A Collection of Poems

What kind of God would He be if He did not hear the bangles ring on an ant’s wrist

Oh gracious moon, now as the year turns, I remember how, heavy with sorrow, I climbed this hill to gaze on you,

Between going and staying the day wavers, in love with its own transparency. The circular afternoon is now a bay where the world in still...

Dark eyes, wonderful, strange and dear they shone   A moment’s space; And wandering under the white stars I had gone   In a strange place...

There was a young lady named Bright

The head of the protocol department asked What are you involved in We are tired I said

In a country perfumed with the sun’s embrace, I knew ‘neath a dais of purpled palms, And branches where idleness weeps o’er one’s face, A...

The beauteous nymphs then left the sky, Attended by Gandharvas 1 skilled, And joyous notes of drum and shell And sound of cars the blue ...

I speak to you over cities I speak to you over plains

Wald my gud lady lufe me best And wirk eftir my will, I suld ane garmond gudliest Gar mak hir body till.