«Fine threads paint the sky / Wanting to overtake the day, / And night has tipped / Into my soul, into the lakes. I want to scream something / Into its dark, open jaws, / To bring my ear to it, / Press up against it with my tremulous heart. You walk holding your breath, / The fields a...»
«My thoughts chant: “we’re tired... we’re freezing...” / I sleep. But asleep my spirit is restless. / Racing through snowy deserts / In a dreadful, distant land. My spirit is with you through the rocking train. / My thoughts are chanting on and on, / My spirit’s in Russia, and An...»
«Seafarers of ancient pedigree, / enamored of distant horizons, / quaffing wine in dusky ports of call, / pert foreign lasses in their arms; / coxcombs of the eighteen-thirties, / modeling themselves on d'Orsay and Brummel, / bringing to the dandy's pose / all the naïveté of an adoles...»
«Upon green hills wild droves of horses blow / The golden bloom off of the days that go. From the high hillocks to the blue-ing bay / Falls the sheer pitch of heavy manes that sway. They toss their heads above the still lagoon / Caught with a silver bridle by the moon. Snorting in fear of...»