• Above The White Down Of The Cherries

    Above the white down of the cherries,
    Like blue fire, soaring high,
    Cleaving, weaving pathways, light and
    Swift — a blue-winged butterfly.... more »

  • From 'In The Village'

    Once upon a working day in summer-time
    I passed through a village. In a dreary line
    On both sides of the winding narrow lane, the houses
    Stood there, grey, decayed, like old rags, dull and frowsty;... more »

  • The Weaver-Women Of Slucak

    From native home, from native tillage,
    To the Big House, for beauty's sake,
    Luckless girls taken from their village,
    Girdles of woven gold to make.... more »

  • To S. Palujan

    (Triolet)

    You were, like the moon, alone:
    You lonely lived, you lonely died.
    Though wide the world with people sown,... more »

  • To The Critic

    (Triolet)

    No statues did Cellini hew
    But only statuettes.... more »

  • Venus The Star

    Venus, new-risen above the broad skyline,
    Brings with her bright-shining memories of love.
    Do you recall, when we met for the first time
    Venus new-risen above?... more »