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Interregnum
A queen's brief flaming left
those ruined palace walls
these peacocks strutting them at dusk
One calls
hideous with what its thousand eyes that cry
in coming night behold.
Poems on the topic: peacock
Poems on the topic “peacock” on Poets.by.
Domination of Black
At night, by the fire,
The colors of the bushes
And of the fallen leaves,
Repeating themselves,
Turned in the room,
Like the leaves themselves
Turning in the wind.
Yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks
Came striding.
And I remembered the cry of the peacocks.
The colors of their tails
Were like the leaves themselves
Turning in the wind,
In the twilight wind.
They swept over the room,
Just as they flew from the boughs of the hemlocks
The Peacock
What's riches to him
That has made a great peacock
With the pride of his eye?
The wind-beaten, stone-grey,
And desolate Three-rock
Would nourish his whim.
Live he or die
Amid wet rocks and heather,
His ghost will be gay
Adding feather to feather
For the pride of his eye.
What Dream-Peacock, This Moon
What dream-peacock, this moon.
With voice of silence,
Bejeweled with the golden stars,
With its spread fan, the tree —
What dance, this?
What rain-cloud hath it seen
In the sky of night's intangibility?
Yoshiwara Lament
Golden peacocks
Under blossoming cherry-trees.
But on all the wide sea
There is no boat.
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