Winter Field (Kihachi Ozaki Poems)
Now, over the field,evening hangs suspended like a gigantic harp.Frost binds the ridges solemnly severed furrow from furrow;the long harp-sound ...
Now, over the field,evening hangs suspended like a gigantic harp.Frost binds the ridges solemnly severed furrow from furrow;the long harp-sound ...
Higher and still more high, Palaces made for cloud, Above the dingy city-roofs Blue-white like angels with broad wings, Pillars of the sky at ...
The cretonne in your willow chairShows through a zone of rosy air,A tree of parrots, agate-eyed,With blue-green crests and plumes ...
A BalladThere dances a woman by moonlight,She glimmers far into the night,Robe fluttering wild, eyes glittering clear,Like diamonds set in ...
Like grey-winged phantoms out of sullen skies They flood our cells and seem to fashion there I know not what dim landscapes ...
We expected the violin's finger on the upturned nerve;Its importunate cry, too laxly curved:And you drew us an oboe-outline, clean ...
Do not boast of your speed,O blue-green stream running by the hills:Once you have reached the wide ocean,You can return ...
1 The autumn shade is thin. Grey leaves lie faint Where they will lie, and, where the thick green was, ...
Evening steals on in stillness o'er the heath,Across the blue-green sky and fire-tinged clouds,And silent birds wing homewards; misty shroudsRise ...
I've a kiss from a warmer lover Than maiden earth can be:She ...
I look along the dusty dreary way, So lately strew'd with blossoms fresh and gay,- The sweet procession ...
Silence instead of thy sweet song, my bird,Which through the darkness of my winter daysWarbling of summer sunshine still was ...
We expected the violin's finger on the upturned nerve;Its importunate cry, too laxly curved:And you drew us an oboe-outline, clean ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
The nursery fire burns brightly, crackling in cheerful little explosions and trails of sparks up the back of the chimney. ...
This morning was something. A little snow lay on the ground. The sun floated in a clear blue sky. The ...
Turning it over, considering, like a madman Henry put forth a book. No harm resulted from this. Neither the menstruating ...
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets ...
We sat together at one summer's end, That beautiful mild woman, your close friend, And you and I, and talked ...
This English Thames is holier far than Rome, Those harebells like a sudden flush of sea Breaking across the woodland, ...
We expected the violin's finger on the upturned nerve; Its importunate cry, too laxly curved: And you drew us an ...
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