Harold Hart Crane: Все стихи поэта

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Interior

It sheds a shy solemnity,

This lamp in our poor room.

O grey and gold amenity, —

Silence and gentle gloom!

Wide from the world, a stolen hour

We claim, and none may know

How love blooms like a tardy flower

Here in the day's after-glow.

by Harold Hart Crane

Voyages VI

Where icy and bright dungeons lift

Of swimmers their lost morning eyes,

And ocean rivers, churning, shift

Green borders under stranger skies,

Steadily as a shell secretes

Its beating leagues of monotone,

Or as many waters trough the sun's

Red kelson past the cape's wet stone;

by Harold Hart Crane

North Labrador

A land of leaning ice

Hugged by plaster-grey arches of sky,

Flings itself silently

Into eternity.

"Has no one come here to win you,

Or left you with the faintest blush

Upon your glittering breasts?

Have you no memories, O Darkly Bright?"

by Harold Hart Crane

Legend

As silent as a mirror is believed

Realities plunge in silence by . . .

I am not ready for repentance;

Nor to match regrets. For the moth

Bends no more than the still

Imploring flame. And tremorous

In the white falling flakes

Kisses are,—

by Harold Hart Crane

Exile

My hands have not touched pleasure since your hands, —

No, — nor my lips freed laughter since 'farewell',

And with the day, distance again expands

Voiceless between us, as an uncoiled shell.

Yet, love endures, though starving and alone.

A dove's wings clung about my heart each night

With surging gentleness, and the blue stone

Set in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright.

by Harold Hart Crane

Voyages V

Meticulous, past midnight in clear rime,

Infrangible and lonely, smooth as though cast

Together in one merciless white blade-

The bay estuaries fleck the hard sky limits.

-As if too brittle or too clear to touch!

The cables of our sleep so swiftly filed,

Already hang, shred ends from remembered stars.

One frozen trackless smile . . . What words

by Harold Hart Crane

The Visible, The Untrue

Yes, I being

the terrible puppet of my dreams, shall

lavish this on you-

the dense mine of the orchid, split in two.

And the fingernails that cinch such

environs?

And what about the staunch neighbor tabulations,

with all their zest for doom?

by Harold Hart Crane

Voyages IV

Whose counted smile of hours and days, suppose

I know as spectrum of the sea and pledge

Vastly now parting gulf on gulf of wings

Whose circles bridge, I know, (from palms to the severe

Chilled albatross's white immutability)

No stream of greater love advancing now

Than, singing, this mortality alone

Through clay aflow immortally to you.

by Harold Hart Crane

Passage

Where the cedar leaf divides the sky

I heard the sea.

In sapphire arenas of the hills

I was promised an improved infancy.

Sulking, sanctioning the sun,

My memory I left in a ravine,-

Casual louse that tissues the buck-wheat,

Aprons rocks, congregates pears

by Harold Hart Crane

Recitative

Regard the capture here, 0 Janus-faced,

As double as the hands that twist this glass.

Such eves at search or rest you cannot see;

Reciting pain or glee, how can you bear!

Twin shadowed halves: the breaking, second holds t,

In each the skin alone, and so it is

I crust a plate of vibrant mercury

Borne cleft to you, and brother in the half.

by Harold Hart Crane

Carrier Letter

My hands have not touched water since your hands, -

No; - nor my lips freed laughter since 'farewell'.

And with the day, distance again expands

Between us, voiceless as an uncoiled shell.

Yet, - much follows, much endures… Trust birds alone:

A dove's wings clung about my heart last night

With surging gentleness; and the blue stone

Set in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright.

by Harold Hart Crane

Voyages II

—And yet this great wink of eternity,

Of rimless floods, unfettered leewardings,

Samite sheeted and processioned where

Her undinal vast belly moonward bends,

Laughing the wrapt inflections of our love;

Take this Sea, whose diapason knells

On scrolls of silver snowy sentences,

The sceptred terror of whose sessions rends

by Harold Hart Crane