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Слушать(AI)Fear
The host, he says that all is
And the fire-wood glow is bright;
The food has a warm and tempting smell,-But on the window licks the night.
Pile on the logs...
Give me your hands,
Friends!
No,- it is not fright...
But hold me... somewhere I heard demands...
And on the window licks the night.
Harold Hart Crane
Harold Hart Crane (July 21, 1899 – April 27, 1932) was an American poet. Provoked and inspired by T. S. Eliot, Crane wrote modernist poetry that
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The Tunnel
Performances, assortments, résumés— Up Times Square to Columbus Circle lights Channel the congresses, nightly sessions, Refractions of the thousand theatres, faces— Mysterious kitchens
Passage
Where the cedar leaf divides the sky I heard the sea In sapphire arenas of the hills I was promised an improved infancy Sulking, sanctioning the sun, My memory I left in a ravine,- Casual louse that tissues the buck-wheat,
The Dance
The swift red flesh, a winter king— Who squired the glacier woman down the sky She ran the neighing canyons all the spring; She spouted arms; she rose with maize—to die And in the autumn drouth, whose burnished hands With mineral wa...
To Brooklyn Bridge
How many dawns, chill from his rippling The seagull's wings shall dip and pivot him, Shedding white rings of tumult, building Over the chained bay waters Liberty—Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our