Hölderlin’s shopping bag - by
Poetry object
Poetry object
I’ve made my own Museum of / Happiness, which isn’t built of brick / or stone or wood…
In the trees above me
/ The blackbird sings
/ As I sit here at my table
/ With my books and my writing things.
/
/ A…
In Chile now, cherries are dancing,
/ the dark, secretive girls are singing,
/ and in guitars, water is shining.
/
/ The sun is touching every…
Happy is the man who knows that little is more than enough.
/ He is deaf to the hindrance of plenty.
/ He herds,…
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