Landscape of a Pissing Multitude (Federico Garcia Lorca Poem)
The men kept to themselves: they were waiting for the swiftness of the last cyclists. The women kept to themselves: ...
The men kept to themselves: they were waiting for the swiftness of the last cyclists. The women kept to themselves: ...
Three Kings came riding from far away, Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar; Three Wise Men out of the East were ...
I stood on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon rose o'er the ...
My mother-- preferring the strange to the tame: Dove-note, bone marrow, deer dung, Frog's belly distended with finny young, Leaf-mould ...
Now in the suburbs and the falling light I followed him, and now down sandy road Whitter than bone-dust, through ...
Spring, rainbows, ordinary miracles about which nothing new can be said. The stars on a clear night of a New ...
Love is apart from all things. Desire and excitement are nothing beside it. It is not the body that finds ...
Love of my life, you Are lost and I am Young again. A few years pass. The air fills With ...
Rank or fragrant rotten or sweet the bitterness or pungency the sharpness of the odor in words of smell triggering ...
A certain smell distinct and acrid mold in the memories the boxes of our past saved too long in the ...
I WALKED down alone Sunday after church To the place where John has been cutting trees To see for myself ...
WHEN I was young, we dwelt in a vale By a misty fen that rang all night, And thus it ...
Inscription for a Garden Wall Winds blow the open grassy places bleak; But where this old wall burns a sunny ...
Afield at dusk What things for dream there are when specter-like, Moving amond tall haycocks lightly piled, I enter alone ...
What sort of arrow split the sky and this rock? It's quivering, spreading like a peacock's fan Like the mist ...
They have a little Odor -- that to me Is metre -- nay -- 'tis melody -- And spiciest at ...
I Everyone has their own peculiar price, not quantifiable in currency. When my hypodermic grazed your vein, you confessed yours. ...
"Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never ...
The brown enormous odor he lived by was too close, with its breathing and thick hair, for him to judge. ...
Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines From his mountains; an ...
84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines 85 From his ...
An odor has remained among the sugarcane: a mixture of blood and body, a penetrating petal that brings nausea. Between ...
Nempe sic innumero succrescunt agmine libri, Saepia vix toto ut jam natet una mari. Fortius assidui surgunt a vulnere praeli: ...
The wind, one brilliant day, called to my soul with an odor of jasmine. "In return for the odor of ...
She wakens early remembering her father rising in the dark lighting the stove with a match scraped on the floor. ...
Green fingers holding the hillside, mustard whipping in the sea winds, one blood-bright poppy breathing in and out. The odor ...
Filaments of light slant like windswept rain. The orange seller hawks into the sky, a man with a hat stops ...
For ever wave, for ever float and shine Before my yearning eyes, oh! dream of mine Wherein I dreamed that ...
"So pulse, and pulse, thou rhythmic-hearted Noon That liest, large-limbed, curved along the hills, In languid palpitation, half a-swoon With ...
"O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead! The Time needs heart -- 'tis tired of head: We're all for ...
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