Journey Into The Interior

Related poetry:

1. Journey Of The Magi ‘A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.’ And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory, Lying down in the melting snow. There were times we regretted The summer palaces on slopes, […]...
2. The Journey One day you finally knew What you had to do, and began, Though the voices around you Kept shouting Their bad advice— Though the whole house Began to tremble And you felt the old tug At your ankles. “Mend my life!” Each voice cried. But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do, […]...
3. Sonnet 50: How heavy do I journey on the way How heavy do I journey on the way, When what I seek, my weary travel’s end, Doth teach that case and that repose to say, “Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!” The beast that bears me, tired with my woe, Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me, As if by […]...
4. Journey Ah, could I lay me down in this long grass And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind Blow over me-I am so tired, so tired Of passing pleasant places! All my life, Following Care along the dusty road, Have I looked back at loveliness and sighed; Yet at my hand an unrelenting hand […]...
5. Hard is the Journey Gold vessels of fine wines, Thousands a gallon, Jade dishes of rare meats, Costing more thousands, I lay my chopsticks down, No more can banquet, I draw my sword and stare Wildly about me: Ice bars my way to cross The Yellow River, Snows from dark skies to climb The T’ai-hang mountains! At peace I […]...
6. Interior IN the cool of the night time The clocks pick off the points And the mainsprings loosen. They will need winding. One of these days… they will need winding. Rabelais in red boards, Walt Whitman in green, Hugo in ten-cent paper covers, Here they stand on shelves In the cool of the night time And […]...
7. The Journey Anghiari is medieval, a sleeve sloping down A steep hill, suddenly sweeping out To the edge of a cliff, and dwindling. But far up the mountain, behind the town, We too were swept out, out by the wind, Alone with the Tuscan grass. Wind had been blowing across the hills For days, and everything now […]...
8. Our journey had advanced Our journey had advanced Our feet were almost come To that odd Fork in Being’s Road Eternity by Term Our pace took sudden awe Our feet reluctant led Before were Cities but Between The Forest of the Dead Retreat was out of Hope Behind a Sealed Route Eternity’s White Flag Before And God at every […]...
9. The Song And The Sigh The creek went down with a broken song, ‘Neath the sheoaks high; The waters carried the song along, And the oaks a sigh. The song and the sigh went winding by, Went winding down; Circling the foot of the mountain high, And the hillside brown. They were hushed in the swamp of the Dead Man’s […]...
10. Journey's End In western lands beneath the Sun The flowers may rise in Spring, The trees may bud, the waters run, The merry finches sing. Or there maybe ’tis cloudless night, And swaying branches bear The Elven-stars as jewels white Amid their branching hair. Though here at journey’s end I lie In darkness buried deep, Beyond all […]...
11. Peach Blossom Journey Fishing boat pursue water love hill spring Both banks peach blossom arrive ancient river crossing Travel look red tree not know far Travel furthest blue stream not see people Mountain mouth stealthy move begin cave profound Mountain open spacious view spin flat land Far see one place accumulate cloud tree Nearby join 1000 homes scattered […]...
12. Journey Home The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long. I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my Voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet. It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, […]...
13. The Journey The morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs; And the flowers were all merry by the roadside; And the wealth of gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds While we busily went on our way and paid no heed. We sang no glad songs nor played; We went not to […]...
14. Late Leaves THE leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture in the eye; So have I too. Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird The whole wood through. Winter may come: he brings but nigher His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire Where old friends meet. Let him; […]...
15. The Perch Perch on their water perch hung in the clear Bann River Near the clay bank in alder dapple and waver, Perch they called ‘grunts’, little flood-slubs, runty and ready, I saw and I see in the river’s glorified body That is passable through, but they’re bluntly holding the Pass, Under the water-roof, over the bottom, […]...
16. WINTER JOURNEY OVER THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS [The following explanation is necessary, in order To make this ode in any way intelligible. The Poet is supposed to Leave his companions, who are proceeding on a hunting expedition In winter, in order himself to pay a visit to a hypochondriacal Friend, and also to see the mining in the Hartz mountains. The ode […]...
17. Gravelly Run I don’t know somehow it seems sufficient To see and hear whatever coming and going is, Losing the self to the victory of stones and trees, Of bending sandpit lakes, crescent Round groves of dwarf pine: For it is not so much to know the self As to know it as it is known by […]...
18. Aftermath When the summer fields are mown, When the birds are fledged and flown, And the dry leaves strew the path; With the falling of the snow, With the cawing of the crow, Once again the fields we mow And gather in the aftermath. Not the sweet, new grass with flowers Is this harvesting of ours; […]...
19. Sympathy I know what the caged bird feels, alas! When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass, And the river flows like a stream of glass; When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, And the faint perfume from its chalice steals I know […]...
20. August When my eyes are weeds, And my lips are petals, spinning Down the wind that has beginning Where the crumpled beeches start In a fringe of salty reeds; When my arms are elder-bushes, And the rangy lilac pushes Upward, upward through my heart; Summer, do your worst! Light your tinsel moon, and call on Your […]...
21. The Far Field I I dream of journeys repeatedly: Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel Of driving alone, without luggage, out a long peninsula, The road lined with snow-laden second growth, A fine dry snow ticking the windshield, Alternate snow and sleet, no on-coming traffic, And no lights behind, in the blurred side-mirror, The […]...
22. Uplands In May WONDER as of old things Fresh and fair come back Hangs over pasture and road. Lush in the lowland grasses rise And upland beckons to upland. The great strong hills are humble....
23. Interior It sheds a shy solemnity, This lamp in our poor room. O grey and gold amenity, Silence and gentle gloom! Wide from the world, a stolen hour We claim, and none may know How love blooms like a tardy flower Here in the day’s after-glow. And even should the world break in With jealous threat […]...
24. Interior Her mind lives in a quiet room, A narrow room, and tall, With pretty lamps to quench the gloom And mottoes on the wall. There all the things are waxen neat And set in decorous lines; And there are posies, round and sweet, And little, straightened vines. Her mind lives tidily, apart From cold and […]...
25. Night Journey Now as the train bears west, Its rhythm rocks the earth, And from my Pullman berth I stare into the night While others take their rest. Bridges of iron lace, A suddenness of trees, A lap of mountain mist All cross my line of sight, Then a bleak wasted place, And a lake below my […]...
26. Interior Portrait You don’t survive in me Because of memories; Nor are you mine because Of a lovely longing’s strength. What does make you present Is the ardent detour That a slow tenderness Traces in my blood. I do not need To see you appear; Being born sufficed for me To lose you a little less....
27. Venetian Interior Allegra, rising from her canopied dreams, Slides both white feet across the slanted beams Which lace the peacock jalousies: behold An idol of fine clay, with feet of gold...
28. Light Between the Trees Long, long, long the trail Through the brooding forest-gloom, Down the shadowy, lonely vale Into silence, like a room Where the light of life has fled, And the jealous curtains close Round the passionless repose Of the silent dead. Plod, plod, plod away, Step by step in mouldering moss; Thick branches bar the day Over […]...
29. Final Soliloquy Of The Interior Paramour Light the first light of evening, as in a room In which we rest and, for small reason, think The world imagined is the ultimate good. This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous. It is in that thought that we collect ourselves, Out of all the indifferences, into one thing: Within a single thing, a single […]...
30. The Night Journey Hands and lit faces eddy to a line; The dazed last minutes click; the clamour dies. Beyond the great-swung arc o’ the roof, divine, Night, smoky-scarv’d, with thousand coloured eyes Glares the imperious mystery of the way. Thirsty for dark, you feel the long-limbed train Throb, stretch, thrill motion, slide, pull out and sway, Strain […]...
31. The Farewell Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage Gone, gone, sold and gone To the rice-swamp dank and lone. Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings Where the noisome insect stings Where the fever demon strews Poison with the falling dews Where the sickly sunbeams glare Through the hot and misty air; Gone, […]...
32. In A Light Time The alder shudders in the April winds Off the moon. No one is awake and yet Sunlight streams across The hundred still beds Of the public wards For children. At ten Do we truly sleep In a blessed sleep Guarded by angels And social workers? Do we dream of gold Found in secret trunks In […]...
33. In A Dark Time In a dark time, the eye begins to see, I meet my shadow in the deepening shade; I hear my echo in the echoing wood A lord of nature weeping to a tree, I live between the heron and the wren, Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den. What’s madness but nobility of […]...
34. Temporary Poem Of My Time Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west, Latin writing, from west to east. Languages are like cats: You must not stroke their hair the wrong way. The clouds come from the sea, the hot wind from the desert, The trees bend in the wind, And stones fly from all four winds, Into […]...
35. The Storm 1 Against the stone breakwater, Only an ominous lapping, While the wind whines overhead, Coming down from the mountain, Whistling between the arbors, the winding terraces; A thin whine of wires, a rattling and flapping of leaves, And the small street-lamp swinging and slamming against the lamp pole. Where have the people gone? There is […]...
36. Within the Circuit of This Plodding Life Within the circuit of this plodding life There enter moments of an azure hue, Untarnished fair as is the violet Or anemone, when the spring strews them By some meandering rivulet, which make The best philosophy untrue that aims But to console man for his grievances I have remembered when the winter came, High in […]...
37. A Song of the Road O I will walk with you, my lad, whichever way you fare, You’ll have me, too, the side o’ you, with heart as light as air; No care for where the road you take’s a-leadin’ anywhere, It can but be a joyful ja’nt whilst you journey there. The road you take’s the path o’ love, […]...
38. Sweet is the swamp with its secrets Sweet is the swamp with its secrets, Until we meet a snake; ‘Tis then we sigh for houses, And our departure take At that enthralling gallop That only childhood knows. A snake is summer’s treason, And guile is where it goes....
39. Journey West I said Goodbye To Beale Street one year, Eyes hurting From the painful contrast Of stark white on black – Dividing-lines with No intervening warm colors. West of the Mississippi The Trail of Tears Meanders, Silent imitation Of the great river, A different culture’s Babylon Although dry now, Bones’ dust Underneath retreating feet. Trading riverbanks […]...
40. On A Journey Don’t be downcast, soon the night will come, When we can see the cool moon laughing in secret Over the faint countryside, And we rest, hand in hand. Don’t be downcast, the time will soon come When we can have rest. Our small crosses will stand On the bright edge of the road together, And […]...