Poesie in lingua straniera


Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
The Trees like Tassels - hit - and swung -
There seemed to rise a Tune
From Miniature Creatures
Accompanying the Sun -
Far Psalteries of Summer -
Enamoring the Ear
They never yet did satisfy -
Remotest - when most fair

The Sun shone whole at intervals -
Then Half - then utter hid -
As if Himself were optional
And had Estates of Cloud

Sufficient to enfold Him
Eternally from view -
Except it were a whim of His
To let the Orchards grow -

A Bird sat careless on the fence -
One gossipped in the Lane
On silver matters charmed a Snake
Just winding round a Stone -

Bright Flowers slit a Calyx
And soared upon a Stem
Like Hindered Flags - Sweet hoisted -
With Spices - in the Hem -

'Twas more - I cannot mention -
How mean - to those that see -
Vandyke's Delineation
Of Nature's - Summer Day!
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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
    in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
    The Spider holds a Silver Ball
    In unperceived Hands -
    And dancing softly as He knits
    His Coil of Pearl - unwinds -
    He plies from Nought to Nought -
    In unsubstantial Trade -
    Supplants our Tapestries with His -
    In half the period -

    An Hour to rear supreme
    His Theories of Light -
    Then dangle from the Housewife's Broom -
    His Sophistries - forgot.
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      Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
      in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
      Unto my Books - so good to turn -
      Far ends of tired Days -
      It half endears the Abstinence -
      And Pain - is missed - in Praise -
      As Flavors - cheer Retarded Guests
      With Banquettings to be -
      So Spices - stimulate the time
      Till my small Library -

      It may be Wilderness - without -
      Far feet of failing Men -
      But Holiday - excludes the night -
      And it is Bells - within -

      I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf -
      Their Countenances Kid
      Enamor - in Prospective -
      And satisfy - obtained.
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        Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
        in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
        Of Brussels - it was not -
        Of Kidderminster? Nay -
        The Winds did buy it of the Woods -
        Then - sell it unto me
        It was a gentle price -
        The poorest - could afford -
        It was within the frugal purse
        Of Beggar - or of Bird -

        Of small and spicy Breadths -
        In hue - a mellow Dun -
        Of Sunshine - and of Sere - Composed -
        But, principally - of Sun -

        The Wind - unrolled it fast -
        And spread it on the Ground -
        Upholsterer of the Pines - is He -
        Upholsterer - of the Pond.
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          Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
          in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
          A still - Volcano - Life -
          That flickered in the night -
          When it was dark enough to do
          Without erasing sight -
          A quiet - Earthquake Style -
          Too subtle to suspect
          By natures this side Naples -
          The North cannot detect

          The Solemn - Torrid - Symbol -
          The lips that never lie -
          Whose hissing Corals part - and shut -
          And Cities - ooze away.
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            Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
            in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
            You know that Portrait in the Moon -
            So tell me Who 'tis like -
            The very Brow - the stooping eyes -
            A-fog for - Say - Whose Sake?
            The very Pattern of the Cheek -
            It varies - in the Chin -
            But - Ishmael - since we met - 'tis long -
            And fashions - intervene -

            When Moon's at full - 'Tis Thou - I say -
            My lips just hold the name -
            When crescent - Thou art worn - I note -
            But - there - the Golden Same -

            And when - Some Night - Bold - slashing Clouds
            Cut Thee away from Me -
            That's easier - than the other film
            That glazes Holiday.
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              Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
              in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
              Better - than Music! For I - who heard it -
              I was used - to the Birds - before -
              This - was different - 'Twas Translation -
              Of all tunes I knew - and more -
              'Twas'nt contained - like other stanza -
              No one could play it - the second time -
              But the Composer - perfect Mozart -
              Perish with him - that keyless Rhyme!

              So - Children - told how Brooks in Eden -
              Bubbled a better - melody -
              Quaintly infer - Eve's great surrender -
              Urging the feet - that would - not - fly -

              Children - matured - are wiser - mostly -
              Eden - a legend - dimly told -
              Eve - and the Anguish - Grandame's story -
              But - I was telling a tune - I heard -

              Not such a strain - the Church - baptizes -
              When the last Saint - goes up the Aisles -
              Not such a stanza splits the silence -
              When the Redemption strikes her Bells -

              Let me not spill - it's smallest cadence -
              Humming - for promise - when alone -
              Humming - until my faint Rehearsal -
              Drop into tune - around the Throne.
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                Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
                in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
                This World is not Conclusion.
                A sequel stands beyond -
                Invisible, as Music -
                But positive, as Sound -
                It beckons, and it baffles -
                Philosophy, dont know -
                And through a Riddle, at the last -
                Sagacity, must go -
                To guess it, puzzles scholars -
                To gain it, Men have borne
                Contempt of Generations
                And Crucifixion, shown -
                Faith slips - and laughs, and rallies -
                Blushes, if any see -
                Plucks at a twig of Evidence -
                And asks a Vane, the way -
                Much Gesture, from the Pulpit -
                Strong Hallelujahs roll -
                Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
                That nibbles at the soul.
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