Pass not beneath, O Caravan, or pass not singing. Have you heard
That silence where the birds are dead yet something pipeth like a bird?
We men of this age are rotten with book-lore and with a yearning for the past.
James Elroy FleckerTags: nostalgia literature decadent
We travel not for trafficking alone;
By hotter winds our hearts are fanned:
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We take the Golden Road to Samarkand.
Tags: traveling
Thy impudence has a monstrous beauty, like the hindquarters of an elephant.
James Elroy FleckerPage 1 of 1.
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