Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.
Vo comparando; e mi sovvien l’eterno, E le morte stagioni, e la presente E viva, e’l suon di lei. Cosi tra questa Immensita s’annega il pensier mio: E’l naufragar m’e dolce in questo mare.
If, of your advanced lips, You prepare to alleviate it, An inhabitant of my thoughts The food of a kiss, Does not hasten this tender act, To be soft and not to be not? Because I lived to await you, And my heart was only your steps.
The friendly cow all red and white, I love with all my heart: She gives me cream with all her might, To eat with apple-tart. She wanders lowing here and there, And yet she cannot stray, All in the pleasant open air, The pleasant light of day; And blown by all the winds that pass […]
Admirer as I think I am Of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot, now I see them, say I missed one terribly all day. Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a […]
The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster, Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, […]
In placid hours well-pleased we dream Of many a brave unbodied scheme. But form to lend, pulsed life create, What unlike things must meet and mate: A flame to melt—a wind to freeze; Sad patience—joyous energies; Humility—yet pride and scorn; Instinct and study; love and hate; Audacity—reverence. These must mate, And fuse with Jacob’s mystic […]
I have a house where I go When there’s too many people, I have a house where I go Where no one can be; I have a house where I go, Where nobody ever says “No”; Where no one says anything- so There is no one but me.
Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune–without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I’ve heard it in the chillest land, And on […]
Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove, The Linnet and Thrush say ” I love and I love!” In the winter they’re silent — the wind is so strong; What it says, I don’t know, but it sings a loud song. But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, And […]