XXIX. (Khoshal Khan Khattak Poems)
What numbers of boats in this river's depths have sunk and disappeared,A single plank of which, even shouldst thou search, ...
What numbers of boats in this river's depths have sunk and disappeared,A single plank of which, even shouldst thou search, ...
The flowers I planted the length of my roadHave lasted a long time despite winds and coldspellsAlready blazing middays are ...
I.Spawn of FantasiesSilting the appraisablePig Cupid his rosy snoutRooting erotic garbage"Once upon a time"Pulls a weed white star-toppedAmong wild oats sown in mucous-membraneI would an eye in a Bengal ...
They have spent theircontent of simpering,holding their lips thisand that way, windingthe lines betweentheir brows. Old folksallow their bellies to ...
Who knows of a better world should step forward.Alone, no longer out of bravery, not wiping away this saliva,this saliva ...
I.Mastro Spaghi era il boia--della citta' d'Urbino.Contava cinquant'anni;--era smilzo e piccino;Era calvo; il suo cranio,--da lontano, parevaUna palla di vetro.--Sul ...
LEMMINKAINEN'S RESTORATION.Lemminkainen's aged motherAnxious roams about the islands,Anxious wonders in her chambers,What the fate of Lemminkainen,Why her son so long ...
(AD ALBERTO BARBAVARA)L'Arte morra'!... o La splendidaArte che amiamo, o Alberto,Morra', come ingannevoleMiraggio del deserto!...Oh! Tu non sai l'angosciaChe in ...
IMPLORAZIONEEstate, Estate mia, non declinare!Fa che prima nel petto il cor mi scoppicome pomo granato a troppo ardore.Estate, Estate, indugia ...
A crystallization of color spreads from the upper regions of the dark sky towards the trembling nipples of the waves. ...
THE Room is getting cold, one gas-light burns And the fire is now a monotonous red glow ; The old ...
SOMEDAY beneath some hard Capricious star- Spreading its light a little Over far, We'll know you for the woman That ...
The fat lady came out first, tearing out roots and moistening drumskins. The fat lady who turns dying octopuses inside ...
The men kept to themselves: they were waiting for the swiftness of the last cyclists. The women kept to themselves: ...
Talking with my beloved in New York I stood at the outdoor public telephone in Mexican sunlight, in my purple ...
I love to lick English the way I licked the hard round licorice sticks the Belgian nuns gave me for ...
The cypress stood up like a church That night we felt our love would hold, And saintly moonlight seemed to ...
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