by Ann Stanford

　　My house is torn down——

　　Plaster sifting， the pillars broken，

　　Beams jagged， the wall crushed by the bulldozer．

　　The whole roof has fallen

　　On the hall and the kitchen

　　The bedrooms， the parlor．

　　They are trampling the garden——

　　My mother's lilac， my father's grapevine，

　　The freesias， the jonquils， the grasses．

　　Hot asphalt goes down

　　Over the torn stems， and hardens．

　　What will they do in springtime

　　Those bulbs and stems groping upward

　　That drown in earth under the paving，

　　Thick with sap， pale in the dark

　　As they try the unrolling of green．

　　May they double themselves

　　Pushing together up to the sunlight，

　　May they break through the seal stretched above them

　　Open and flower and cry we are living．

　　诗歌欣赏：Drinking With Someone In The

　　As the two of us drink

　　together， while mountain

　　flowers blossom beside， we

　　down one cup after the other

　　until I am drunk and sleepy

　　so that you better go！

　　Tomorrow if you feel like it

　　do come and bring your lute

　　along with you！

　　by Louis Simpson

　　Trees in the old days used to stand

　　And shape a shady lane

　　Where lovers wandered hand in hand

　　Who came from Carentan．

　　This was the shining green canal

　　Where we came two by two

　　Walking at combat－interval．

　　Such trees we never knew．

　　The day was early June， the ground

　　Was soft and bright with dew．

　　Far away the guns did sound，

　　But here the sky was blue．

　　The sky was blue， but there a smoke