Gustav Klimt, Freya’s Tears – Golden tears, c.1900 Music of the wormshandles me like a hot flyas escalators turn into spoonsgrandma moses would have wanted itthus –early to rise with tear – stained eyeslet me take you away from all of this: there is a place behind the hills, where trees are shaped likeguillotines,and mandolins …
Charles Bukowski – Buona notte, dolce principe / Good night, sweet prince Read More »
Leopold von Kalckreuth, Sunday afternoon, 1893 I sing to use the Waiting my bonnet but to tie and shut the door unto my house no more to do have I till his best step approaching we journey to the Day and tell each other how we sung to keep the Dark away. Io canto per …
Emily Dickinson – Io canto per riempire l’attesa / I sing to use the Waiting Read More »
Anastasia Matveeva, Evening, 2016 When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d, and the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night, I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring. Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring, lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west, and thought of him …
Henri Rousseau, The Snake Charmer, 1907 In the swamp in secluded recesses,a shy and hidden bird is warbling a song. Solitary the thrush,the hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,sings by himself a song. Song of the bleeding throat,death’s outlet song of life, (for well dear brother I know,if thou wast not granted to sing …
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