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the poems of Dame Edith Sitwell
Bells Of Gray Crystal Bells of gray crystal Break on each bough-- The swans' breath will mist all The cold airs now. Like tall pagodas Two people go, Trail their long codas Of talk through the snow. Lonely are these And lonely and I .... The clouds, gray Chinese geese Sleek through the sky. |
By The Lake ACROSS the flat and the pastel snow Two people go . . . . 'And do you remember When last we wandered this shore?' . . . 'Ah no! For it is cold-hearted December.' 'Dead, the leaves that like asses's ears hung on the trees When last we wandered and squandered joy here; Now Midas your husband will listen for these Whispers--these tears for joy's bier.' And as they walk, they seem tall pagodas; And all the ropes let down from the cloud Ring the hard cold bell-buds upon the trees--codas Of overtones, ecstasies, grown for love's shroud |
Came the Great Popinjay CAME the great Popinjay Smelling his nosegay: In cages like grots The birds sang gavottes. 'Herodiade's flea Was named sweet Amanda, She danced like a lady From here to Uganda. Oh, what a dance was there! Long-haired, the candle Salome-like tossed her hair To a dance tune by Handel.' . . . Dance they still? Then came Courtier Death, Blew out the candle flame With civet breath. |
| الساعة بإيدك هلق يا سيدي 21:11 (بحسب عمك غرينتش الكبير +3) |
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ما بخفيك.. في قسم لا بأس به من الحقوق محفوظة، بس كمان من شان الحق والباطل في جزء مالنا علاقة فيه ولا محفوظ ولا من يحزنون