Venice masks

Thursday, 11 August 2016

She of the Garden - Emile Verhaeren

In such a spot, with radiant flowers for halo,
I saw the Guardian Angel sit her down;
Vine-branches fashioned a green shrine above her
And sun-flowers rose behind her like a crown.

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

Summer Colours - Fenny Sterenborg

Long curls
lightest blond
like silver and gold
in the saffron sun

Tuesday, 9 August 2016

Mind Games - Dimitris Varos

I am a waterfall in the desert.
A rain from a cloudless sky.
A well known but unborn child.
An insistence experience
that you never had.

Monday, 8 August 2016

The Guardian Angel - Bruna Digregorio

When you have been bathed
in scented water,
when your limbs
have been caressed
by sweet oils

Sunday, 7 August 2016

Poverty Poem - Frank Joussen

It looks like the idyll from the Kipling story.
There are the huts, the dusty field paths,
peopled with sari girls
carrying milk, water, firewood,
the cooking women and the chatting men.
And at night the beast roams freely,
restlessly circling the sleeping village.
But the beast is inside, not outside,

Saturday, 6 August 2016

Naval Engineering - Víctor Rodríguez Núñez

The wheel's star
                            freshly cut
from night's garden

Thursday, 4 August 2016

This Lane - Andrew Young

Years and years and man’s thoughtful foot,
Drip and guttering rains and mute
Shrinkage of snows, and shaggy-hoofed
Horse have sunk this lane tree-roofed
Now patched with blossoming elder,
Wayfaring-tree and guelder;
Lane that eases the sharp-scarped hill
Winding the slope with leisurely will.

Wednesday, 3 August 2016

Lyme Regis – Golden Cap - Anne Ridler

The Cobb curves like a fossil, ridged and gray.
That sickle hook, which once held navies in its crook,
Still shields the town, and reaps the golden stalks
That spring in the wave;

Tuesday, 2 August 2016

Stories of the Armadillo - Fabio Pusterla

Good morning, says the armadillo to a street sweeper. Did you happen
to see an opossum go by?
The man raises his broom towards the north, where a cloud
hovers over the desert like a great mountain. The armadillo
thanks him and sets off against the wind.

Monday, 1 August 2016

To a sea-cliff - Thomas Hardy

Lend me your ear
While I read to you here
A page from your history,
Old cliff — not known
To your solid stone
Yet yours inseparably.