Archives - April 2008

In my room, the world is beyond my understanding;
But when I walk I see that it consists of three or four hills and a cloud.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.

The Grizzly Bear is huge and wild;
He has devoured the infant child.
The infant child is not aware
It has been eaten by a bear.

What's the earth
With all its art, verse, music, worth ---
Compared with love, found, gained, and kept?

deeds cannot dream what dreams can do
time is a tree (this life one leaf)
but love is the sky and i am for you
just so long and long enough

Stop and consider! Life is but a day;
A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way
From a tree's summit.

When trouble haunts me, need I sigh?
No, rather smile away despair;

What is Spring? ---
Growth in everything.

Dreams --- are well --- but Waking's better,
If One wake at morn ---
If One wake at Midnight --- better ---
Dreaming --- of the Dawn ---

For solitude sometimes is best society,
And short retirement urges sweet return.

Folded eyes see brighter colours than the open ever do.

Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

You changed the topography.
Where valleys were,
there are now mountains.
Where deserts were,
there now are seas.

When Love's delirium haunts the glowing mind,
Limping Decorum lingers far behind.

Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls.
For, thus friends absent speak.

He sang of love, with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the song, --- the song for me!

Thought is a man in his wholeness wholly attending.

Words are found responsible
all you can do is choose them
or choose
to remain silent.

Behold, I do not give lectures or a little charity,
When I give I give myself.

I must create a system or be enslaved by another man's;
I will not reason and compare: my business is to create.

There is no going back,
For standing still means death, and life is moving on,
Moving on towards death. But sometimes standing still is also life.

There is no news in fear
but in the end it's fear
that drowns you.

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

Each body has its art, its precious prescribed
Pose, that even in passion's droll contortions, waltzes,
Or push of pain or when a grief has stabbed,
Or hatred hacked is its, and nothing else's.

I love all waste
And solitary places; where we taste
The pleasure of believing what we see
Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.

I have remained resentful to this day
When any but myself presumed to say
That there was anything I couldn't be.

Sir, I admit your general rule,
That every poet is a fool,
But you yourself may serve to show it,
That every fool is not a poet.

There lives more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds.

Sweet love of youth, forgive if I forget thee
While the World's tide is bearing me along:
Sterner desires and darker hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure but cannot do thee wrong.

One of the sublimest things in the world is plain truth.