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Jorge Guillén

En el contorno del límite Se complacen los objetos, Y su propia desnudez Los redondea: son ellos. In the sharpness of their edges Objects seem to take delight, And their own nakedness Fills them out: they are what they are. — Jorge Guillén, from “El Aire,” Cántico: A Selection, ed. Norman Thomas di Giovanni (Atlantic-Little,… Continue reading Jorge Guillén

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E. E. Cummings

what if a dawn of a doom of a dream bites this universe in two, peels forever out of his grave and sprinkles nowhere with me and you?     — E. E. Cummings, from “what if a much of a which of a wind,” E. E. Cummings: The Complete Poems (Liveright, 1994)

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E. E. Cummings

little tree little silent Christmas tree you are so little you are more like a flower who found you in the green forest and were you very sorry to come away? see          i will comfort you because you smell so sweetly i will kiss your cool bark and hug you safe and tight just as… Continue reading E. E. Cummings

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E. E. Cummings

here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart i carry your heart… Continue reading E. E. Cummings

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E. E. Cummings

if you like my poems let them walk in the evening,a little behind you then people will say “Along this road i saw a princess pass on her way to meet her lover (it was toward nightfall) with tall and ignorant servants. — E. E. Cummings, “if you like my poems let them,” Etcetera: The… Continue reading E. E. Cummings

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Sergei Esenin

[No crying, calling out, complaining] No crying, calling out, complaining, This all will pass, like the green of gold, Like the white smoke of apple blooms, And I won’t be as young as I used to. Already, your blood isn’t as quick as it was, I tell my heart—and it’s getting colder. White birch roots… Continue reading Sergei Esenin

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