«All of the shapes of the soul seemed somehow lost. / Sad and bored, I lay in the grass. Above me tossed / The beautiful flesh of a flower I could touch / Beside which a small guard, a cricket, stood watch. Opening my book in its heavy old age / I discovered a flower drawn on the first page....»
«Black woods behind the old house, / In front a sloping field of oats; / Above a cloud curves in soft sky / Like a silver ball; centered / Against the cloud, beating with / Severe, painful clarity. / The wing of a wounded swan; / Below on the old wooden balcony / A young man with whit...»
«A bouquet of thistles! Is that possible? / Brought in, set on the table like flowers / And look! Fire, confusion, / A scarlet dance of flame; / Stars, glittering with sharp needles. / Flare like supernatural lanterns / Lighting the fury of Creation, / The flames of an endless battle. /...»
«Florence was my stepmother of violence. / So I chose to lie in this tomb at Ravenna. / Passer-by, do not speak of treason, / Let death seal up the city with silence. Time raised this white monument here / Over which the dove coos, quiet, sweet bird / Who seeks to sing me to rest, but I dr...»