lundi 19 octobre 2015

will there really be a morning?



















Will there really be a « morning » ?
Is there such a thing as « Day » ?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they ?
Has it feet like Water lilies ?
Has it feathers like a bird ?
It is brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard ?
Oh some Scholar ! Oh some Sailor !
Oh some Wise Man from the skies !
Please to tell a litlle pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies !
(148)

dimanche 13 septembre 2015

an ignorance a sunset



An ignorance a Sunset
Confer opon the Eye –
Of Territory – Color –
Circumference – Decay –
It’s Amber Revelation
Exhilirate – Debase –
Omnipotence’ inspection
Of Our inferior face –
And when the solemn features
Confirm – in Victory –
We start – as if detected
In Immortality (669)

                  

vendredi 13 mars 2015

this is the land the sunset washes


This is the land the sunset washes,
Theses are the banks of the Yellow sea;
Where it rose, or whither it rushes,
These are the western mystery!
Night after night her purple traffic
Strews the landing with opal bales
Merchantmen poise upon horizons,
Dip, and vanish like orioles 
(297)


dimanche 11 janvier 2015

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted



















One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted
   
One need not be a House -   
The Brain has Corridors - surpassing   
Material Place.   
 
Far safer, of a midnight meeting            
External Ghost   
Than it's interior confronting - 
That cooler Host -   
 
Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,   
The Stones a'chase -           
Than unarmed, one’s a'self encounter -  
In lonesome Place -   
 
Ourself behinf ourself, concealed -   
Should startle most -   
Assassin hid in our Apartement           
Be Horror’s least -   
 
The Body - borrows a Revolver -   
He bolts the Door -   
O’erlooking a superior spectre -  
Or More
(407)

vendredi 7 novembre 2014

to lose / wild nights



To lose – if One can find again –
To miss – if One shall meet –
The Burglar cannot rob – then –
The Broker cannot cheat.
So build the hillocks gaily –
Thou little spade of mine
Leaving nooks for Daisy
And for Columbine –
You and I the secret
Of the Crocus know –
Let us chant it softly –
« There is no more snow » !  
(30)


Wild nights – Wild nights !
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury !
Futile – the winds –
To a Heart in port –
Done with the Compass –
Done with the Chart !
Rowing in Eden –
Ah – the Sea !
Might I but moor – tonight –
In thee ! 
(269)

samedi 1 novembre 2014

l'enterrement de Jean Anouilh

 
Le chien suivait l'enterrement du maître.
Il pensait aux caresses ;
Et il pensait aux coups.
Les caresses étaient plus fortes...
Dans le cortège, on s'indignait beaucoup.
On excusait la veuve — elle était comme morte.
On pardonnait à la maîtresse
(Elle était morte aussi).