demonstrating their talent for comedy-stroke
With a hand freed from weight,
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
Preface to the 1970 Edition
and turn it into something cartoon-funny.
Calling me to you with wild gesturings
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
Swaying in unison beneath the snow,
Preface to the 1948 Edition
"Now it’s my turn to sing!"
XX. To the Pole
The bees are buzzing,
What can we know of whatever picture-plane
Père and Mère Chose could be in conversation
That desire has ever built, have approached
So you can watch me watch uplifted snow
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
Over the chilly dale.
-The place the road ends, that patch of white paint
With a hand freed from weight,
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
Preface to the 1970 Edition
and turn it into something cartoon-funny.
Calling me to you with wild gesturings
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
Swaying in unison beneath the snow,
Preface to the 1948 Edition
"Now it’s my turn to sing!"
XX. To the Pole
The bees are buzzing,
What can we know of whatever picture-plane
Père and Mère Chose could be in conversation
That desire has ever built, have approached
So you can watch me watch uplifted snow
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
Over the chilly dale.
-The place the road ends, that patch of white paint
