Francis Jammes Poems
|1.||Summer Of Roses||11/8/2012|
|2.||In The Foliage||11/8/2012|
|3.||You Would Be Naked||11/8/2012|
|4.||The Farmer's Daughter||11/8/2012|
|6.||By The Yawning Door||11/8/2012|
|7.||There Are Days In June||11/8/2012|
|8.||With Feet At The Fire||11/8/2012|
|9.||The Old Village||11/8/2012|
|11.||Madame De Warens||11/8/2012|
|13.||I Love ...||11/8/2012|
|14.||Prayer To Go To Paradise With The Asses||11/8/2012|
|15.||The Forest Paths||11/8/2012|
|16.||The Dead Child||11/8/2012|
|17.||Do Not Console Me||11/8/2012|
|18.||You Come When The Sun Sinks Low||11/8/2012|
|19.||The Cricket's Song||11/8/2012|
|20.||It Is Going To Snow||11/8/2012|
It Is Going To Snow
It is going to snow in a few days. I remember
This time last year. My heart, O how it bled!
Had I been asked: 'What ails thee?' I should have said:
'Nothing. Leave me alone. It is December.'
O those bad thoughts! I had no good of them,
This time last year when heavy snow was cloaking
The world outside. And now as then I am smoking
A pipe of briar-wood with an amber stem.
And still my old oak chest of drawers smells good.
But I was foolish, for these things can never
Be changed, and they do only pose as clever
Who drives away the things bred in their ...
By The Yawning Door
By the yawning door, thick and studded and painted in green,
I saw a square of light which fell
On a budding branch. And I made these verses
To fix the moment of a dream
As I sat at the table, eating beans
With the ghosts of my mother and my wife,
But that life with its long flame burned out long ago,
Leaving only a black and white, solitary lily
On the floor.