SPONTANEOUS me, Nature,
The loving day, the mounting sun, the friend I am happy with,
The arm of my friend hanging idly over my shoulder,
The hill-side whiten'd with blossoms of the mountain ash,
The same, late in autumn--the hues of red, yellow, drab, purple, and
light and dark green,
The rich coverlid of the grass--animals and birds--the private
untrimm'd bank--the primitive apples--the pebble-stones,
Beautiful dripping fragments--the negligent list of one after
another, as I happen to call them to me, or think of them,
......
It was the weekend, and I was sleeping late that day,
Alone with the morning, while savoring marvels of May.
As I drowsed luxuriantly, at the outskirts of dreams,
I heard a strange sound, while soaking in gay sunbeams!
The sound came from my closet, quite across the room,
And drifted over mysteriously, like scent of perfume.
I moved toward the sound, so to discover its source,
......
GIVE me the splendid silent sun, with all his beams full-dazzling;
Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard;
Give me a field where the unmow'd grass grows;
Give me an arbor, give me the trellis'd grape;
Give me fresh corn and wheat--give me serene-moving animals, teaching
content;
Give me nights perfectly quiet, as on high plateaus west of the
Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars;
Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers, where I can
walk undisturb'd;
......
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills; 10
......
Although I had always adored flowers, I had never had a green thumb;
And while I tried awfully hard, my efforts always had sorry outcomes.
Like the sorrow of old garden roses, during the unanticipated drought,
Or storms that send you fleeing homewards, with trepidation and doubt.
It is irony that my name is Jasmine, for I'd always wanted a garden,
As warm meadows dream of riotous blooms, where blooms have not been!
And how I envied the lucky ones, nurturing blossoms so effortlessly,
......
Når musikken blir kjedelig
når jeg ikke har styrke til
magisk uttrykk
vil himmelen bryte opp
månen vil bli hjemløs
......
Mary Fletcher was prime minister in olde England, like fondest memory,
Of days when the twilight stood still, with silver moon, floating on sea.
Mary Fletcher was capable and caring, to the country's great benefit;
Like spring rains of green benevolence, trailing the fragrant evidence.
Andrew was Mary's loving husband. Their lives were so happy together!
Like allurng, violet future, that recalls moments in lush, green heather.
Scarlet summer was all in a fever, as faceted friends called, flustered;
......
From obscurity come the strangers
Fading away, like old dangers.
Walking the street of flowers
more people pass every hour
A few are pleasantry exchangers.
Near my porch, robin sings
Beautiful music for summer swing!
Red berries in a bowl
Kelly green butterfles, on patrol
......
Coins aren't my favorite thing
They are either shiny and bright
Or dull and dirty
But I know better
The shiniest ones and most bright
Turn out to be dirty and dull on the flip side
Dirty and dull
No use for something that isn't pretty
They give quite the impression
Until you realize all their flaws and imperfections
......
in this molten hollow, crusted with land
overdue says the axis, manic spinning
round and about the magic gravity bond
there was barely a doubt in the eyes of the abyss
it gazes back when the word is said
quick, quick, the moment seeping quick
brushing—in bristles soft—our mystic time
each moment passing by, the fabric
layer stretching out into a platter: shine
presented on the altar of conscience
......