The End Of March (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
The great light cage has broken up in the air, freeing, I think, about a million birds whose wild ascending ...
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in ...
Land lies in water; it is shadowed green. Shadows, or are they shallows, at its edges showing the line of ...
The moon in the bureau mirror looks out a million miles (and perhaps with pride, at herself, but she never, ...
water for dance shadows last. walk the paris streets, slow. sweet rain, all their eyes linger within my soul, evening. ...
in the night the deep deep night do i dance where mirror images are lost within i bleed across the ...
As if you actually died in that dream and woke up dead. Shadows of untangling vines tumble toward the ceiling. ...
He thinks her little feet should pass Where dandelions star thickly grass; Her hands should lift in sunlit air Sea-wind ...
When she came out, that white little Russian dancer, With her bright hair, and her eyes, so young, so young, ...
No, I shall not say why it is that I love you- Why do you ask me, save for vanity? ...
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light. The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
'This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
You see that porcelain ranged there in the window- Platters and soup-plates done with pale pink rosebuds, And tiny violets, ...
What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai? You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me; You smile a ...
You read-what is it, then that you are reading? What music moves so silently in your mind? Your bright hand ...
The cigarette-smoke loops and slides above us, Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes; You strike a match and stare ...
'Number four-the girl who died on the table- The girl with golden hair-' The purpling body lies on the polished ...
Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers The golden lights go out . . . The yellow windows darken, ...
The white fog creeps from the cold sea over the city, Over the pale grey tumbled towers,- And settles among ...
Up high black walls, up sombre terraces, Clinging like luminous birds to the sides of cliffs, The yellow lights went ...
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light. The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
I. Moonlight silvers the tops of trees, Moonlight whitens the lilac shadowed wall And through the evening fall, Clearly, as ...
from Senlin: A Biography It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning When the light drips through the shutters ...
I'm glad I am alive, to see and feel The full deliciousness of this bright day, That's like a heart ...
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