Origins Eric Ormsby (1941- ) I wanted to go down to where the roots begin, to find words nested in their almond-skin, the sea-curls of their birth, their sprigs of origin. At night the dead set words upon my tongue, drew back their coverings, laid bare the long sheaths of their roots where the earth still clung. I wanted to draw their words from the mouths of the dead, I wanted to strip the coins from their heavy eyes, I wanted the rosy breath to gladden their skins. At night the dead remembered their origins, at night they nested in the curve of my eyes, and I tasted the savour of their seed-bed. -- Come have a journey with PowLluimniz. 英诗板 --> 雅典娜的神殿 --> 英诗入门 --> 波鲁米尼兹幽冥旅 --

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