DREAM VARIATIONSDREAM VARIATIONSTo fling my arms wideIn some place of the sun,To whirl and to danceTill the white day is done.Then rest at cool eveningBeneath a tall treeWhile night comes on gently,Dark like me,—That is my dream!To fling my arms wideIn the face of the sun,Dance! whirl! whirl!Till the quick day is done.Rest at pale evening....A tall, slim tree....Night coming tenderlyBlack like me.WINTER MOONHow thin and sharp is the moon tonight!How thin and sharp and ghostly whiteIs the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!POÈME D’AUTOMNEThe autumn leavesAre too heavy with color.The slender treesOn the Vulcan RoadAre dressed in scarlet and goldLike young courtesansWaiting for their lovers.But soonThe winter windsWill strip their bodies bareAnd thenThe sharp, sleet-stungCaresses of the coldWill be their onlyLove.FANTASY IN PURPLEBeat the drums of tragedy for me.Beat the drums of tragedy and death.And let the choir sing a stormy songTo drown the rattle of my dying breath.Beat the drums of tragedy for me,And let the white violins whir thin and slow,But blow one blaring trumpet note of sunTo go with meto the darknesswhere I go.MARCH MOONThe moon is naked.The wind has undressed the moon.The wind has blown all the cloud-garmentsOff the body of the moonAnd now she’s naked,Stark naked.But why don’t you blush,O shameless moon?Don’t you knowIt isn’t nice to be naked?JOYI went to look for Joy,Slim, dancing Joy,Gay, laughing Joy,Bright-eyed Joy,—And I found herDriving the butcher’s cartIn the arms of the butcher boy!Such company, such company,As keeps this young nymph, Joy!
DREAM VARIATIONS
DREAM VARIATIONSTo fling my arms wideIn some place of the sun,To whirl and to danceTill the white day is done.Then rest at cool eveningBeneath a tall treeWhile night comes on gently,Dark like me,—That is my dream!To fling my arms wideIn the face of the sun,Dance! whirl! whirl!Till the quick day is done.Rest at pale evening....A tall, slim tree....Night coming tenderlyBlack like me.
To fling my arms wideIn some place of the sun,To whirl and to danceTill the white day is done.Then rest at cool eveningBeneath a tall treeWhile night comes on gently,Dark like me,—That is my dream!To fling my arms wideIn the face of the sun,Dance! whirl! whirl!Till the quick day is done.Rest at pale evening....A tall, slim tree....Night coming tenderlyBlack like me.
To fling my arms wideIn some place of the sun,To whirl and to danceTill the white day is done.Then rest at cool eveningBeneath a tall treeWhile night comes on gently,Dark like me,—That is my dream!To fling my arms wideIn the face of the sun,Dance! whirl! whirl!Till the quick day is done.Rest at pale evening....A tall, slim tree....Night coming tenderlyBlack like me.
To fling my arms wideIn some place of the sun,To whirl and to danceTill the white day is done.Then rest at cool eveningBeneath a tall treeWhile night comes on gently,Dark like me,—That is my dream!
To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me,—
That is my dream!
To fling my arms wideIn the face of the sun,Dance! whirl! whirl!Till the quick day is done.Rest at pale evening....A tall, slim tree....Night coming tenderlyBlack like me.
To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! whirl! whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening....
A tall, slim tree....
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.
WINTER MOONHow thin and sharp is the moon tonight!How thin and sharp and ghostly whiteIs the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!
How thin and sharp is the moon tonight!How thin and sharp and ghostly whiteIs the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!
How thin and sharp is the moon tonight!How thin and sharp and ghostly whiteIs the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!
How thin and sharp is the moon tonight!How thin and sharp and ghostly whiteIs the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!
How thin and sharp is the moon tonight!
How thin and sharp and ghostly white
Is the slim curved crook of the moon tonight!
POÈME D’AUTOMNEThe autumn leavesAre too heavy with color.The slender treesOn the Vulcan RoadAre dressed in scarlet and goldLike young courtesansWaiting for their lovers.But soonThe winter windsWill strip their bodies bareAnd thenThe sharp, sleet-stungCaresses of the coldWill be their onlyLove.
The autumn leavesAre too heavy with color.The slender treesOn the Vulcan RoadAre dressed in scarlet and goldLike young courtesansWaiting for their lovers.But soonThe winter windsWill strip their bodies bareAnd thenThe sharp, sleet-stungCaresses of the coldWill be their onlyLove.
The autumn leavesAre too heavy with color.The slender treesOn the Vulcan RoadAre dressed in scarlet and goldLike young courtesansWaiting for their lovers.But soonThe winter windsWill strip their bodies bareAnd thenThe sharp, sleet-stungCaresses of the coldWill be their onlyLove.
The autumn leavesAre too heavy with color.The slender treesOn the Vulcan RoadAre dressed in scarlet and goldLike young courtesansWaiting for their lovers.But soonThe winter windsWill strip their bodies bareAnd thenThe sharp, sleet-stungCaresses of the coldWill be their onlyLove.
The autumn leaves
Are too heavy with color.
The slender trees
On the Vulcan Road
Are dressed in scarlet and gold
Like young courtesans
Waiting for their lovers.
But soon
The winter winds
Will strip their bodies bare
And then
The sharp, sleet-stung
Caresses of the cold
Will be their only
Love.
FANTASY IN PURPLEBeat the drums of tragedy for me.Beat the drums of tragedy and death.And let the choir sing a stormy songTo drown the rattle of my dying breath.Beat the drums of tragedy for me,And let the white violins whir thin and slow,But blow one blaring trumpet note of sunTo go with meto the darknesswhere I go.
Beat the drums of tragedy for me.Beat the drums of tragedy and death.And let the choir sing a stormy songTo drown the rattle of my dying breath.Beat the drums of tragedy for me,And let the white violins whir thin and slow,But blow one blaring trumpet note of sunTo go with meto the darknesswhere I go.
Beat the drums of tragedy for me.Beat the drums of tragedy and death.And let the choir sing a stormy songTo drown the rattle of my dying breath.Beat the drums of tragedy for me,And let the white violins whir thin and slow,But blow one blaring trumpet note of sunTo go with meto the darknesswhere I go.
Beat the drums of tragedy for me.Beat the drums of tragedy and death.And let the choir sing a stormy songTo drown the rattle of my dying breath.
Beat the drums of tragedy for me.
Beat the drums of tragedy and death.
And let the choir sing a stormy song
To drown the rattle of my dying breath.
Beat the drums of tragedy for me,And let the white violins whir thin and slow,But blow one blaring trumpet note of sunTo go with meto the darknesswhere I go.
Beat the drums of tragedy for me,
And let the white violins whir thin and slow,
But blow one blaring trumpet note of sun
To go with me
to the darkness
where I go.
MARCH MOONThe moon is naked.The wind has undressed the moon.The wind has blown all the cloud-garmentsOff the body of the moonAnd now she’s naked,Stark naked.But why don’t you blush,O shameless moon?Don’t you knowIt isn’t nice to be naked?
The moon is naked.The wind has undressed the moon.The wind has blown all the cloud-garmentsOff the body of the moonAnd now she’s naked,Stark naked.But why don’t you blush,O shameless moon?Don’t you knowIt isn’t nice to be naked?
The moon is naked.The wind has undressed the moon.The wind has blown all the cloud-garmentsOff the body of the moonAnd now she’s naked,Stark naked.But why don’t you blush,O shameless moon?Don’t you knowIt isn’t nice to be naked?
The moon is naked.The wind has undressed the moon.The wind has blown all the cloud-garmentsOff the body of the moonAnd now she’s naked,Stark naked.
The moon is naked.
The wind has undressed the moon.
The wind has blown all the cloud-garments
Off the body of the moon
And now she’s naked,
Stark naked.
But why don’t you blush,O shameless moon?Don’t you knowIt isn’t nice to be naked?
But why don’t you blush,
O shameless moon?
Don’t you know
It isn’t nice to be naked?
JOYI went to look for Joy,Slim, dancing Joy,Gay, laughing Joy,Bright-eyed Joy,—And I found herDriving the butcher’s cartIn the arms of the butcher boy!Such company, such company,As keeps this young nymph, Joy!
I went to look for Joy,Slim, dancing Joy,Gay, laughing Joy,Bright-eyed Joy,—And I found herDriving the butcher’s cartIn the arms of the butcher boy!Such company, such company,As keeps this young nymph, Joy!
I went to look for Joy,Slim, dancing Joy,Gay, laughing Joy,Bright-eyed Joy,—And I found herDriving the butcher’s cartIn the arms of the butcher boy!Such company, such company,As keeps this young nymph, Joy!
I went to look for Joy,Slim, dancing Joy,Gay, laughing Joy,Bright-eyed Joy,—And I found herDriving the butcher’s cartIn the arms of the butcher boy!Such company, such company,As keeps this young nymph, Joy!
I went to look for Joy,
Slim, dancing Joy,
Gay, laughing Joy,
Bright-eyed Joy,—
And I found her
Driving the butcher’s cart
In the arms of the butcher boy!
Such company, such company,
As keeps this young nymph, Joy!