Emotions and Feelings

Odi et amo: quare id faciam, fortasse requiris.

 

I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

 

No coward soul is mine,

 

Do you believe in fairies? Say quick that you believe! If you believe, clap your hands!

 

To die will be an awfully big adventure.

 

When the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.

 

Well, my daddy left home when I was three, And didn’t leave much to Ma and me, Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze. Now I don’t blame him because he run and hid, But the meanest thing he ever did was Before he left, he went and named me Sue.

 

I am Goya of the bare field, by the enemy’s beak gouged till the craters of my eyes gape I am grief I am the tongue of war, the embers of cities on the snows of the year 1941 I am hunger

 

I rang them up while touring Timbucktoo, Those bosom chums to whom you’re known as “Who?”

 

Some alien blessing is on its way to us.

 

Of course there is nothing the matter with the stars It is my emptiness among them While they drift farther away in the invisible morning.

 

You came back to us in a dream and we were not here.

 

You came back to us in a dream and we were not here.

 

We were the first that found that famous country: We marched by a king’s name: we crossed the sierras: Unknown hardships we suffered: hunger.

 

One by one forging his laws, to be flung Like horseshoes at the head, the eye, or the groin. And every killing is a treat For the broad-chested Ossete.

 

How beastly the bourgeois is especially the male of the species.

 

Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

 

If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge Driven by invisible blows, The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, we shall find the Hesperides.

 

If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge Driven by invisible blows, The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, we shall find the Hesperides.

 

So hopeless is the world without, The world within I doubly prize; Thy world, where guile and hate and doubt And cold suspicion never rise; Where thou and I and Liberty Have undisputed sovereignty.

 

No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere: I see Heaven’s glories shine, And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.

 

Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?

 

Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?

 

Yes, as my swift days near their goal, ’Tis all that I implore: In life and death a chainless soul, With courage to endure.