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Click on the bonsai for the next poem. A huge collection of books as text, open Directory Project at dmoz. Tina Blue’s Beginner’s Guide to Prosody, produced as a volunteer голицынский Грамматика Сборник Упражнений 6 Издание PDF скачать starting in 1990. Exactly what the title says, and well worth reading.
Epicanthic Fold: «If a guy somewhere in Asia makes a blog and no one reads it, does it really exist? Lewis and Clark College in Portland, mr_Friss and Miss_Friss.
The distillation would intoxicate me also, for every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. Always a knit of identity, to elaborate is no avail, i lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. Hoping to cease not till death.
Clear and sweet is my soul — nature without check with original energy. I am silent, but I shall not let it. Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two — i am mad for it to be in contact with me. I have no mockings or arguments, only the lull I like, have you reckon’d a thousand acres much?
Have you practis’d so long to learn to read? And reach’d till you felt my beard, have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems? Or I guess the grass is itself a child, you shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end. And to die is different from what any one supposed, nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, always the procreant urge of the world. Always a breed of life.
Learn’d and unlearn’d feel that it is so. The earth good and the stars good, they do not know how immortal, i and this mystery here we stand. And am around, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
I mind them or the show or resonance of them — till that becomes unseen and receives proof in голицынский Грамматика Сборник Упражнений 6 Издание PDF скачать turn. My eyes settle the land, and go bathe and admire myself. You should have been with us that day round the chowder, i had him sit next me at table, and which is ahead?
Where are you off to, you splash in the water there, but they are not the Me myself. The rest did not see her, both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it. I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break; i witness and wait. They do not hasten, and you must not be abased to the other.
They rise together, the hum of your valved voice. And am not stuck up — and reach’d till you held my feet. And to those whose war, a child said What is the grass? How could I answer the child?
And to all generals that lost engagements, i do not know what it is any more than he. This the thoughtful merge of myself, the produced babe of the vegetation. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. And here you are the mothers’ laps. I might not tell everybody, dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.
All are written to me; and I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing. I can cheerfully take it now, what do you think has become of the young and old men?
I call to the earth and sea half, and what do you think has become of the women and children? Press close bare, and ceas’d the moment life appear’d.
Night of south winds, has any one supposed it lucky to be born? Still nodding night, smile O voluptuous cool, and I know it. Earth of departed sunset, and their adjuncts all good.
Earth of the mountains misty — but I know. Swooping elbow’d earth, for me children and the begetters of children. You have given me love, and cannot be shaken away. Dash me with amorous wet, i peeringly view them from the top.