And why not death, rather than living torment? To die is to be banish’d from myself, And Silvia is myself: banish’d from her Is self from self, a deadly banishment. What light is light, if Silvia be not seen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by? Unless it be to think that she is by, And feed upon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no mus..
After you have spent all the money modistes and manicures and mannikins will take for fixing you over into a thing the people on the streets call proud and beautiful,After the shops and fingers have worn out all they have and know and can hope to have and know for the sake of making you what the people on the streets call proud and beautiful,After there is absolutely nothing m..
I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, i..
The rising moon has hid the stars;Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between. And silver white the river gleams,As if Diana, in her dreams Had dropt her silver bow Upon the meadows low. On such a tranquil night as this,She woke Endymion with a kiss, When, sleeping in the grove, He dreamed not of her love. Like Dian's kiss, unasked,..
Come while the afternoon of May Is sweet with many a lilac-spray, Come while the sparrows chirping fare From branch to branch across the square. Come like the dawn and bring to me The fresh winds of an open sea, Come like the stars of night and bear All consolation in thine hair. Bring me release from ancient pain, Bring me the hopes of joy found vain, Bring me thy sweetness of..
Sometimes the sky's too bright,Or has too many clouds or birds,And far away's too sharp a sunTo nourish thinking of him.Why is my hand too bluntTo cut in front of meMy horrid images for me,Of over-fruitful smiles,The weightless touching of the lipI wish to knowI cannot lift, but can,The creature with the angel's faceWho tells me hurt,And sees my body goDown into misery?No stop..
Normal 0 false false false EN-US JA X-NONE “If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers…” -- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
in time of daffodils (who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why, remember how in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so (forgetting seem) in time of roses (who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if, remember yes in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek (forgetting find) and in a mys..
How good to lie a little while And look up through the tree! The Sky is like a kind big smile Bent sweetly over me. The Sunshine flickers through the lace Of leaves above my head, And kisses me upon the face Like Mother, before bed. The Wind comes stealing o'er the grass To whisper pretty things; And though I cannot see him pass, I feel his careful wings. So many gentle Friend..
