«Oh, if I’ve known, when, in dress of whiteness, / Muse was just coming to my living place, / That to the lyre, stoned in the timeless, / My hands’ warm flesh will be forever pressed. Oh, if I’ve known, when was flying fierce / And playful tempest of my love, the last, / That to the ...»
«Oh, Lord, I can forgive what’s done to me by them, / But better, a wild hawk, I would tear a lamb, / Or, a snake — sting the sleeping in the grasses, / Than to be man, and see what people masses / Do on the earth, and through the noxious shame / To not dare up my eyes to heavens’ pur...»
«One goes in straightforward ways, / One in a circle roams: / Waits for a girl of his gone days, / Or for returning home. But I do go — and woe is there — / By a way nor straight, nor broad, / But into never and nowhere, / Like trains — off the railroad.»
«On the whitest porch of Eden, / Looking back, he cried, “I wait!” / He bequeathed to me life written / For a pauper and a saint. And when heavens are transparent, / Sees, while ringing with his wings, / How I share my meal barren / With a bagger who it needs. And when, as if after ...»