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You are wind in a stark tree, you are the stark tree unbent, you are a strung bow, you are an arrow.

Hilda Doolittle

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Hilda Doolittle
Dancing
Wind
Strung
Tree
Starks
Stark
Arrow
Arrows
Bows
Dancer

More quotes by Hilda Doolittle

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Could beauty be beaten out, O youth the cities have sent to strike at each other's strength, it is you who have kept her alight.
Hilda Doolittle
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War is a fevered god who takes alike maiden and king and clod.
Hilda Doolittle
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There is no man can take, there is no pool can slake, ultimately I am alone ultimately I am done.
Hilda Doolittle
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Take what the old-church found in Mithra's tomb, candle and script and bell, take what the new-church spat upon and broke and shattered.
Hilda Doolittle
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I will be free, no lover's kiss to bind me to earth, no bliss of love to counteract actual bliss.
Hilda Doolittle
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Lift up our eyes to you? no, God, we stare and stare, upon a nearer thing that greets us here, Death, violent and near.
Hilda Doolittle
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Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
Hilda Doolittle
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The whole white world is ours.
Hilda Doolittle
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War wreaked on you his hideous ravishment We, we alone, Nereids inviolate, Remain to weep, with the sea-birds to chant: Corinth is lost, Corinth is desolate.
Hilda Doolittle
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But beauty is set apart, beauty is cast by the sea, a barren rock, beauty is set about with wrecks of ships.
Hilda Doolittle
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The fallen hazel-nuts, Stripped late of their green sheaths, The grapes, red-purple, Their berries Dripping with wine, Pomegranates already broken, And shrunken fig, And quinces untouched, I bring thee as offering.
Hilda Doolittle
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Cheat me not with time, with the dull ache of flesh, for all flesh turns, even the loveliest ankle and frail thigh, to bitterest dust.
Hilda Doolittle
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When the shingles hissed in the rain incendiary, other values were revealed to us
Hilda Doolittle
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I spit honey out of my mouth: nothing is second-best after the sweet of Eros.
Hilda Doolittle
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Maid of the luminous grey-eyes, Mistress of honey and marble implacable white thighs and Goddess, chaste daughter of Zeus.
Hilda Doolittle
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Until it seems the whole city will be covered with gold pollen shaken from the bell-towers, lilies plundered with the weight of massive bees . . .
Hilda Doolittle
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I testify to rainbow feathers, to the span of heaven and walls of colour, the colonnades of jasper.
Hilda Doolittle
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The things I have are nameless, old and true they may not be named few may live and know.
Hilda Doolittle
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Not God with wine, nor death, nor hate for a cry, but God with a song
Hilda Doolittle
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Pompeii has nothing to teach us, we know crack of volcanic fissure, slow flow of terrible lava, pressure on heart, lungs, the brain about to burst its brittle case (what the skull can endure!)
Hilda Doolittle