Town, a town ...
Town, a town,
Over which the sun as it comes to it;
Which cools, houses and lamp-posts,
during the night, with the roads—
Inhabited partly by those
Who have been born here,
Houses built—. From a train one sees
him in the morning, his morning;
Him in the afternoon, straightening—
People everywhere, time and the work
One moves between reading and re-reading,
The shape is a moment.
From a crowd a white powdered face,
Eyes and mouth making three—
Near your eyes—
Love at the pelvis
Reaches the generic, gratuitous
(Your eyes like snail-tracks)
We slide in separate hard grooves
Bowstrings to bent loins,
Your spiral women
By a fountain
Your picture lasts thru us
Thick with succession of civilizations;
And the women.
No interval of manner
Your body in the sun.
You? A solid, this that the dress
Your face unaccented, your mouth a mouth?
It is you who truly
Excel the vegetable,
The fitting of grasses—more bare than
Pointedly bent, your elbow on a car-edge
Incognito as summer
‘O city ladies’
Your coats wrapped,
Your hips a possession
Your shoes arched
Your walk is sharp
Pertain to lingerie
The fields are road-sides,
Rooms outlast you.
The cars pass
By the elevated posts
And the movie sign.
A man sells post-cards.
It brightens up into the branches
And against the same buildings
His job is as regular.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Town, a town ... by George Oppen )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- My Translations!, Varanasi Ramabrahmam
- It's an illusion, Gopikrishnan Nair
- Rest in my book of brook:, binod bastola
- Rascal, Mandolyn ...
- The Homecoming, Gopikrishnan Nair
- A Blanket of Starz! is a Goodnight~, Monk E. Biz
- Investing In Banks Or Companies Beware, Terence G. Craddock
- putin and napoleon, co the skipper
- Poet And Poem, Ruma Chaudhuri
- My Dream, Kripa Bhardwaj