Cherry Blossoms
The essence of their beauty Is that it dies away So exquisitely quickly. How could one possibly pay Even respect to a flower in flower Day upon day upon day?......
Agony
What agony, our dream-encounters. Can you not understand How pitiably a man is torn, How utterly unmanned, To wake with hands stretched out for one Beyond all reach of hand?......
We Parted; But, Half-hoping She Might Perhaps Relent, She...
perhaps have spoken words She had not really meant, Over my shoulder, now and then, I looked back as I went. Anon (late 7th-century)......
Time For The Return Of The Native
Teresa Waugh TOUJOURS PROVENCE by Peter Mayle Hamish Hamilton, £13.99, pp. 213 0 h dear, oh dear, oh dear, where do I begin? For I too have lived in France and come away from it......
No. I Shall Not Die For Love. I Lack The
discipline To face the waves and drown in them. My nature is to spin Around and around like a grain of sand Whenever a tide flows in. Anon (late 7th-century)......
No
It's not because I'm now too old, More wizened than you'd guess. . . If I say no, it's only Because I fear that yes Would bring me nothing in the end But a fiercer loneliness.......
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