Where shall the word be found, where will the wordResound? Not here, there is not enough silence...
The Pekes and the Pollicles, everyone knows, Are proud and implacable, passionate foes;It is always the same, wherever one goes.And the Pugs and the Poms, although most people saythat they do not like...
Sovegna vos.Here are the years that walk between, bearingAway the fiddles and the flutes, restoringOne who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearingWhite light folded, sheathed about her, fo...
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought i...
Reilly: The human condition...they may remember the vision they have had, but they cease to regret it, maintain themselves by the common routine, learn to avoid excessive expectation, Become tolerant...
I sat upon the shore Fishing, with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order? London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina...
Every street lamp that I passBeats like a fatalistic drum,And through the spaces of the darkMidnight shakes the memoryAs a madman shakes a dead geranium.
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity, Where...
Ash on an old man's sleeve,Is all the ash the burnt roses leave.Dust in the air suspendedMarks the place where a story ended,Dust in breathed was a house-The wall, the wainscot and the mouse.The death...
Poetry may make us from time to time a little more aware of the deeper, unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasi...
That's not what I meant at all... that's not it at all.
There was a doorAnd I could not open it. I could not touch the handle.Why could I not walk out of my prison?What is hell? Hell is oneself,Hell is alone, the other figures in itMerely projections. Ther...
The eyes are not hereThere are no eyes hereIn this valley of dying starsIn this hollow valleyThis broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
Let us go then, you and I,When the evening is spread out against the sky
I think we are in rats’ alley Where the dead men lost their bones.
I that was near your heart was removed therefrom
I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.
I do not know much about gods;but I think that the river is a strong brown god-sullen, untamed and intractable . . .
For our own past is covered by the currents of action,But the torment of others remains an experienceUnqualified, unworn by subsequent attrition.People change, and smile: but the agony abides.
Because I know that time is time and place is always and only place and what is actual is actual only for one time and only for one place, I rejoice that things are as they are and I renounce the bles...