Oh Me! O Life!

- Walt Whitman
O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish,
O fmyself foever reproaching myself,(for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean;
of the strugge ever renew'd,
OF the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds
I see around me,
Of the empy and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring - What goood amid these,
O me, O life?
(Answer) That you are here - that life exists and identity,
Thaat the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
As Adam Early in the Morning - Walt Whitman
As Adam early in the morning,
Walking forth from the bower refresh'd with sleep,
Behold me where I pass, hear my voice, approach,
Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass,
Be not afraid of my body.
The Last Invocation - Walt Whitman
At the last, tenderly,
From the walls of the powerful fortress'd house,
From the clasp of the knitted locks,
from the keep of the well-closed doors,
Let me be wafted.
let me glide noiselessly forth;
With the key of softness unlock the locks - with a whisper,
Set open the doors O soul.
Tenderly - be not impatient,
(Strong is hour hold O mortal flesh,
Strong is your hold O love.)
Wild Nights - Emily Dickinson
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!
The Sorrow of Love - William Butler Yeats
The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.
And
And
And
And

then you came with those red mournful lips,

with you came the whole of the world's tears,
all the trouble of her labouring ships,
all the trouble of her myriad years.

And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,

The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,
And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves,
Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.
Landscape - Garcia Lorca
The field of olive trees
opens and folds like a fan.
Above the olive grove
is a sunken sky
and a dark rain of cold bright stars.
Reeds and half-light tremble
on the banks of the river.
The gray air curls.
The olive trees are charged with shouts.
A flock of captive birds move their long, long tails
in the gloom.
Dance -Garcia Lorca

In the night of the garden

dressed in white
dance six gypsy girls.
In the night of the garden
they write on charred shadows
with teeth of mother of pearl.
And in the night of the garden,
with paper roses and jasmine crowns,
they touch the sky with purple
as their shadows grow long.
Heavenly Grass - Tennessee Williams
My feet took a walk
In heavenly grass
All day while the sky shone clear as glass.
My feet took a walk
In heavenly grass,
All night while the lonesome stars rolled past.
Then my feet come down to walk on earth
And my mother cried
When she give me birth.
Now my feet walk far
And my feet walk fast,
But they still got an itch for heavenly grass.

My Papa's Waltz - Theodore Roethke

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death;
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance

Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle,
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
The Starry Night - Anne Sexton
(after Vincent Van Gogh)
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.
It moves. They are all alive.
Even the mood bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.
Into that rushing beast of the night,
sucked up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.

from Chamber Music by James Joyce

IX. Winds of May
Winds of May, that dance on the sea,
Dancing a ringaround in glee

From furrow to furrow, while overhead

The foam flies up to be garlanded
In silvery arches spanning the air,
Saw you my true love anywhere?
Welladay! Welladay!
For the winds of May!
Love is unhappy when love is away!
XXXII. Rain has fallen
Rain has fallen all the day
O come among the laden trees.
The leaves lie thick upon the way
Of memories.
Straying a little by the way
Of memories shall we depart.
Come, my beloved, where I may
Speak to your heart.
In Memoriam - Lorca
Sweet poplar, you have turned gold.
Yesterday you were green,
a green crazy with glorious birds.
Today you are downcast under the August sky
as I am beneath the sky of my red spirit.
My tender heart will catch
The captive fragrance of your trunk.
Rough grandfather of the field!
You and I, we have both turned gold.

Orphanage - Lorca
And the poor stars,
Those that have no light,
are abandoned on a blurry blue.
What pain, what suffering!
Bell - Lorca

Up in the yellow tower

tolls a bell.
Over the yellow wind
it opens its knell.
Up in the yellow tower
the bell is ceasing.
The wind with the dust
is shaping prows of silver.
Arbols (Trees) - Lorca
Trees!
Were you once arrows
fallen from blue?
What terrible warriors
cast you down? The stars?
Your music springs from the soul of birds,
from the eyes of God,
from perfect passion.
Trees!
Will your tough roots know
my heart in the soil?
Leave Me Here Crying (Ah!) - Lorca
The scream leaves on the wind
Its shadow of cypress.
Leave me here in these fields,
Leave me here crying.
All has broken in the world,
Nothing remains but silence.
Leave me here in these fields,
Leave me here crying.
Bitten by bonfires,
Lightless horizons,
Leave me, I tell you,
In these fields here crying.

And After That - Lorca

The labyrinths that time creates disappear.
(Only the desert remains.)
The heart, fount of desire, disappears.
(Only the desert remains.)
The illusion of dawn and kisses disappear.
(Only the desert, the undulating desert, remains here.)