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Conrad Aiken
2007-01-22 22:37:01 Conrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978)PoemasConrad Aiken -Meeting-Conrad Aiken -Two coffees in the Español-Conrad Aiken -Portrait of a girl.Conrad Aiken -Goya-Conrad Aiken -God's acre-
By: Poemas en ingles
Conrad Aiken -Meeting-
2007-01-22 22:37:01 MeetingConrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978)Conrad AikenWhy do I look at you? Why do I touch you? What do I seek in you, woman,That I should to meet you again?Why must I sound once more your abysmal anothingnees,And draw up only pain?Hard, hard, I stare at you watery ayes; yet am not convinced, Now no more than ever before,That they are only two mirrors reflecting the sky?s blank light,That, and nothing more.And I press my body against your body, as thoungh I hoped to breakClean through to another sphere;And I strive to speak to you with a speech beyond my speech,In which all things are clear;Till exhausted I drown once more in your abysmal nothingnees,And the cold nothignees of me:You, laughing and crying in this ridiculous room,With your had upon my knee;Crying because you think me perverse and unhappy; and laughingTo find our love so strange;Our eyes fixed hard on each other in a last blind desperate hopeThat the whole world might change.Encuentro ¿Por qué te contemplo? ¿Por qué te t...
By: Poemas en ingles
Conrad Aiken -Two coffees in the Español-
2006-11-28 03:33:02 Two coffees in the Español Conrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978) Two coffees in the Español, the lastBright drops of golden Barsac in a goblet,Fig paste and candied nuts? Hardy is dead,And James and Conrad dead, and Shakspere dead,And old Moore ripens for an obscene grave,And Yeats for an arid one; and I, and you --What winding sheet for us, what boards and bricks,What mummeries, candles, prayers and pious frauds?You shall be lapped in Syrian scarlet, woman,And wear your pearls, and your bright bracelets, too,Your agate ring, and round your neck shall hangYour dark blue lapis with its specks of gold.And I, beside you -- ah! But will that be?For there are dark streams in this dark world, lady,Gulf Streams and Arctic currrents of the soul;And I may be, before our consummationBeds us together, cheek by jowl, in earth,Swept to another shore, where my white bonesWil lie unhonored, or defiled by gulls. What dignity can death bestow on us,Who kiss beneath a streetlamp, or hold handsHal...
By: Poemas en ingles
Conrad Aiken -Portrait of a girl.
2006-11-28 03:33:02 Portrait of a girl Conrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978) This is the shape of the leaf, and this of the flower,And this the pale bole of the treeWhich watches its boughs in a pool of unwavering waterIn a land we never shall see. The thrush on the bough is silent, the dew falls softly,In the evening is hardly a sound.And the three beautiful pilgrims who come here togetherTouch lightly the dust of the ground, Touch it with feet that trouble the dust but as wings do,Come shyly together, are still,Like dancers who wait, in a pause of the music, for musicThe exquisite silence to fill. This is the thought of the first, and this of the second,And this the grave thought of the third:"Linger we thus for a moment, palely expectant,And silence will end, and the bird "Sing the pure phrase, sweet phrase, clear phrase in the twilightTo fill the blue bell of the world; And we, who on music so leaf like have drifted together,Leaflike apart shall be whirled Into what but the beauty of silence, s...
By: Poemas en ingles
Conrad Aiken -Goya-
2006-05-18 16:42:00 GoyaConrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978)Goya drew a pig on a wall.The five-year-old hairdresser?s sonSaw, graved on a silver tray,The lion; and sunsets were begun.Goya smelt the bull-íight blood.The pupil of the CarmeliteGave his hands to a goldsmith, learnedTo gild an aureole aright.Goya saw the Puzzel's eyes:Sang in the street (with a guitar)And climbed the balcony; but Keats(Under the halyards) wrote 'Bright star'.Goya saw the Great Slut pickThe chirping human puppets up,And laugh, with pendulous mountain lip,And drown them in a corlee cup;Or squeeze their little juices outIn arid hands, insensitive,To make them gibber... Goyawent Among the catacombs to live.He saw gross Ronyons of the air,Harelipped and goitered, raped in flightBy hairless pimps, umbrella-winged:Tumult above Madrid at night.He heard the seconds in his clockCrack like seeds, divulge, and pourAbysmal filth of NothingnessBetween the pendulum and the floor:Torrents of dead veins, rotted cells,Tonsils decayed, and fm...
By: Poemas en ingles
Conrad Aiken -God's acre-
2006-05-18 15:56:00 God's acreConrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978)In Memory Of. In Fondest Recollection Of.In Loving Memory Of. In FondRemembrance. Died in October. Died at Sea.Who died at sea? The ñame of the seaportEscapes her, gone, blown with the eastwind, overThe tombs and yews, into the apple orchard,Over the road, where gleams a wagon-top,And gone. The eastwind gallops up from seaBringing salt and gulls. The marsh smell, too,Strong in September; mud and reeds, the reedsRattling like bones.She shifts the grass-clipperFrom right to left hand, clips and clips the grass.The broken column, carefully broken, on whichThe blackbird hen is laughing - in fondest memory.Burden! Who was this Burden, to be remembered?Or Potter? The Potter rejected by the Pot.'Here lies Josephus Burden, who departedThis life the fourth of August, nineteen hundred."And He Said Come." ' Joseph Burden, forty,Gross, ribald, with strong hands on which grew hair,And red ears kinked with, hair, and northblue eyesHeld in one hand a h...
By: Poemas en ingles
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