Craft (Boris Pasternak Poems)
When, having finished, I shall move my armchair,The page will gasp, awakened from the strain.Delirious, she is half asleep at ...
When, having finished, I shall move my armchair,The page will gasp, awakened from the strain.Delirious, she is half asleep at ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
IN a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity: The north cannot undo them, ...
In drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity: The north cannot undo them With ...
At the back of the houses there is the wood. While there is a leaf of summer left, the wood ...
Stirs its ashes and embers, its burnt sticks An eye powdered over, half melted and solid again Ponders Ideas that ...
The week not yet finished not yet the victory of Easter the joy of our Sunday when the Christ rose ...
A patina of haze filled my vision hung heavy in the shimmering air high in the nineties they said but ...
We, the living, buried deep in selfish grief strive to comprehend the passing of your hour, minds are numbed, aghast ...
Absent upon Public Employment My head, my heart, mine eyes, my life, nay more, My joy, my magazine, of earthly ...
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
In every presence there is absence. When we're together, the spaces between Threaten to enclose our bodies And isolate our ...
The pure products of America go crazy- mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its ...
Shaken from sleep, and numbed and scarce awake, Out in the trench with three hours' watch to take, I blunder ...
Ever since those wondrous days of Creation our Lord God sleeps: we are His sleep. And He accepted this in ...
I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numbed too much for ...
I have no wit, I have no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numbed too ...
I winged my bird, Though he flew toward the setting sun; But just as the shot rang out, he soared ...
On March 1, 1958, four deserters from the French Army of North Africa, August Rein, Henri Bruette, Jack Dauville, & ...
"I've been where it hurts." the Kid He becomes Sierra Kid I passed Slimgullion, Morgan Mine, Camp Seco, and the ...
Chapter I. Once on a time, a Dawn, all red and bright Leapt on the conquered ramparts of the Night, ...
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