The illustration
is nothing to you without the application.
You lack half wit. You crush all the particles down
into close conformity, and then walk back and forth on them.
Sparkling chips of rock
are crushed down to the level of the parent block.
Were not ‘impersonal judment in aesthetic
matters, a metaphysical impossibility,’ you
might fairly achieve
it. As for butterflies, I can hardly conceive
of one’s attending upon you, but to question
the congruence of the complement is vain, if it exists.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- City Times and Other Poems
- Written In March by William Wordsworth
- Twelve Years by Paul Celan
- On Receiving Heyne’s Virgil From Mr. Hayley by William Cowper
- To Lily poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Шекспир – День без тебя казался ночью – Сонет 43
- Владимир Степанов – Яхта (Буква Я)
- Angels by Russell Edson
- Francesca poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Владимир Маяковский – Все буржуи мчат на помощь Врангелю… (РОСТА №410)
- Money, for a Decent Human Life without You by Mike Yuan
- An Ode to the Queen by William Topaz McGonagall
- Robert Burns: Second Epistle To J. Lapraik:
- Gleaners Of Fame poem – Alfred Austin
- Stir in Stillness by Shruti Talnikar
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
