Snow
The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window wasSpawning snow and pink roses against itSoundlessly collateral and incompatible:World is suddener than we fancy it.World is crazier and more of it than we think,Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portionA tangerine and spit the pips and feelThe drunkenness of things being various.And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for worldIs more spiteful and gay than one supposes—On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands—There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.
Showing posts with label Louis MacNeice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Louis MacNeice. Show all posts
Tuesday, 20 February 2018
Louis MacNeice
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Solnit
The rhythm of walking generates a kind of rhythm of thinking, and the passage through a landscape echoes or stimulates the passage thr...

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The Windows How do you earn a life going on Behind yellow windows, writing at night The Latin names of plants for a ...
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The rhythm of walking generates a kind of rhythm of thinking, and the passage through a landscape echoes or stimulates the passage thr...
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The Pomegranate The only legend I have ever loved is the story of a daughter lost in hell. And found and rescued there. Love and ...