Posts tagged hilda doolittle.

Pales,
bring gifts,
bring your Phoenician stuffs,
and do you, fleet-footed nymphs,
bring offerings,
Illyrian iris,
and a branch of shrub,
and frail-headed poppies.

H.D., from ‘Acon’.

#H.D.  #Hilda Doolittle  #Acon  
∞  November 14, 2012
1 note

We forgot—for a moment
tree-resin, tree-bark,
sweat of a torn branch
were sweet to the taste.

We were enchanted with the fields,
the tufts of coarse grass
in the shorter grass—
we loved all this.

H.D. from ‘The Helmsman’.

#H.D.  #Hilda Doolittle  #tree  #forest  #enchanted  
∞  October 29, 2012
8 notes

You are as gold
as the half-ripe grain
that merges to gold again,
as white as the white rain
that beats through
the half-opened flowers
of the great flower tufts
thick on the black limbs
of an Illyrian apple bough.

H.D. from ‘Song’.

#gold  #grain  #white  #rain  #flowers  #H.D.  #Hilda Doolittle  #Illyrian  #song  
∞  October 26, 2012
4 notes

O rough hewn
god of the orchard,
I bring you an offering—
do you, alone unbeautiful,
son of the god,
spare us from loveliness:

these fallen hazel-nuts,
stripped late of their green sheaths,
grapes, red-purple,
their berries
dripping with wine,
pomegranates already broken,
and shrunken figs
and quinces untouched,
I bring you as offering.

Hilda Doolittle, from ‘Orchard’.

#Hilda Doolittle  #orchard  #god  #offering  #poetry  #H.D.  
∞  August 05, 2012
4 notes

Dryads
haunting the groves,
nereids
who dwell in wet caves,
for all the white leaves of olive-branch,
and early roses,
and ivy wreaths, woven gold berries,
which she once brought to your altars,
bear now ripe fruits from Arcadia,
and Assyrian wine
to shatter her fever.

Hilda Doolittle, from ‘Acon’.

#Acon  #Hilda Doolittle  #Imagist  #poetry  
∞  July 24, 2012
11 notes

The cornel-buds are still white,
but shadows dart
from the cornel-roots -
black creeps from root to root
each leaf
cuts another leaf on the grass,
shadow seeks shadow,
then both leaf
and leaf-shadow are lost.

Hilda Doolittle, from ‘Evening’.

#evening  #leaves  #shadow  #cornel  #grass  #Hilda Doolittle  #H.D.  
∞  July 12, 2012
8 notes

The poplar is bright on the hill,
the poplar spreads out,
deep-rooted among trees.

O poplar, you are great among the hill-stones,
while I perish on the path
among the crevices of the rocks.

Hilda Doolittle, from ‘Mid-day’.

#H.D.  #Hilda Doolittle  #mid-day  #poplar  #hill-stones  #rocks  
∞  June 13, 2012
2 notes

We forgot—we worshipped,
we parted green from green,
we sought further thickets,
we dipped our ankles
through leaf-mould and earth,
and wood and wood-bank enchanted us.

Hilda Doolittle, from ‘The Helmsman’.

#H.D.  #Hilda Doolittle  #woods  #worship  #green  #earth  #thickets  #enchantment  
∞  June 12, 2012
15 notes

But we bring violets,
great masses—single, sweet,
wood-violets, stream-violets,
violets from a wet marsh.

Violets in clumps from hills,
tufts with earth at the roots,
violets tugged from rocks,
blue violets, moss, cliff, river-violets.

Yellow violets’ gold,
burnt with a rare tint—
violets like red ash
among tufts of grass.

We bring deep-purple
bird-foot violets.

We bring the hyacinth-violet,
sweet, bare, chill to the touch—
and violets whiter than the in-rush
of your own white surf.

Hilda Doolittle, from ‘Sea Gods’.

#Hilda Doolittle  #Sea Gods  #violets  #sea  #gods  #ocean  #poetry  
∞  June 08, 2012
8 notes

Bear me to Dictaeus,
and to the steep slopes;
to the river Erymanthus.

I choose spray of dittany,
cyperum, frail of flower,
buds of myrrh,
all-healing herbs,
close pressed in calathes.

Hilda Doolittle, from ‘Acon’. 

#Hilda Doolittle  #Acon  #poetry  #dittany  #cyperum  #myrrh  
∞  June 06, 2012
1 note