Gacela of the Dead Child (Federico Garcia Lorca Poem)
Each afternoon in Granada, each afternoon, a child dies. Each afternoon the water sits down and chats with its companions. ...
Each afternoon in Granada, each afternoon, a child dies. Each afternoon the water sits down and chats with its companions. ...
Robin Hood's mother, these twelve years now, Has been gone from her earthly home; And Robin has paid, he scarce ...
i take my property with me says the snail slow-moving (yes) but packed with sublime thought the house upon its ...
Those cattle smaller than a Bee That herd upon the eye -- Whose tillage is the passing Crumb -- Those ...
The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady's name In Silver Chronicle. (Emily Dickinson)
The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury 'twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me In ...
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb What merit have the Tune No Breakfast if it guaranty The Rose ...
So much Summer Me for showing Illegitimate -- Would a Smile's minute bestowing Too exorbitant To the Lady With the ...
Most she touched me by her muteness -- Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure ...
He is alive, this morning -- He is alive -- and awake -- Birds are resuming for Him -- Blossoms ...
As the Starved Maelstrom laps the Navies As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valleys As the Tiger ...
A little bread -- a crust -- a crumb -- A little trust -- a demijohn -- Can keep the ...
'Tis not that Dying hurts us so -- 'Tis Living -- hurts us more -- But Dying -- is a ...
If I shouldn't be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb. If I ...
God gave a Loaf to every Bird -- But just a Crumb -- to Me -- I dare not eat ...
I had been hungry, all the Years -- My Noon had Come -- to dine -- I trembling drew the ...
That after Horror -- that 'twas us -- That passed the mouldering Pier -- Just as the Granite Crumb let ...
A Bird came down the Walk -- He did not know I saw -- He bit an Angleworm in halves ...
"Hope" is the thing with feathers -- That perches in the soul -- And sings the tune without the words ...
(co-written by Sharon Robinson) Baby, I've been waiting, I've been waiting night and day. I didn't see the time, I ...
That bright chimeric beast Conceived yet never born, Save in the poet's breast, The white-flanked unicorn, Never may be shaken ...
Most truly honoured, and as truly dear, If worth in me or ought I do appear, Who can of right ...
ON WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON IN ROME. [``Now was come about Holy-Cross Day, ...
At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee, waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb that was going to be ...
Good-bye, good-bye to Summer! For Summer's nearly done; The garden smiling faintly, Cool breezes in the sun; Our Thrushes now ...
Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow, Next year and when I'm fifty; still good-by. This is the leave ...
Pierre Bonnard would enter the museum with a tube of paint in his pocket and a sable brush. Then violating ...
Shoestring Press, Nottingham, 2000. VIII Final concept harbour which has broken there where it crumpled our faces there where ikons ...
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