The night is beautiful,
So the faces of my people.
The stars are beautiful,
So the eyes of my people.
Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.
A Poet's Death Is His Life Iv
The dark wings of night enfolded the city upon which Nature had spread a pure white garment of snow; and men deserted the streets for their houses in search of warmth, while the north wind probed in contemplation of laying waste the gardens. There in the suburb stood an old hut heavily laden with snow and on the verge of falling. In a dark recess of that hovel was a poor bed in which a dying youth was lying, staring at the dim light of his oil lamp, made to flicker by the entering winds. He a man in the spring of life who foresaw fully that the peaceful hour of freeing himself from the clutches of life was fast nearing. He was awaiting Death's visit gratefully, and upon his pale face appeared the dawn of hope; and on his lops a sorrowful smile; and in his eyes forgiveness.
Honesty is beautiful
Kindness is beautiful
Intelligence is beautiful
Talent is beautiful
Beautiful is a romance with such abundance
Beautiful are the flowers that roam the earth
Beautiful is awaking to the sound of singing birds
Beautiful is a disguise
Playing hide and seek inside and outside
I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper
sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes,
new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind,
and the old things go, not one lasts.
A beautiful singing bird
Imprisoned in a golden cage
Waiting to be freed
Since the hominoid age!
Whats The Use Of A Title?
They don't make it
the beautiful die in flame-
suicide pills, rat poison, rope what-
they rip their arms off,
throw themselves out of windows,
they pull their eyes out of the sockets,
Women sit, or move to and fro- some old,
The young are beautiful- but the old are more beautiful than the
My Beautiful Flower
You are my flower
you are my sweet soft petal
hand in hand
...in my hand
holding this precious gift
the blossom of your beauty
you are my beautiful flower
You are my flower
you are my sweet soft petal
Less time than it takes to say it, less tears than it takes to die; I've taken account of everything,
there you have it. I've made a census of the stones, they are as numerous as my fingers and some
others; I've distributed some pamphlets to the plants, but not all were willing to accept them. I've
kept company with music for a second only and now I no longer know what to think of suicide, for
if I ever want to part from myself, the exit is on this side and, I add mischievously, the entrance, the
I am beautiful
Not only because of the curve of my hips
Or the shape of my body
Not only because of the fullness of my lips
Or the curl of my eye lashes
I am beautiful because I want to be
I am beautiful because God made me that way
I am beautiful because in my eyes
There is no one more beautiful than me
Beautiful city, the centre and crater of European confusion,
O you with your passionate shriek for the rights of an equal
How often your Re-volution has proven but E-volution
Roll'd again back on itself in the tides of a civic insanity!
Here lies a most beautiful lady,
Light of step and heart was she;
I think she was the most beautiful lady
That ever was in the West Country.
But beauty vanishes, beauty passes;
However rare - rare it be;
And when I crumble,who will remember
This lady of the West Country.
Fire On The Hills
The deer were bounding like blown leaves
Under the smoke in front the roaring wave of the brush-fire;
I thought of the smaller lives that were caught.
Beauty is not always lovely; the fire was beautiful, the terror
Of the deer was beautiful; and when I returned
Down the back slopes after the fire had gone by, an eagle
Was perched on the jag of a burnt pine,
Insolent and gorged, cloaked in the folded storms of his shoulders
He had come from far off for the good hunting
With fire for his beater to drive the game; the sky was merciless
Beautiful star with the crimson lips
And flagrant daffodil hair,
Come back, come back, in the shaking ships
O'er the much-overrated sea,
To the hearts that are sick for thee
With a woe worse than mal de mer-
O beautiful stars with the crimson lips
And the flagrant daffodil hair. -
O ship that shakes on the desolate sea,
Neath the flag of the wan White Star,
It rests me to be among beautiful women
Why should one always lie about such matters?
It rests me to converse with beautiful women
Even though we talk nothing but nonsense,
The purring of the invisible antennae
Is both stimulating and delightful.
My Dove, My Beautiful One
My dove, my beautiful one,
The night-dew lies
Upon my lips and eyes.
The odorous winds are weaving
A music of sighs:
My dove, my beautiful one!
A Beautiful Mask Of Smile!
Who has not crossed the bridge of emotions?
Which keeps on flickering?
Day and night like the beautiful stars
Twinkling in the sky,
Though not visible in bright sunlight
It's like the mask of beautiful smiles,
Covering the painful face.
It's like a bird trapped in
Cage sings a painful song
I Am In My Mother's Eyes
That daughter of yours
Who you see
as capable for every thing
You dream your unrealised dreams
Through my eyes
You see me as one
Who progresses ahead
Setting aside all hurdles
The extraordinary patience of things!
This beautiful place defaced with a crop of surburban houses-
How beautiful when we first beheld it,
Unbroken field of poppy and lupin walled with clean cliffs;
No intrusion but two or three horses pasturing,
Or a few milch cows rubbing their flanks on the outcrop rockheads-
Now the spoiler has come: does it care?
Not faintly. It has all time. It knows the people are a tide
That swells and in time will ebb, and all
Their works dissolve. Meanwhile the image of the pristine beauty
My angel is the one who looks over me
My angel is the who cares for me
My angel is the one who loves me
My angel has beautiful brown eyes
My angel has beautiful black hair
My angel will be there when I get hurt
My angel will be the one that is always on my mind
He is the angel that keeps me breathing
He is the angel of my dreams
He is the angel that keeps me alive