Little Viennese Waltz (Federico Garcia Lorca Poem)
In Vienna there are ten little girls, a shoulder for death to cry on, and a forest of dried pigeons. ...
In Vienna there are ten little girls, a shoulder for death to cry on, and a forest of dried pigeons. ...
Up attic, Lucas Harrison, God rest his frugal bones, once kept a tidy account by knifecut of some long-gone harvest. ...
My mother never forgave my father for killing himself, especially at such an awkward time and in a public park, ...
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A ...
A Vienna ci sono dieci ragazze, una spalla dove piange la morte e un bosco di colombe disseccate. C'e' un ...
Papier-mache body; blue-and-black cotton jersey cover. Metal stand. Instructions included. -- Sears, Roebuck Catalogue O my coy darling, still You ...
You gave me the child that seamed my belly & stitched up my life. You gave me: one book of ...
The forest bitter, spiky, no shore breeze, no foothills, the grass grows matted, death will come with horses' hooves, endlessly ...
A dying firelight slides along the quirt Of the cast iron cowboy where he leans Against my father's books. The ...
(1) a great man there was a great man so great he couldn't be criticised in the light who died ...
Lo! where the rosy-bosomed Hours, Fair Venus' train, appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year! The Attic ...
When I read the words of Matthew I thought about what it would be like if my attic was empty, ...
From art to law from beauty to pain a life with twists and turns bringing him home and bringing him ...
There were boxes every shape and size attic, basement, storage space still, quiet, frozen in time forgotten boxes of shards ...
He was a man with secrets hidden slices of his life long pushed down below the surface covered with pithy ...
You were my first love Gone when I was thirteen On May Day, your day. Your smiling face and the ...
Up in the attic where I slept When I was a boy, a little boy, In through the lattice the ...
Little Miss Brag has much to say To the rich little lady from over the way And the rich little ...
I stayed the night for shelter at a farm Behind the mountains, with a mother and son, Two old-believers. They ...
Old Davis owned a solid mica mountain In Dalton that would someday make his fortune. There'd been some Boston people ...
I didn't make you know how glad I was To have you come and camp here on our land. I ...
A man had just delivered a toad from his wife's armpit. He held it by its legs and spanked it. ...
Long had I loved this "Attic shape," the brede Of marble maidens round this urn divine: But when your golden ...
(After Lorca) Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women. There's a shoulder where death comes to cry. There's a ...
With one consuming roar along the shingle The long wave claws and rakes the pebbles down To where its backwash ...
The Cowboy had a sterling heart, The Maiden was from Boston, The Rancher saw his wealth depart- The Steers were ...
A RETURN TO THE COVER OF THIS BOOK Dear Trout Fishing in America: I met your friend Fritz in Washington ...
What is he buzzing in my ears? "Now that I come to die, Do I view the world as a ...
Who prop, thou ask'st in these bad days, my mind?-- He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men, Saw ...
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, ...
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