Nathalia Crane Short Quotes

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

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

Nathalia Crane
Great is the rose
That challenges the crypt,
And quotes milleniums
Against the grave.

Nathalia Crane
Cloud-made mountains towered,
Beckoning to me;
Visionary triremes
Talked about the sea...

Nathalia Crane
A single-motored miracle, a lead mine on each flank;
Below a shadow swept and awed the hundred-fathom bank.

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

Nathalia Crane
The world is growing gentle,
But few know what she owes
To the understanding lily
And the judgment of the rose.

Nathalia Crane
The rose has told In one simplicity.
That never life
Relinquishes a bloom
But to bestow
An ancient confidence.

Nathalia Crane
Across the downs a hummingbird
Came dipping through the bowers,
He pivoted on emptiness
To scrutinize the flowers.

Nathalia Crane
In the darkness, who would answer for the color of a rose,
Or the vestments of the May moth and the pilgrimage it goes?

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

Nathalia Crane
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.

Nathalia Crane
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.

Nathalia Crane
The sun shall shine in ages yet to be,
The musing moon illumine pastures dim,
And afterwards a new nativity
For all who slept the dreamless interim.

Nathalia Crane
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.

Nathalia Crane
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.

Nathalia Crane
Lo and behold! God made this
starry wold,
The maggot and the mold; lo and
behold!
He taught the grass contentment
blade by blade,
The sanctity of sameness in a shade.

Nathalia Crane
Once a pallid Vestal
Doubted truth in blue;
Listed red in ruin,
Harried every hue; Barricaded vision,
Garbed herself in sighs;
Ridiculed the birthmarks
Of the butterflies.

Nathalia Crane