Pas (Manuel Bandeira Poems)
I'm leaving for PasargadaThere, I am the king's friendHave the woman I wantIn the bed that I chooseI'm leaving for ...
I'm leaving for PasargadaThere, I am the king's friendHave the woman I wantIn the bed that I chooseI'm leaving for ...
The evenfall, so slow on hills, hath shotFar down into the valley's cold extreme,Untimely midnight; spire and roof and streamLike ...
THE PARTING HOUR.Minutely trace man's life; year after year,Through all his days let all his deeds appear,And then though some ...
In which calm home of happy life and loveLigged our Lord Buddha, knowing not of woe,Nor want, nor pain, nor ...
Part IVisions in the SmokeRest, and be thankful! On the verge Of the tall cliff rugged and grey,But whose granite ...
But in her Temple's last recess inclos'd, On Dulness' lap th' Anointed head repos'd. Him close she curtains round with ...
At Bethlehem upon the hill, The day was done, the night was nigh,The dusk was deep and had its will,The ...
In the market of Clare, so cheery the glareOf the shops and the booths of the tradespeople there;That I take ...
Dame Charity one day was tiredWith nursing of her children three,-So might you beIf you had nursed and nursed so ...
Here in Samarcand they offer emeralds,Pure as frozen drops of sea-water,Rubies, pale as dew-ponds stained with slaughter,Where the fairies fought ...
White, glittering sunlight fills the market square, Spotted and sprigged with shadows. Double rows Of bartering booths spread out their ...
WITH a bridegroom's joyous bearing, Mounts Sir Curt his noble beast, To his mistress' home repairing, There to hold his ...
The cold in the air reminds me of the country fair the candied apple, the hot burnt sausage sub the ...
The Ekka institution bares us all, though call it Exhibition, Royal Queensland Show, it's that time of year when you ...
The only thing I miss about Los Angeles is the Hollywood Freeway at midnight, windows down and radio blaring bearing ...
THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by little green trees that grew too close together. The creek was ...
ANDROMACHE, I think of you! The stream, The poor, sad mirror where in bygone days Shone all the majesty of ...
BENEATH the flat and paper sky The sun, a demon's eye, Glowed through the air, that mask of glass; All ...
Ah, but the City of Pain: how strange its streets are: the false silence of sound drowning sound, and there--proud, ...
That some day, emerging at last from the terrifying vision I may burst into jubilant praise to assenting angels! That ...
Mondays, way before dawn, before even the first hint of blue in the windows, we'd hear it start, off the ...
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