City Without A Name (Czeslaw Milosz Poems)
1 Who will honor the city without a name If so many are dead and others pan gold Or sell ...
1 Who will honor the city without a name If so many are dead and others pan gold Or sell ...
In the Santa Clara Valley, far away and far away, Cool-breathed waters dip and dally, linger towards another day- Far ...
We first saw fire on the tragic slopes Where the flood-tide of France's early gain, Big with wrecked promise and ...
IAn English heart, my commandant,A soldier's eye you have, awakeTo right and left; with looks askantOn bulwarks not of adamant,Where ...
There's a country wild and weary, and a scorching sun looks downOn the thirsty cattle ranges and a queer old ...
Did you ever stand on the ledges,On the brink of the great plateauAnd look from their jagged edgesOn the country ...
Dark purple, chased with sudden gloom and glory, Like waves in wild unrest,Low-wooded billows and steep summits hoary, ...
What husks of last year's winter close you in, To-morrow's world-what dead, what wrinkled skin Of ancient parchments, laws, beliefs! ...
Heavy with haze that merges and melts free Into the measureless depth on either hand, The ...
He reads my latest attempt at a poem and is silent for a long time, until it feels like that ...
It seldom snowed in Camp they said, on the mountains, yes, and in the Styx, aka zone six. That's where ...
It seldom snowed they said, perhaps they're right although seldom was never in that endless summer which tightened a fiery ...
A crystalline awakening on the plateau, the crisp air as brittle as new celery snaps with expectancy. The cold clings ...
WITNESS FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA PEACE In San Francisco around Easter time last year, they had a trout fishing ...
We first saw fire on the tragic slopes Where the flood-tide of France's early gain, Big with wrecked promise and ...
He was an old prospector with a vision bleared and dim. He asked me for a grubstake, and the same ...
Light up your pipe again, old chum, and sit awhile with me; I've got to watch the bannock bake -- ...
WHEN my young lady has grown great and staid, And in long raiment wondrously arrayed, She may take pleasure with ...
I I dream of journeys repeatedly: Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel Of driving alone, without ...
The drought is down on field and flock, The river-bed is dry; And we must shift the starving stock Before ...
--The Carpathian Frontier, October, 1968 --for my brother Once, in a foreign country, I was suddenly ill. I was driving ...
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