Short Poems

Dusting off the board, I sit down happily to play.
Putting aside my brush, I'm too lazy to write poems.
When the spirit moves me, I invite a friend for a game;
lost in thought, we linger over every move.
Vertical and horizontal formations: this is how to pass the day.
Victory, defeat: can take place in an instant!
The path of a career is like the paths of this game:
you yourself don't recognize the critical moments.

To the mizen, the main, & the fore,
Up with it once more,
The old tricolor,
The ribbon of power,
The white, blue, & red, which the nations adore.

Thou shalt make thy house-
The temple of a nation's vows
Spirits of a higher strain
Who sought thee once shall seek again
I detected many a god
Forth already on the road
Ancestors of beauty come
In thy breast to make a home

This day my Julia thou must make
For Mistresse Bride, the wedding Cake:
Knead but the Dow and it will be
To paste of Almonds turn'd by thee:
Or kisse it thou, but once, or twice,
And for the Bride-Cake ther'l be Spice.

The codfish lays a million eggs,
The helpful hen lays one.
The codfish makes no fuss of its achievement,
The hen boasts what she's done.
We forget the gentle codfish,
The hen we eulogise;
Which teaches us this lesson that--
It pays to advertise!

Through all the mystery of my years,
There runs a purpose which forbids of the wail
Of passionate despair. I have not lived
At random, as a soul whom God forsakes;
But evermore his spirit led me on,
Prompted each purpose, taught my lips to speak,
Stirred up within me that deep love, and now
Reveals the inner secret.

The stormy winds of yesterday
The maple branches shook;
And see! a mass of crimson leaves
Has lodged within that nook,
And choked the mountain brook.

The dawn was apple-green,
The sky was green wine held up in the sun,
The moon was a golden petal between.

She opened her eyes, and green
They shone, clear like flowers undone
For the first time, now for the first time seen.

Natives are all inside the houses
In the hot sun I walked alone
A lizard on a drainage tile
Shining eggplants
Burning violets.
The hot sand on a violet leaf
pours onto the back of my hand
Ceylon's ancient past.

Out goes the rat,
Out goes the cat,
Out goes the lady
With the big green hat.
Y, O, U, spells you;
O, U, T, spells out!