Hail, o Mary!
Your pale effigy has blossomed
And your mantled body glows,
O woman, Mary!
In sweet tortures your lap burns,
Then your eye smiles painfully and largely,
O mother, Mary!
Similar Posts
Often I hear your steps
In the small brown gardenThe blueness of your shadow.In the dawning bowerI sat in silence with the wine.A dropp of bloodSank from your templeInto the singing glassHour of unending gloom.From stars a snowy windBlows through the foliage.Any death, the nightThe pale man suffers.Your purple mouthDwells a wound in me.As if I came from the greenFir…
Stillness; as if blind people sank down by autumnal wall,
Golden stillness of autumn, the countenance of the father in the flickering sunAt evening the old village decays in the peace of brown oaks,The red hammering of the smithy, a pounding heart.Stillness; in slow hands the maid hides the hyacinthine foreheadUnder fluttering sunflowers. Fear and silenceOf extinguishing eyes fulfills the dusking room, the halting stepsOf…
O spiritual reunion
Yellow rosesDefoliated by the garden fence,A great pain meltedTo a dark tear,O sister!So still the golden day ends.
A scent of myrrh which roams in the twilight.
Bazaars circle and a golden ray flowsIn old shops queerly and confused.In the dishwater decay glows; and the windEvokes dully the agony of burnt gardens.The possessed pursue golden dreams.By windows dryads rest slender and dulcet.The dream-addicted wander pined over by a wish.Workers surge shimmering through a gate.Steel towers glow upward at the edge of the…
Since I sat in the garden this morning –
Full of thrush calls and trills –I saw my shadow in the grass,Immensely distorted, a fantastical animal,That lay before me like a bad dream.And I left and trembled very much,Meanwhile a fountain sang in the bluenessAnd a bud leapt purpleAnd the animal went alongside.
O the dwelling in the stillness of the dusking garden,
The purple of their broken mouthsMelted in the coolness of the evening.Heart-breaking hour.September ripened the golden pear. Sweetness of incenseAnd the dahlia burns at the old fenceSay! where were we, when we passed by on small black boatIn the evening,The crane passed over. The freezing armsHeld black embraced, and inside blood ran.And around our temples…