Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“Name me no names for my disease,
With uninforming breath;
I tell you I am none of these,
But homesick unto death —Homesick for hills that I had known,
For brooks that I had crossed,
...Before I met this flesh and bone
And followed and was lost� .And though they break my heart at last,
Yet name no name of ills.
Say only, "Here is where he passed,
Seeking again those hills.”
― Witter Bynner, Grenstone Poems: A Sequence

“She never moved in pieces
like a mosaic
She moved whole like a sculpture

But it was next to impossible
With her limited means
even if she had started

And besides
They were watching”
― Witter Bynner, New Poems 1960