Poesie in lingua straniera


Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
The Spider holds a Silver Ball
In unperceived Hands -
And dancing softly as He knits
His Coil of Pearl - unwinds -
He plies from Nought to Nought -
In unsubstantial Trade -
Supplants our Tapestries with His -
In half the period -

An Hour to rear supreme
His Theories of Light -
Then dangle from the Housewife's Broom -
His Sophistries - forgot.
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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
    in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
    Unto my Books - so good to turn -
    Far ends of tired Days -
    It half endears the Abstinence -
    And Pain - is missed - in Praise -
    As Flavors - cheer Retarded Guests
    With Banquettings to be -
    So Spices - stimulate the time
    Till my small Library -

    It may be Wilderness - without -
    Far feet of failing Men -
    But Holiday - excludes the night -
    And it is Bells - within -

    I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf -
    Their Countenances Kid
    Enamor - in Prospective -
    And satisfy - obtained.
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      Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
      in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
      Of Brussels - it was not -
      Of Kidderminster? Nay -
      The Winds did buy it of the Woods -
      Then - sell it unto me
      It was a gentle price -
      The poorest - could afford -
      It was within the frugal purse
      Of Beggar - or of Bird -

      Of small and spicy Breadths -
      In hue - a mellow Dun -
      Of Sunshine - and of Sere - Composed -
      But, principally - of Sun -

      The Wind - unrolled it fast -
      And spread it on the Ground -
      Upholsterer of the Pines - is He -
      Upholsterer - of the Pond.
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        Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
        in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
        A still - Volcano - Life -
        That flickered in the night -
        When it was dark enough to do
        Without erasing sight -
        A quiet - Earthquake Style -
        Too subtle to suspect
        By natures this side Naples -
        The North cannot detect

        The Solemn - Torrid - Symbol -
        The lips that never lie -
        Whose hissing Corals part - and shut -
        And Cities - ooze away.
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          Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
          in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
          You know that Portrait in the Moon -
          So tell me Who 'tis like -
          The very Brow - the stooping eyes -
          A-fog for - Say - Whose Sake?
          The very Pattern of the Cheek -
          It varies - in the Chin -
          But - Ishmael - since we met - 'tis long -
          And fashions - intervene -

          When Moon's at full - 'Tis Thou - I say -
          My lips just hold the name -
          When crescent - Thou art worn - I note -
          But - there - the Golden Same -

          And when - Some Night - Bold - slashing Clouds
          Cut Thee away from Me -
          That's easier - than the other film
          That glazes Holiday.
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            Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
            in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
            Better - than Music! For I - who heard it -
            I was used - to the Birds - before -
            This - was different - 'Twas Translation -
            Of all tunes I knew - and more -
            'Twas'nt contained - like other stanza -
            No one could play it - the second time -
            But the Composer - perfect Mozart -
            Perish with him - that keyless Rhyme!

            So - Children - told how Brooks in Eden -
            Bubbled a better - melody -
            Quaintly infer - Eve's great surrender -
            Urging the feet - that would - not - fly -

            Children - matured - are wiser - mostly -
            Eden - a legend - dimly told -
            Eve - and the Anguish - Grandame's story -
            But - I was telling a tune - I heard -

            Not such a strain - the Church - baptizes -
            When the last Saint - goes up the Aisles -
            Not such a stanza splits the silence -
            When the Redemption strikes her Bells -

            Let me not spill - it's smallest cadence -
            Humming - for promise - when alone -
            Humming - until my faint Rehearsal -
            Drop into tune - around the Throne.
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              Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
              in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
              This World is not Conclusion.
              A sequel stands beyond -
              Invisible, as Music -
              But positive, as Sound -
              It beckons, and it baffles -
              Philosophy, dont know -
              And through a Riddle, at the last -
              Sagacity, must go -
              To guess it, puzzles scholars -
              To gain it, Men have borne
              Contempt of Generations
              And Crucifixion, shown -
              Faith slips - and laughs, and rallies -
              Blushes, if any see -
              Plucks at a twig of Evidence -
              And asks a Vane, the way -
              Much Gesture, from the Pulpit -
              Strong Hallelujahs roll -
              Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
              That nibbles at the soul.
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                Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
                in Poesie (Poesie in lingua straniera)
                Had I presumed to hope -
                The loss had been to Me
                A Value - for the Greatness'Sake -
                As Giants - gone away -
                Had I presumed to gain
                A Favor so remote -
                The failure but confirm the Grace
                In further Infinite -

                'Tis failure - not of Hope -
                But resolute Despair -
                Advancing on Celestial Lists -
                With faint - Terrestrial power -

                'Tis Honor - though I die -
                For That no Man obtain
                Till He be justified by Death -
                This - is the Second Gain.
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