"Songs to Joannes"
[August 1915]
XVI We might have lived together In the lights of the Arno Or gone apple stealing under the sea Or played Hide and seek in love and cobwebs And a lullaby on a tin pan And talked till there were no more tongues To talk with And never have known any better XXV Licking the Arno The little rosy Tongue of Dawn Interferes with our eyelashes We twiddle to it Round and round Faster And turn into machines Till the sun Subsides in shining Melts some of us Into abysmal pigeon-holes Passion has bored In warmth Some few of us Grow to the level of cool plains Cutting our foothold With steel eyes |
The Arno River.
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