«Bare arms, and eyes intent, / Ice-blue, they pull you in, / And like a tan, the pungent scent / Of tar befits your skin. Your collar’s opened wide, / Your jacket shimmers blue. / The fisherwomen sigh / And blush on seeing you. Even the girl who sells / Anchovies, mouth agape, / S...»
«He loved three things in this world: / Evensong, peacocks of white, / And old tattered maps of America. / He despised it when little kids bawled, / Hated tea with preserves, and disliked / Women acting hysterical. / ...And I was his wife.»
«No letter came for me today: / Did he forget or go away thereafter, / The spring is like a trill of silver laughter / The boats are bobbing in the bay. / No letter came for me today… He was with me not very long ago, / So much in love, so gentle and all mine, / But that was still the ...»
«O, do not sigh about me, anxious, / This grief is criminal and vain, / Here, on the grayness of the canvas, / I have emerged so strange and vague. With frenzy smiling in my eyes, / With flailing arms, the pain of fracture, / And I could not be otherwise / Before the bitter hour of raptu...»