When I pluck them; And writhe and twist, And strangle themselves against my fingers, So that I can hardly weave the garland For your hair? Why do they shriek your name And spit at me When I would cluster them? Must I kill them To make them lie still, And send you a wreathe of lolling corpses To turn putrid and soft On your forehead While you dance?
6 psl. - SUNSHINE The pool is edged with the blade-like leaves of irises. If I throw a stone into the placid water. It suddenly stiffens Into rings and rings Of sharp gold wire.
103 psl. - It plays at ball in odd, blue Chinese gardens, And shakes wrought dice-cups in Pagan temples Amid the broken flutings of white pillars. It dances with purple and yellow crocuses in its hair, And its feet shine as they flutter over drenched grasses. How light and laughing my mind is, When all...
58 psl. - Bullion MY thoughts Chink against my ribs And roll about like silver hail-stones. I should like to spill them out, And pour them, all shining, Over you. But my heart is shut upon them And holds them straitly. Come, You! and open my heart; That my thoughts torment me no longer, But glitter in your hair.