Nathalia Crane Quotes

When you return, the youngest of the seers, Released from fetters of ancestral pose, There will be beauty waiting down the years — Revisions of the ruby and the rose.

The starry brocade of the summer night Is linked to us as part of our estate; And every bee that wings its sidelong flight Assurance of a sweeter, fairer fate.

He found the harem filled with rocking maids Surrendered to the orgies of the sob.

Oh, we have had great lovers that we followed to the pyre; Our boasts out-do the Sabine girls—the Mosque of St. Sophia. And we are very sure of ours, for when a city falls, They seize us and they love us and they hurl us from the walls.

I linger on the flathouse roof, the moonlight is divine. But my heart is all aflutter like the washing on the line.

Finally she faltered; Saw at last, forsooth, Every gaudy color Is a bit of truth. Then the gates were opened; Miracles were seen; That instructed damsel Donned a gown of green; Wore it in a churchyard, All arrayed with care; And a painted rainbow Shone above her there.

Let go the lure The striving to unmake; Behold the truth Whenever heart may ache There is a glory In a great mistake.

Said the tiger to the lily, Said the viper to the rose, Let us marry so our children May attain the double pose. With a feline half a flower — With the attar in the asp We could institute a slaughter That would make a planet gasp.

A precious place is Paradise and none may know its worth, But Eden ever longeth for the knicknacks of the earth. The angels grow quite wistful over worldly things below; They hear the hurdy-gurdies in the Candle Makers Row. They listen for the laughter from the antics of the earth; They lower pails from heaven's walls to catch the milk-maids mirth.

Oh I'm in love with the janitor's boy, And the janitor's boy loves me; He's going to hunt for a desert isle In our geography.

Great is the rose Infected by the tomb, Yet burgeoning Indifferent to death.

The very serpents bite their tails; the bees forget to sting, For a language so celestial setteth up a wondering. And the touch of absent mindedness is more than any line, Since direction counts for nothing when the gods set up a sign.

You cannot choose your battlefield,
God does that for you;
But you can plant a standard
Where a standard never flew.

(From The Colors)

He'll carry me off, I know that he will, For his hair is exceedingly red; And the only thing that occurs to me Is to dutifully shiver in bed.

You cannot choose your battlefield,
God does that for you;
But you can plant a standard
Where a standard never flew. <small> QOTD 2007·11·01 Sound file </small>