Excerpts from eight poems by eight poets mixed.
The
wind blows with the great desert's cold.
The eastward-flowing water is immense,
All the ten thousand things billow.
The white sun's passing brightness fades,
Floating clouds seem to have no end.
Swallows and sparrows nest in the wutong tree,
The eastward-flowing water is immense,
All the ten thousand things billow.
The white sun's passing brightness fades,
Floating clouds seem to have no end.
Swallows and sparrows nest in the wutong tree,
All
things become islands before my senses,
which
accept them as a matter of course: a murmur of silence.
All
things in this darkness. I can know all of them,
just
as I know that blood flows in my veins.
The
plain is a great flowing of water through plants,
a
supper of all things. Each plant, and each stone,
lives
motionlessly. I hear my food feeding my veins
with
each living thing that this plain provides.
Swims
in him swallowed dolphins without fear,
and
feel no sides, as if his vast wound were
some
inland sea, and ever as he went
he
spouted rivers up, as if he meant
to
join our seas, with seas above the firmament.
The
flesh is sad, alas! and all the books are read.
- Flight, only flight! I feel that birds are wild to tread
The
floor of unknown foam, and to attain the skies!
Another day. I follow another path,
Enter the leafing woodland, visit the spring
Or the rocks where the roses bloom
Or search from a look-out, but nowhere
Enter the leafing woodland, visit the spring
Or the rocks where the roses bloom
Or search from a look-out, but nowhere
Love
are you to be seen in the light of day
I
have seen music, heard
Grave and windless bells; mine air
Hath verities of vernal leaf and bird.
Grave and windless bells; mine air
Hath verities of vernal leaf and bird.
Ah,
let this fade: it doth and must; nor grieve,
Dream ever, though; she ever young and fair.
Dream ever, though; she ever young and fair.
I
have committed the worst sin of all
That a man can commit. I have not been
Happy. Let the glaciers of oblivion
Drag me and mercilessly let me fall.
My parents bred and bore me for a higher
Faith in the human game of nights and days;
For earth, for air, for water, and for fire.
I let them down. I wasn’t happy.
That a man can commit. I have not been
Happy. Let the glaciers of oblivion
Drag me and mercilessly let me fall.
My parents bred and bore me for a higher
Faith in the human game of nights and days;
For earth, for air, for water, and for fire.
I let them down. I wasn’t happy.
Yes,
tid. There's where. First. We pass through grass behush the bush to.
Whish! A gull. Gulls. Far calls. Coming, far! End here. Us then.
Finn, again! Take. Bussoftlhee, mememormee! Till thousendsthee.
Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a last a loved a long
the—riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of
bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth
Castle and Environs.
