2 min read
Слушать(AI)Be Music Night
Be music, night,
That her sleep may go Where angels have their pale tall choirs Be a hand, sea,
That her dreams may watch Thy guidesman touching the green flesh of the world Be a voice, sky,
That her beauties may be counted And the stars will tilt their quiet faces Into the mirror of her loveliness Be a road, earth,
That her walking may take thee Where the towns of heaven lift their breathing spires O be a world and a throne,
God,
That her living may find its weather And the souls of ancient bells in a child's book Shall lead her into Thy wondrous house
Kenneth Patchen
Kenneth Patchen (December 13, 1911 – January 8, 1972) was an American poet and novelist. He experimented with different forms of writing and inc
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
The Artists Duty
So it is the duty of the artist to discourage all traces of To extend all To fog them in right over the To kill only what is
In the footsteps of the walking air
In the footsteps of the walking Sky's prophetic chickens weave their cloth of And hillsides lift green wings in somber journeying Night in his soft haste bumps on the shoulders of the
When We Were Here Together
when we were here together in a place we did not know, nor oneanother Abit of grass held between the teeth for a moment, bright hair on the wind What we were we did not know, nor even the grass or the flame of hair turning to ash on the ...
Saturday Night in the Parthenon
Tiny green birds skate over the surface of the room A naked girl prepares a basin with steaming water, And in the corner away from the hearth, the red Of an up-ended chariot slowly turn
