Conrad Potter Aiken
Conrad Potter Aiken Poems
|121.||The House Of Dust: Part 02: 11: Snow Falls. The Sky Is Grey, And Sullenly Glares||1/1/2004|
|124.||A Letter From Li Po||1/1/2004|
|125.||Improvisations: Light And Snow||1/3/2003|
|126.||Evening Song Of Senlin||1/1/2004|
|128.||Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise The Rain||1/1/2004|
|129.||Music I Heard||1/1/2004|
|131.||All Lovely Things||1/3/2003|
Comments about Conrad Potter Aiken
While the blue noon above us arches,
And the poplar sheds disconsolate leaves,
Tell me again why love bewitches,
And what love gives.
It is the trembling finger that traces
The eyebrow’s curve, the curve of the cheek?
The mouth that quivers, when the hand caresses,
But cannot speak?
No, not these, not in these is hidden
The secret, more than in other things:
Not only the touch of a hand can gladden
Till the blood sings.
It is the leaf that falls between us,
The bells that murmur, the shadows that move,
The autumnal sunlight that fades upon ...
Morning Song Of Senlin
It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning
When the light drips through the shutters like the dew,
I arise, I face the sunrise,
And do the things my fathers learned to do.
Stars in the purple dusk above the rooftops
Pale in a saffron mist and seem to die,
And I myself on a swiftly tilting planet
Stand before a glass and tie my tie.
Vine leaves tap my window,