A Landscape By Courbet

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1. Welsh Landscape To live in Wales is to be conscious At dusk of the spilled blood That went into the making of the wild sky, Dyeing the immaculate rivers In all their courses. It is to be aware, Above the noisy tractor And hum of the machine Of strife in the strung woods, Vibrant with sped arrows. […]...
2. On a Beautiful Landscape Beautiful landscape! I could look on thee For hours, unmindful of the storm and strife, And mingled murmurs of tumultuous life. Here, all is still as fair the stream, the tree, The wood, the sunshine on the bank: no tear No thought of time’s swift wing, or closing night Which comes to steal away the […]...
3. Musings On A Landscape Of Gaspar Poussin Poussin! most pleasantly thy pictur’d scenes Beguile the lonely hour; I sit and gaze With lingering eye, till charmed FANCY makes The lovely landscape live, and the rapt soul From the foul haunts of herded humankind Flies far away with spirit speed, and tastes The untainted air, that with the lively hue Of health and […]...
4. LOVE AS A LANDSCAPE PAINTER ON a rocky peak once sat I early, Gazing on the mist with eyes unmoving; Stretch’d out like a pall of greyish texture, All things round, and all above it cover’d. Suddenly a boy appear’d beside me, Saying “Friend, what meanest thou by gazing On the vacant pall with such composure? Hast thou lost for […]...
5. Farm Implements and Rutabagas in a Landscape The first of the undecoded messages read: “Popeye sits In thunder, Unthought of. From that shoebox of an apartment, From livid curtain’s hue, a tangram emerges: a country.” Meanwhile the Sea Hag was relaxing on a green couch: “How Pleasant To spend one’s vacation en la casa de Popeye,” she Scratched Her cleft chin’s solitary […]...
6. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
7. Insularum Ocelle Sark, fairer than aught in the world that the lit skies cover, Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers mark As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the blown clouds hover, Sark. We mourn, for love of a song that outsang the lark, That nought so lovely beholden of Sirmio’s lover Made glad […]...
8. Winter Landscape The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, through the arrangement of the trees, Past the five figures at the burning straw, Returning cold and silent to their town, Returning to the drifted snow, the rink Lively with children, to the older men, […]...
9. Again And Again, However We Know The Landscape Of Love Again and again, however we know the landscape of love And the little churchyard there, with its sorrowing names, And the frighteningly silent abyss into which the others Fall: again and again the two of us walk out together Under the ancient trees, lie down again and again Among the flowers, face to face with […]...
10. Landscape Now this must be the sweetest place From here to heaven’s end; The field is white and flowering lace, The birches leap and bend, The hills, beneath the roving sun, From green to purple pass, And little, trifling breezes run Their fingers through the grass. So good it is, so gay it is, So calm […]...
11. The Angle of a Landscape The Angle of a Landscape That every time I wake Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack Like a Venetian waiting Accosts my open eye Is just a Bough of Apples Held slanting, in the Sky The Pattern of a Chimney The Forehead of a Hill Sometimes a Vane’s Forefinger But that’s […]...
12. Landscape At The End Of The Century The sky in the trees, the trees mixed up With what’s left of heaven, nearby a patch Of daffodils rooted down Where dirt and stones comprise a kind Of night, unmetaphysical, cool as a skeptic’s Final sentence. What this scene needs Is a nude absentmindedly sunning herself On a large rock, thinks the man fed […]...
13. Landscape of a Pissing Multitude The men kept to themselves: They were waiting for the swiftness of the last cyclists. The women kept to themselves: They were expecting the death of a boy on a Japanese schooner. They all kept to themselves- Dreaming of the open beaks of dying birds, The sharp parasol that punctures A recently flattened toad, Beneath […]...
14. Landscape of a Vomiting Multitude The fat lady came out first, Tearing out roots and moistening drumskins. The fat lady Who turns dying octopuses inside out. The fat lady, the moon’s antagonist, Was running through the streets and deserted buildings And leaving tiny skulls of pigeons in the corners And stirring up the furies of the last centuries’ feasts And […]...
15. Landscape With The Fall Of Icarus According to Brueghel When Icarus fell It was spring A farmer was ploughing His field The whole pageantry Of the year was Awake tingling Near The edge of the sea Concerned With itself Sweating in the sun That melted The wings’ wax Unsignificantly Off the coast There was A splash quite unnoticed This was Icarus […]...
16. Holy Sonnet XI: Spit In My Face You Jews, And Pierce My Side Spit in my face you Jews, and pierce my side, Buffet, and scoff, scourge, and crucify me, For I have sinned, and sinned, and only he Who could do no iniquity hath died: But by my death can not be satisfied My sins, which pass the Jews’ impiety: They killed once an inglorious man, but […]...
17. The Lacking Sense Scene. A sad-coloured landscape, Waddon Vale I “O Time, whence comes the Mother’s moody look amid her labours, As of one who all unwittingly has wounded where she loves? Why weaves she not her world-webs to according lutes and tabors, With nevermore this too remorseful air upon her face, As of angel fallen from grace?” II – “Her look is but […]...
18. First Sight Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold. As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, […]...
19. In the Days of the Golden Rod Across the meadow in brooding shadow I walk to drink of the autumn’s wine­ The charm of story, the artist’s glory, To-day on these silvering hills is mine; On height, in hollow, where’er I follow, By mellow hillside and searing sod, Its plumes uplifting, in light winds drifting, I see the glimmer of golden-rod. In […]...
20. The wanderer Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, I found a shell, And to my listening ear the lonely thing Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell. How came the shell upon that mountain height? Ah, who can say Whether there dropped by some too careless […]...
21. The Pro-Consuls The overfaithful sword returns the user His heart’s desire at price of his heart’s blood. The clamour of the arrogant accuser Wastes that one hour we needed to make good. This was foretold of old at our outgoing; This we accepted who have squandered, knowing, The strength and glory of our reputations, At the day’s […]...
22. The Two Songs I heard an Angel Singing When the day was springing: “Mercy, pity, and peace, Are the world’s release.” So he sang all day Over the new-mown hay, Till the sun went down, And the haycocks looked brown. I heard a devil curse Over the heath and the furse: “Mercy vould be no more If there […]...
23. Don't Cheer Don’t cheer, damn you! Don’t cheer! Silence! Your bitterest tear Is fulsomely sweet to-day. . . . Down on your knees and pray. See, they sing as they go, Marching row upon row. Who will be spared to return, Sombre and starkly stern? Chaps whom we knew – s0 strange, Distant and dark with change; […]...
24. Saul And David It was a villainous spirit, snub-nosed, foul Of breath, thick-taloned and malevolent, That squatted within him wheresoever he went …….And possessed the soul of Saul. There was no peace on pillow or on throne. In dreams the toothless, dwarfed, and squinny-eyed Started a joyful rumor that he had died …….Unfriended and alone. The doctors were […]...
25. Concord Reconciled by death’s mild hand, that giving Peace gives wisdom, not more strong than mild, Love beholds them, each without misgiving Reconciled. Each on earth alike of earth reviled, Hated, feared, derided, and forgiving, Each alike had heaven at heart, and smiled. Both bright names, clothed round with man’s thanksgiving, Shine, twin stars above the […]...
26. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
27. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
28. The Life Beyond He wakes, who never thought to wake again, Who held the end was Death. He opens eyes Slowly, to one long livid oozing plain Closed down by the strange eyeless heavens. He lies; And waits; and once in timeless sick surmise Through the dead air heaves up an unknown hand, Like a dry branch. No […]...
29. Song I. Nay but you, who do not love her, Is she not pure gold, my mistress? Holds earth aught – speak truth – above her? Aught like this tress, see, and this tress, And this last fairest tress of all, So fair, see, ere I let it fall? II. Because, you spend your lives in […]...
30. At First. To Charlotte Cushman My crippled sense fares bow’d along His uncompanioned way, And wronged by death pays life with wrong And I wake by night and dream by day. And the Morning seems but fatigued Night That hath wept his visage pale, And the healthy mark ‘twixt dark and light In sickly sameness out doth fail. And the […]...
31. APPARENT DEATH WEEP, maiden, weep here o’er the tomb of Love; He died of nothing by mere chance was slain. But is he really dead? oh, that I cannot prove: A nothing, a mere chance, oft gives him life again. 1767-9....
32. Weave in, Weave in, My Hardy Life WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life! Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns to come; Weave in red blood! weave sinews in, like ropes! the senses, sight weave in! Weave lasting sure! weave day and night the weft, the warp, incessant weave! tire not! (We know not what the use, O […]...
33. A man saw a ball of gold in the sky A man saw a ball of gold in the sky; He climbed for it, And eventually he achieved it It was clay. Now this is the strange part: When the man went to the earth And looked again, Lo, there was the ball of gold. Now this is the strange part: It was a ball […]...
34. In Guernsey – To Theodore Watts The heavenly bay, ringed round with cliffs and moors, Storm-stained ravines, and crags that lawns inlay, Soothes as with love the rocks whose guard secures The heavenly bay. O friend, shall time take ever this away, This blessing given of beauty that endures, This glory shown us, not to pass but stay? Though sight be […]...
35. Vivien Her eyes under their lashes were blue pools Fringed round with lilies; her bright hair unfurled Clothed her as sunshine clothes the summer world. Her robes were gauzes gold and green and gules, All furry things flocked round her, from her hand Nibbling their foods and fawning at her feet. Two peacocks watched her where […]...
36. Athor and Asar [Dedicated to Frank Harris, editor of Vanity Fair] On the black night, beneath the winter moon, I clothed me in the limbs of Codia, Swooning my soul out into her red throat, So that the glimmer of our skins, the tune Og our ripe rythm, seemed the hideous play Of death-worms crawling on a corpse, […]...
37. Peace When will you ever, Peace, wild wooddove, shy wings shut, Your round me roaming end, and under be my boughs? When, when, Peace, will you, Peace? I’ll not play hypocrite To own my heart: I yield you do come sometimes; but That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of wars, the […]...
38. 1914 IV: The Dead These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat […]...
39. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
40. "Birds of Prey" March March! The mud is cakin’ good about our trousies. Front! eyes front, an’ watch the Colour-casin’s drip. Front! The faces of the women in the ‘ouses Ain’t the kind o’ things to take aboard the ship. Cheer! An’ we’ll never march to victory. Cheer! An’ we’ll never live to ‘ear the cannon roar! The Large […]...