Kenneth Slessor

Kenneth Slessor

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

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HE old Quarry,
Sun, with bleeding scales, Flaps up the gullies, wets their crystal pebbles, Floating with waters of gold; darkness exhales Brutishly in the valley; smoke rises in bubbles; Suddenly we stop at the meeting of two trails
&qu...
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I'LL kick your walls to bits,
I'll die scratching a tunnel, If you'll give me a wall, if you'll give me a simple stone, If you'll do me the honour of a dungeon— Anything but this tyranny of sinews
Lashed with a hundred ropes of nerve and...
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Country towns, with your willows and squares,
And farmers bouncing on barrel
To public houses of yellow
With "1860" over their doors,
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NG friends is not a pomp, Not, indeed,
Roman: Lacking the monument, Heroic stone; Nor is it an obscuring parasol, The pad of customary gloves and cries And a black leather mourning-carriage Hung between death and the beholder's eyes
This...
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NG on flags of ebony and pearl, My paladins are waiting
Loops of smoke Stoop slowly from the coffee-cups, and curl In thin fantastic patterns down the room By cabinets of chinaware, to whirl With milky-blue tobacco-steam, and fume Together pa...
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KE upon smoke; over the stone lips Of chimneys bleeding, a darker fume descends
Night, the old nun, in voiceless pity bends To kiss corruption, so fabulous her pity
All drowns in night
Even the lazar drowns In earth at last, and ris...
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These black bush-waters, heavy with crusted boughs Like plumes above dead captains, wake the mind…
Uncounted kissing, unremembered vows,
Nights long forgotten, moons too dark to find,
Or stars too cold…all quick things that have fle...
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