Mountain flowers open in our faces.
You and I are triply lost in wine.
I’m drunk, my friend, sleepy. Rise and go.
With your dawn lute, return, if you wish, and stay.
confused dreams of love
morning memories of past
hours to my awakening
deep whispers of the arriving dawn
song of impenetrable solitude
All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,
Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.
But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people,
For they dream their dreams with open eyes,
And make them come true.
Draped in stores of knowledge,
The points of the verses
That Lalla sang, became,
Organic parts of her heart and soul;
Her self-consciousness awakened
And removed all doubts of death.
893
Drab Habitation of Whom?
Tabernacle or Tomb—
Or Dome of Worm—
Or Porch of Gnome—
Or some Elf's Catacomb?
Solguden hver en Aften viger
Og i sin vaade Seng nedstiger,
Dog staaer hver Dag han aarle op. -
Ha, paa min Sjæl! en Dranker brøelte,
Hvis Viin i Vandets Sted han føelte,
Saa stod han ei for Middag op!
a river bank~
dragons on the carpet
bask under the sun
Down they go!
Hail and snow!
Freezes and sneezes and noses will blow!
Down the stream the swans all glide;
It's quite the cheapest way to ride.
Their legs get wet,
Their tummies wetter:
I think after all
The bus is better
'My stomach's full of butterflies!'
lamented Dora Diller.
Her mother sighed. 'That's no surprise,
you ate a caterpillar!'
