Poesie inserite da Silvana Stremiz

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The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go -
The Crocus - till she rises
The Vassal of the snow -
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practise bore
Till bye and bye these Bargemen
Walked singing on the shore.
Pearls are the Diver's farthings
Extorted from the sea -
Pinions - the Seraph's wagon
Pedestrian once - as we -
Night is the morning's Canvas
Larceny - legacy -
Death, but our rapt attention
To Immortality.

My figures fail to tell me
How far the village lies -
Whose peasants are the angels -
Whose Cantons dot the skies -
My Classics vail their faces -
My faith that Dark adores -
Which from it's solemn abbeys
Such resurrection pours

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She slept beneath a tree -
Remembered but by me.
I touched her Cradle mute -
She recognized the foot -
Put on her carmine suit
And see!

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There is a morn by men unseen -
Whose maids upon remoter green
Keep their seraphic May -
And all day long, with dance and game,
And gambol I may never name -
Employ their holiday.
Here to light measure, move the feet
Which walk no more the village street -
Nor by the wood are found -
Here are the birds that sought the sun
When last year's distaff idle hung
And summer's brows were bound.

Ne'er saw I such a wondrous scene -
Ne'er such a ring on such a green -
Nor so serene array -
As if the stars some summer night
Should swing their cups of Chrysolite -
And revel till the day -

Like thee to dance - like thee to sing -
People upon the mystic green -
I ask, each new May morn.
I wait thy far - fantastic bells -
Announcing me in other dells -
Unto the different dawn!

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I had a guinea golden -
I lost it in the sand -
And thò the sum was simple
And pounds were in the land -
Still, had it such a value
Unto my frugal eye -
That when I could not find it -
I sat me down to sigh.
I had a crimson Robin -
Who sang full many a day
But when the woods were painted -
He - too - did fly away -
Time brought me other Robins -
Their ballads were the same -
Still, for my missing Troubadour
I kept the "house at hame".

I had a star in heaven -
One "Pleiad" was it's name -
And when I was not heeding,
It wandered from the same -
And thò the skies are crowded -
And all the night ashine -
I do not care about it -
Since none of them are mine -

My story has a moral -
I have a missing friend -
"Pleiad" it's name -and Robin -
And guinea in the sand -
And when this mournful ditty
Accompanied with tear -
Shall meet the eye of traitor
In country far from here -
Grant that repentance solemn
May seize upon his mind -
And he no consolation
Beneath the sun may find.

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All these my banners be.
I sow my pageantry
In May -
It rises train by train -
Then sleeps in state again -
My chancel - all the plain
     Today.
To lose - if One can find again -
To miss - if One shall meet -
The Burglar cannot rob - then -
The Broker cannot cheat.
So build the hillocks gaily
Thou little spade of mine
Leaving nooks for Daisy
And for Columbine -
You and I the secret
Of the Crocus know -
Let us chant it softly -
"There is no more snow!"

To him who keeps an Orchis' heart -
The swamps are pink with June

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We lose - because we win -
Gamblers - recollecting which -
Toss their dice again.

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Distrustful of the Gentian -
And just to turn away,
The fluttering of her fringes
Chid my perfidy -
Weary for my ——
I will singing go -
I shall not feel the sleet - then -
I shall not fear the snow.
Flees so the phantom meadow
Before the breathless Bee -
So bubble brooks in deserts
On ears that dying lie -
Burn so the evening spires
To eyes that Closing go -
Hangs so distant Heaven -
To a hand below

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A sepal - petal - and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn -
A flask of Dew - A Bee or two -
A Breeze - a caper in the trees -
And I'm a Rose!
Un sepalo, un petalo e una spina
In un comune mattino d'estate;
Un fiasco di rugiada, un'ape o due,
Una brezza,
Un frullo in mezzo agli alberi;
Ed io sono una rosa!

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The Gentian weaves her fringes -
The Maple's loom is red -
My departing blossoms
     Obviate parade.
A brief, but patient illness -
An hour to prepare -
And one below, this morning
Is where the angels are -
It was a short procession -
The Bobolink was there -
An aged Bee addressed us -
And then we knelt in prayer -
We trust that she was willing -
We ask that we may be -
Summer - Sister - Seraph!
Let us go with thee!

In the name of the Bee -
And of the Butterfly -
And of the Breeze - Amen!

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Baffled for just a day or two -
Embarrassed - not afraid -
Encounter in my garden
An unexpected Maid!
She beckons, and the Woods start -
She nods, and all begin -
Surely, such a country
I was never in