FIRST LETTER (Vlanes Poems)
We crossed to the other side, the burgee of the boat ceased flapping and lagged behind like a dead wing. ...
We crossed to the other side, the burgee of the boat ceased flapping and lagged behind like a dead wing. ...
To Jena Woodhouse This way of minutes miserably mixed With their own blinks misunderstood By birds and trees, this eye-born ...
I. You liked your scrolls ? - Here they are. The manuscript of your book ? - Here it is. ...
Desine, Paulle, meum lacrimis urgere sepulcrum: nempe tuas lacrimas litora surda bibent. Propertius, IV.11 Don't cry for me, for only ...
The air heaving like a wounded fish, breathing through its purplish sandy gills, letting in the salty gale, fluttering its ...
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