Don Yorty

La Géante (The Giantess) par Charles Baudelaire

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Primavera Amarilla por Juan Ramón Jiménez

… Abril venía, lleno todo de flores amarillas: amarillo el arroyo, amarillo el vallado, la colina, el cementerio de los niños, el huerto aquel, donde el amor vivía. El sol ungía de amarillo el mundo, con sus luces caídas; ¡ay, … Continue reading →

from Poesia en verso (1917 – 20) por Juan Ramón Jiménez, 1

6 Jun ’15

… 1 Alrededor de la copa dél árbol alto, mis sueños están volando. Son palomas, coronados de luces puras que, al volar, derraman música ¡Cómo entran, cómo salen del árbol solo! !Cómo me enredan en oro! … … Around the … Continue reading →

Bénédiction par Charles Baudelaire

6 Jun ’15

… Although considered by many to be the first book of modern poetry, a lot of the poems in Les Fleurs du Mal seem over the top today, and not very modern at all. Take Benediction, the first poem in … Continue reading →

Catullus 13

5 Jun ’15

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Au Lecteur

2 Jun ’15

… La sottise, l’erreur, le péché, la lésine, Occupent nos esprits et travaillent nos corps, Et nous alimentons nos aimables remords, Comme les mendiants nourrissent leur vermine. Nos péchés sont têtus, nos repentirs sont lâches; Nous nous faisons payer grassement … Continue reading →

L’Ennemi par Charles Baudelaire

31 May ’15

… Ma jeunesse ne fut qu’un ténébreux orage, Traversé çà et là par de brillants soleils; Le tonnerre et la pluie ont fait un tel ravage, Qu’il reste en mon jardin bien peu de fruits vermeils. Voilà que j’ai touché … Continue reading →

87

31 May ’15

… She completely sparkles, the girl talking to her father in a conversation that must be a little funny because she starts to laugh as well as talk, talking of her final destination perhaps leaving this very morning on a … Continue reading →

167

28 May ’15

… The butterflies have been here through it all my sadness and my happiness as well. No matter what is going on or how I feel at the very center of my poor self is a wanting to be filled … Continue reading →

168

25 May ’15

… “You are the flower and I am the grass,” the young man says to the young woman. “I am the flower and you are the grass,” the young woman says to the young man. “You are a bird and … Continue reading →

139 & 140

24 May ’15

… There are rice paddies and the lotus pools the farmer in the field, his little dog gone jumping through the stalks, the plodding ox the low houses with terra cotta roofs the sleeping teachers sprawling in the bus and … Continue reading →

212

21 May ’15

… The night comes with a chill not on but in my skin—A spider web at the end of summer stretches in the wind. Decayed dock swaying with my weight sways and sways. Water spiders molest a fallen fly whose … Continue reading →