William Carlos Williams Poems

I will teach you my townspeople
how to perform a funeral
for you have it over a troop
of artists-
...

Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow!
It is not a color.
It is summer!
It is the wind on a willow,
...

School is over. It is too hot
to walk at ease. At ease
in light frocks they walk the streets
to while the time away.
...

Why do I write today?

The beauty of
the terrible faces
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The little sparrows
hop ingenuously
about the pavement
quarreling
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Sorrow is my own yard
where the new grass
flames as it has flamed
often before but not
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It is cold. The white moon
is up among her scattered stars--
like the bare thighs of
the Police Sergeant's wife--among
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Lady of dusk-wood fastnesses,
Thou art my Lady.
I have known the crisp, splintering leaf-tread with thee on before,
White, slender through green saplings;
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By constantly tormenting them
with reminders of the lice in
their children's hair, the
School Physician first
...

In Breughel's great picture, The Kermess,
the dancers go round, they go round and
around, the squeal and the blare and the
tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and fiddles
...