Squatter’s Children (Elizabeth Bishop Poems)
On the unbreathing sides of hills they play, a specklike girl and boy, alone, but near a specklike house. The ...
On the unbreathing sides of hills they play, a specklike girl and boy, alone, but near a specklike house. The ...
I A washing hangs upon the line, but it's not mine. None of the things that I can see belong ...
From Brooklyn, over the Brooklyn Bridge, on this fine morning, please come flying. In a cloud of fiery pale chemicals, ...
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams hurry too rapidly down to the sea, and the pressure of ...
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets ...
Inheritance. I wasn't raised to call myself Black, Indian, Chinese-- "You're human," said my parents. That was all. By the ...
What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai? You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me; You smile a ...
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence. You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing As ...
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon ...
Of what she said to me that night-no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of ...
Two lovers, here at the corner, by the steeple, Two lovers blow together like music blowing: And the crowd dissolves ...
1 Senlin sat before us and we heard him. He smoked his pipe before us and we saw him. Was ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
Down on the shore, on the sunny shore! Where the salt smell cheers the land; Where the tide moves bright ...
I heard the dogs howl in the moonlight night; I went to the window to see the sight; All the ...
Once upon a time, in the land of Hush-A-Bye, Around about the wondrous days of yore, They came across a ...
I The bitterness. the misery, the wretchedness of childhood Put me out of love with God. I can't believe in ...
Long ago in a poultry yard One dull November morn, Beneath a motherly soft wing A little goose was born. ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of "I Thought about ...
Yad Mordechai. Those who fell here still look out the windows like sick children who are not allowed outside to ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great ...
Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy HANDS bunched on layered hips Where bones idle under years of fatback And lima ...
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