La Gitana

Related poetry:

1. Seville My Pa and Ma their honeymoon Passed in an Andulasian June, And though produced in Drury Lane, I must have been conceived in Spain. Now having lapsed from fair estate, A coster’s is my sorry fate; Yet on my barrow lo! I wheel The golden harvest of Saville. “Sweet Spanish oranges!” I cry. Ah! People […]...
2. Song of Innisfail They came from a land beyond the sea, And now o’er the western main Set sail, in their good ships, gallantly, From the sunny land of Spain. “Oh, where’s the isle we’ve seen in dreams, Our destined home or grave?” Thus sung they as, by the morning’s beams, They swept the Atlantic wave. And lo, […]...
3. The Dons of Spain The Eagle screams at the beck of trade, so Spain, as the world goes round, Must wrestle the right to live or die from the sons of the land she found; For, as in the days when the buccaneer was abroad on the Spanish Main, The national honour is one thing dear to the hearts […]...
4. How Sweet I Roam'd How sweet I roam’d from field to field, And tasted all the summer’s pride ‘Til the prince of love beheld Who in the sunny beams did glide! He shew’d me lilies for my hair And blushing roses for my brow; He led me through his garden fair, Where all his golden pleasures grow. With sweet […]...
5. Coming Through The Rye Coming thro’ the rye, poor body, Coming thro’ the rye, She draiglet a’ her petticoatie Coming thro’ the rye. O, Jenny’s a’ wat, poor body; Jenny’s seldom dry; She draiglet a’ her petticoatie Coming thro’ the rye. Gin a body meet a body Coming thro’ the rye, Gin a body kiss a body – Need […]...
6. Asking For Roses A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master, With doors that none but the wind ever closes, Its floor all littered with glass and with plaster; It stands in a garden of old-fashioned roses. I pass by that way in the gloaming with Mary; ‘I wonder,’ I say, ‘who the owner of those is.’ ‘Oh, […]...
7. I Love You I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my […]...
8. Will There Be Starlight Will there be starlight Tonight While she gathers Damask And lilac And sweet-scented heathers? And will she find flowers, Or will she find thorns Guarding the petals Of roses unborn? Will there be starlight Tonight While she gathers Seashells And mussels And albatross feathers? And will she find treasure Or will she find pain At […]...
9. The Year of the Rose From the depths of the green garden-closes Where the summer in darkness dozes Till autumn pluck from his hand An hour-glass that holds not a sand; From the maze that a flower-belt encloses To the stones and sea-grass on the strand How red was the reign of the roses Over the rose-crowned land! The year […]...
10. Echoes From the Greek Mythology I – STARLIGHT With two bright eyes, my star, my love, Thou lookest on the stars above: Ah, would that I the heaven might be With a million eyes to look on thee. Plato. II – ROSELEAF A little while the rose, And after that the thorn; An hour of dewy morn, And then the […]...
11. Child and mother O mother-my-love, if you’ll give me your hand, And go where I ask you to wander, I will lead you away to a beautiful land, The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder. We’ll walk in a sweet posie-garden out there, Where moonlight and starlight are streaming, And the flowers and the birds are filling the air […]...
12. Cirque D'Hiver Across the floor flits the mechanical toy, Fit for a king of several centuries back. A little circus horse with real white hair. His eyes are glossy black. He bears a little dancer on his back. She stands upon her toes and turns and turns. A slanting spray of artificial roses Is stitched across her […]...
13. The Lady's Second Song What sort of man is coming To lie between your feet? What matter, we are but women. Wash; make your body sweet; I have cupboards of dried fragrance. I can strew the sheet. The Lord have mercy upon us. He shall love my soul as though Body were not at all, He shall love your […]...
14. Duet 1. Is it the wind of the dawn that I hear In the pine overhead? 2. No; but the voice of the deep as it hollows The cliffs of the land. 1. Is there a voice coming up with the Voice of the deep from the strand, Once coming up with a Song in the […]...
15. This This is what I most want Unpursued, alone To reach beyond the light That I am furthest from. And for you to shine there- No other happiness- And learn, from starlight, What its fire might suggest. A star burns as a star, Light becomes light, Because our murmuring Strengthens us, and warms the night. And […]...
16. Prayers After World War WANDERING oversea dreamer, Hunting and hoarse, Oh daughter and mother, Oh daughter of ashes and mother of blood, Child of the hair let down, and tears, Child of the cross in the south And the star in the north, Keeper of Egypt and Russia and France, Keeper of England and Poland and Spain, Make us […]...
17. The Ivy Crown The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another, from its confinement- Or find a deeper well. Antony and Cleopatra were right; They have shown the way. I love you or I do not live At all. Daffodil time is past. This is summer, summer! The heart […]...
18. Compass Rose I’d buy you a Babushka doll, my heart, And brush your ash-blonde hair until it gleams, Were Russia and our land not laid apart By ocean so much deeper than it seems. I have an oval pin, though glossy lacquer Hand-made in Moscow, after glasnost came, With fine, deft roses on a background blacker Perhaps, […]...
19. Testimony Regarding a Ghost THE ROSES slanted crimson sobs On the night sky hair of the women, And the long light-fingered men Spoke to the dark-haired women, “Nothing lovelier, nothing lovelier.” How could he sit there among us all Guzzling blood into his guts, Goblets, mugs, buckets- Leaning, toppling, laughing With a slobber on his mouth, A smear of […]...
20. Kyrenaikos Lay me where soft Cyrene rambles down In grove and garden to the sapphire sea; Twine yellow roses for the drinker’s crown; Let music reach and fair heads circle me, Watching blue ocean where the white sails steer Fruit-laden forth or with the wares and news Of merchant cities seek our harbors here, Careless how […]...
21. Oh! Arranmore, Loved Arranmore Oh! Arranmore, loved Arranmore, How oft I dream of thee, And of those days when, by thy shore, I wander’d young and free. Full many a path I’ve tried, since then, Through pleasure’s flowery maze, But ne’er could find the bliss again I felt in those sweet days. How blithe upon thy breezy cliffs At […]...
22. Beauty I HAVE seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain: I have seen the lady April bringing the daffodils, Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain. I have heard the song of the blossoms and the old chant of the sea, […]...
23. The Well of All-Healing THERE’S a cure for sorrow in the well at Ballylee Where the scarlet cressets hang over the trembling pool: And joyful winds are blowing from the Land of Youth to me, And the heart of the earth is full. Many and many a sunbright maiden saw the enchanted land With star faces glimmer up from […]...
24. A Song Of Eternity In Time Once, at night, in the manor wood My Love and I long silent stood, Amazed that any heavens could Decree to part us, bitterly repining. My Love, in aimless love and grief, Reached forth and drew aside a leaf That just above us played the thief And stole our starlight that for us was shining. […]...
25. Dream Song 121: Grief is fatiguing. He is out of it Grief is fatiguing. He is out of it, The whole humiliating Human round, Out of this & that. He made a-many hearts go pit-a-pat Who now need never mind his nostril-hair Nor a critical error laid bare. He endured fifty years. He was Randall Jarrell And wrote a-many books & he wrote well. Peace to […]...
26. The Night Cometh Work! for the night is coming; Work! through the morning hours; Work! while the dew is sparkling; Work! ‘mid the springing flowers; Work! while the day grows brighter, Under the glowing sun; Work! for the night is coming, Night, when man’s work is done. Work! for the night is coming; Work! through the sunny noon; […]...
27. By Broad Potomac's Shore 1 BY broad Potomac’s shore-again, old tongue! (Still uttering-still ejaculating-canst never cease this babble?) Again, old heart so gay-again to you, your sense, the full flush spring returning; Again the freshness and the odors-again Virginia’s summer sky, pellucid blue and silver, Again the forenoon purple of the hills, Again the deathless grass, so noiseless, soft […]...
28. The Return They turned him loose; he bowed his head, A felon, bent and grey. His face was even as the Dead, He had no word to say. He sought the home of his old love, To look on her once more; And where her roses breathed above, He cowered beside the door. She sat there in […]...
29. Blue Roses Roses red and roses white Plucked I for my love’s delight. She would none of all my posies Bade me gather her blue roses. Half the world I wandered through, Seeking where such flowers grew. Half the world unto my quest Answered me with laugh and jest. Home I came at wintertide, But my silly […]...
30. Land, Ho! I know ’tis but a loom of land, Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice, I know I cannot hear His voice Upon the shore, nor see Him stand; Yet is it land, ho! land. The land! the land! the lovely land! ‘Far off,’ dost say? Far off-ah, blessиd home! Farewell! farewell! thou […]...
31. Reunited Let us begin, dear love, where we left off; Tie up the broken threads of that old dream; And go on happy as before; and seem Lovers again, though all the world may scoff. Let us forget the graves, which lie between Our parting and our meeting, and the tears That rusted out the goldwork […]...
32. Dionysus I bring ye wine from above, From the vats of the storied sun; For every one of yer love, And life for every one. Ye shall dance on hill and level; Ye shall sing in hollow and height In the festal mystical revel, The rapurous Bacchanal rite! The rocks and trees are yours, And the […]...
33. Credo I cannot find my way: there is no star In all the shrouded heavens anywhere; And there is not a whisper in the air Of any living voice but one so far That I can hear it only as a bar Of lost, imperial music, played when fair And angel fingers wove, and unaware, Dead […]...
34. Portrait Number Five: Against A New York Summer I’d walk her home after work Buying roses and talking of Bechsteins. She was full of soul. Her small room was gorged with heat And there were no windows. She’d take off everything But her pants And take the pins from her hair Throwing them on the floor With a great noise. Like Crete. We […]...
35. LONDON ROSES “ROWSES, Rowses! Penny a bunch!” they tell you Slattern girls in Trafalgar, eager to sell you. Roses, roses, red in the Kensington sun, Holland Road, High Street, Bayswater, see you and smell you Roses of London town, red till the summer is done. Roses, roses, locust and lilac, perfuming West End, East End, wondrously budding […]...
36. Music I tied together A few slender reeds, cut Notches to breathe across and made Such music you stood Shock still and then Followed as I wandered growing Moment by moment Slant-eyes and shaggy, my feet Slamming over the rocks, growing Hard as horn, and there You were behind me, drowning In the music, letting The […]...
37. Evening Song Of Senlin from Senlin: A Biography It is moonlight. Alone in the silence I ascend my stairs once more, While waves, remote in a pale blue starlight, Crash on a white sand shore. It is moonlight. The garden is silent. I stand in my room alone. Across my wall, from the far-off moon, A rain of fire […]...
38. The wind (THE TALE) Cometh the Wind from the garden, fragrant and full of sweet singing Under my tree where I sit cometh the Wind to confession. “Out in the garden abides the Queen of the beautiful Roses Her do I love and to-night wooed her with passionate singing; Told I my love in those songs, and […]...
39. The great journalist in spain Good editor Dana God bless him, we say Will soon be afloat on the main, Will be steaming away Through the mist and the spray To the sensuous climate of Spain. Strange sights shall he see in that beautiful land Which is famed for its soap and its Moor, For, as we understand, The scenery […]...
40. Midsummer, was it, when They died Midsummer, was it, when They died A full, and perfect time The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom The Corn, her furthest kernel filled Before the coming Flail When These leaned unto Perfectness Through Haze of Burial...