May a man live well-, and long-enough, to leave many joyful widows behind him.
Roman PayneMots clés humor men women humour funny living dying widows roman payne
Did I live the spring I’d sought?
It’s true in joy, I walked along,
took part in dance,
and sang the song.
and never tried to bind an hour
to my borrowed garden bower;
nor did I once entreat
a day to slumber at my feet.
Yet days aren’t lulled by lyric song,
like morning birds they pass along,
o’er crests of trees, to none belong;
o’er crests of trees of drying dew,
their larking flight, my hands, eschew
Thus I’ll say it once and true…
From all that I saw,
and everywhere I wandered,
I learned that time cannot be spent,
It only can be squandered.
Mots clés poetry dance time living song spring verse roman soliloquy rhymes payne rhyming-verse poesie rooftop springtime
I like the posture, but not the yoga.
I like the inebriated morning, but not the opium. I like the flower but not the garden, the moment but not the dream. Quiet, my love. Be still. I am sleeping.
Mots clés love poetry silence sleep dreams morning yoga moments flower garden roman quietness opium posture payne
Rich will be my life if I
can keep my memories full
and brimming, and record
them on clear-eyed
mornings while I set
joyously to work setting
pen to holy craft.
Mots clés life success writing writers work memories craft roman novelist payne novel-writing rooftop-soliloquy succeeding
When he nodded, the physician disappeared into thin air, and then a moment later, Payne felt a warm palm encompass hers. It was Vishous's un-gloved hand against her own and the connection between them eased her in ways she couldn't name. Verily, she had lost her mother . . . but if she lived through this, she still had family. On this side.
J.R. WardMots clés brother vishous sister payne
Sister," he murmured, not as an inquiry, but a statement of fact. "Brother mine," she groaned... before her consciousness slipped from her grasp and she drifted away. But she would come back to him. One way or the other, she would not leave her twin ever again.
J.R. WardMots clés brother vishous sister payne
The male's diamond eyes locked on Payne, and though she hadn't seen him in forever, she knew who he was. Sure as if she was staring at her own reflection. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes for last she had known, he breathed no longer. "Vishous," she whispered desperately. "Oh, brother mine...
J.R. WardMots clés brother vishous sister payne
English:
Ô, take this eager dance you fool,
don’t brandish your stick at me.
I have several reasons to travel on,
on to the endless sea:
I have lost my love. I’ve drunk my purse.
My girl has gone, and left me rags to sleep upon.
These old man’s gloves conceal the hands with which I’ve killed but one!
Francais:
Idiot, prends cette danse ardente, au lieu de tendre ton bâton.
J'en ai des raisons de voyager encore sur la mer infinie:
J'ai perdu l'amour et j'ai bu ma bourse.
Ma belle m'a quitté, j'ai ses haillons pour m'abriter.
Mes gants de vieillard cachent les mains d'un fameux assassin!
Mots clés poetry english roman payne francais roman-payne poesie the-basement-trains
We rode the basement trains all night, speeding through the subterrains. I held her chin in the cup of my hand and her eyes held tight to mine, imploring me to reveal to her the mystery of that which awaits us on the pavement above, come the day we ascend from this labyrinth of trains... 'We will ride these beautiful basement trains forever,' said I, 'nothing awaits us; and as your beauty folds, so do my dreams. Come, my love, let us wander these tunnels of the endless city. This holy, endless city!
Roman PayneMots clés love payne roman-payne the-basement-trains
Be there a picnic for the devil,
an orgy for the satyr,
and a wedding for the bride.
Mots clés devil poetry poem roman bride weddings satyrs payne roman-payne picnic
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