Senlin: A Biography Pt 02: His Futile Preoccupatio (Conrad Potter Aiken Poems)
Part 02: His Futile Preoccupations - 01I am a house, says Senlin, locked and darkened, Sealed from the sun with ...
Part 02: His Futile Preoccupations - 01I am a house, says Senlin, locked and darkened, Sealed from the sun with ...
She rose in moonlight, and stood, confronting sea, With her bare arms uplifted, And lifted her voice in the silence ...
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he seesThe soft blue starlight through the one small window,The moon above black ...
Over the darkened city, the city of towers,The city of a thousand gates,Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the huddled towers,Over ...
Over the darkened city, the city of towers,The city of a thousand gates,Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the huddled towers,Over ...
You read-what is it, then that you are reading?What music moves so silently in your mind?Your bright hand turns the ...
You see that porcelain ranged there in the window-Platters and soup-plates done with pale pink rosebuds,And tiny violets, and wreaths ...
Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towersThe golden lights go out . . .The yellow windows darken, the shades ...
IDry leaves, soldier, dry leaves, dead leaves;voices of leaves on the wind that bears them to destruction,impassioned prayer, impassioned ...
Part 03: His Cloudy Destiny - 01Senlin sat before us and we heard him. He smoked his pipe before us ...
More towers must yet be built-more towers destroyed-Great rocks hoisted in air;And he must seek his bread in high pale ...
'Number four-the girl who died on the table-The girl with golden hair-'The purpling body lies on the polished marble.We open ...
Well,-it was two days after my husband died-Two days! And the earth still raw above him.And I was sweeping the ...
The house in Broad Street, red brick, with nine rooms the weedgrown graveyard with its rows of tombs the jail ...
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence.You say (but use no words) 'this night is passingAs other nights ...
Red is the color of blood, and I will seek it: I have sought it in the grass. It is ...
Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its towerTicks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour:At the deep sudden ...
He, in the room above, grown old and tired; She, in the room below, his floor her ceiling, Pursue their ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glaresWith purple lights in the canyoned street.The fiery sign on the dark ...
Goya drew a pig on a wall. The five-year-old hairdresser's son Saw, graved on a silver tray, The lion; and ...
Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops,Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass.A flock of pigeons rises ...
The lamp-lit page is turned, the dream forgotten; The music changes tone, you wake, remember Deep worlds you lived before, ...
The lamplit page is turned, the dream forgotten;The music changes tone, you wake, rememberDeep worlds you lived before,-deep worlds hereafterOf ...
The days, the nights, flow one by one above us,The hours go silently over our lifted faces,We are like dreamers ...
In this glass palace are flowers in golden baskets.In that grim brownstone castle are silver caskets.The caskets watch and wait, ...
One, where the pale sea foamed at the yellow sand,With wave upon slowly shattering wave,Turned to the city of towers ...
One, where the pale sea foamed at the yellow sand,With wave upon slowly shattering wave,Turned to the city of towers ...
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