I thought of you and how you love this beauty,
And walking up the long beach all alone
I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder
As you and I once heard their monotone.
Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me
The cold and sparkling silver of the sea,
We two will pass through death and ages lengthen
Before you hear that sound again with me.
I've had kisses that make Judas seem sincere
"If each man or woman could understand that every other human life is as full of sorrows, or joys, or base temptations, of heartaches and remorse as his own... how much kinder, how much gentler he would be"
Those long uneven lines
Standing as patiently
As if they were stretched outside
The Oval or Villa Park,
The crowns of hats, the sun
On moustached archaic faces
Grinning as if it were all
An August Bank Holiday lark;
And the shut shops, the bleached
Established names on the sunblinds,
The farthings and sovereigns,
And dark-clothed children at play
Called after kings and queens,
The tin advertisements
For cocoa and twist, and the pubs
Wide open all day--
And the countryside not caring:
The place names all hazed over
With flowering grasses, and fields
Shadowing Domesday lines
Under wheat's restless silence;
The differently-dressed servants
With tiny rooms in huge houses,
The dust behind limousines;
Never such innocence,
Never before or since,
As changed itself to past
Without a word--the men
Leaving the gardens tidy,
The thousands of marriages,
Lasting a little while longer:
Never such innocence again.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJhCMnzh9vo
my all time favorite painting, by John Opie.
That note you hold, narrowing and rising, shakes Like New Orleans reflected on the water, And in all ears appropriate falsehood wakes, Building for some a legendary Quarter Of balconies, flower-baskets and quadrilles, Everyone making love and going shares— Oh, play that thing! Mute glorious Storyvilles Others may license, grouping around their chairs Sporting-house girls like circus tigers (priced Far above rubies) to pretend their fads, While scholars manqués nod around unnoticed Wrapped up in personnels like old plaids. On me your voice falls as they say love should, Like an enormous yes. My Crescent City Is where your speech alone is understood, And greeted as the natural noise of good, Scattering long-haired grief and scored pity.
| Do leathnaigh an ciach diachraach fám sheana-du'r ar thaisteal na ndiabhal n-iasacha i bhfearann Choinn chughainn; scamall ar ghriain iaarthair dár cheartas riócht Mumhan fá deara dhom triall riamh ort, a Vailintín Brún. Caiseal gan cliar, fiailteach ná macraí ar dtús Is beanna-bhruig Bhriain ciarthuilte, 'mhadraíbh uísc, Ealla gan triar triaithe de mhacaibh rí Mumhan fá deara dhom triall riamh ort, a Vailintín Brún.
i Hambury, mo chiach iaaaarla na seachach sioch subhach- seana-rosc liath ag dianghol fá cheachtar dípbh súd fá deara dhom triall riamh ort, a Vailintín Brún. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfhrngJsago |
