At a Certain Age (Czeslaw Milosz Poems)
We wanted to confess our sins but there were no takers. White clouds refused to accept them, and the wind ...
We wanted to confess our sins but there were no takers. White clouds refused to accept them, and the wind ...
Horses and men are just alike. There was my stallion, Billy Lee, Black as a cat and trim as a ...
Dürer would have seen a reason for living in a town like this, with eight stranded whales to look at; ...
Strong and slippery, built for the midnight grass-party confronted by four cats, he sleeps his time away-- the detached first ...
There comes a time in every man's life when he thinks: I have never had a single original thought in ...
At Quattro Gatti, she is the poet-in-residence: In Barcelona, Piccasso started here, painting A humble sketch of a picket-white fence. ...
Central Park: Water Fight, Flight, and Tears June 1 2001, N.Y. C., U.S.A. (1) From the five boroughs of N.Y.C., ...
When thin-strewn memory I look through, I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, ...
My father used to say, "Superior people never make long visits, have to be shown Longfellow's grave nor the glass ...
I thought he was dumb, said he was dumb, Yet I've heard him cry. First faint scream, Out of life's ...
People sit numbly at the counter waiting for breakfast or service. Today it's Hartford, Connecticut more than twenty-five years after ...
Hungry and cold, I stood in a doorway on Delancey Street in 1946 as the rain came down. The worst ...
When Nellie, my old pussy cat, was still in her prime, she would sit behind me as I wrote, and ...
This harpie with dry red curls talked openly of her husband, his impotence, his death, the death of her lover, ...
Since I don't know who will be reading this or even if it will be read, I must invent someone ...
The stone says "Coors" The gay carpet says "Camels" Spears of dried grass The little sticks the children gathered The ...
from an officer's diary during the last war I The sour daylight cracks through my sleep-caked lids. "Stephan! Stephan!" The ...
A chant for a children's pantomime dance, suggested by a picture painted by George Mather Richards. I saw a proud, ...
(What Grandpa told the Children) The moon? It is a griffin's egg, Hatching to-morrow night. And how the little boys ...
I. A NEGRO SERMON:-SIMON LEGREE (To be read in your own variety of negro dialect.) Legree's big house was white ...
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