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gri_2003_m_46_b01_f08_013

Transcribers

  1. 65323910 - hoskinml
  2. 65324186 - Luna54
  3. 65333395 - southsidesunny
  4. WINNER - 65344302 - flissw
  5. 65370185 - not-logged-in-e2dd8f0135d722dcf974
  6. 65388099 - Chris5420

65323910 - hoskinml

1) These darkening meadows & these closing flowers Reminds me as I walk of Sussex fields where I have walked, to which my heart returns. This common, dusty and inadequate, reminds me of its better, The spaces and the colors of that land I walked with love, and ending on the sea, The sea that pulses like a heart. The sun's last epaulet has fallen And country matters mean too much for me. My memories are tense as silhouettes (Venetian darling on the dazzled sheets). You sit in a compartment, between the town, between the sea; the sea I would forsake but for the unwritten pages.
_____
2) Beside my bed all night 2 roses burning invoked an empire in my sleeping head. Pink towers, out of Carpacero, were laid Against a cobalt sky. And animals were wreathed in floors and portals in my dream. This city had a symbol's power: It is the image of a journey taken It is a hidden world the future owns. The morning wakes me but does not efface the precious dream of the concluded night. O, could I wake from waking, find the city As real as lonely as these waking roses which were my dream and are reality
________
3) The images of roses that I use Are common to the plots of centuries And yet they flourish in the summer light And yet they summon up your bone and flesh. The sea criss//-crossed by flashing sails and white pomposted surf is old as Venus' birth Yet is a symbol which transcends Associations of a place or time. As lovers who have loved a day and night And then a further day we gave to time who regulates our lives when we're apart A fine defeat we can renew at will.
Upon our bed embracing like the rose We vanquished time by pure forgetfulness.

65324186 - Luna54

1) These darkening meadows and their closing flowers reminds me as I walk of Surry's fields where I have walked, to which my heart returns. This common, dusty, and inadequate, reminds me of its better. The spaces and the colors of that land I walked with lone, and ending on the sea. The sea that pulses like a heart. The sun's last epaulet has fallen and country matters mean too much for me. My memories are tense as sillenites (Venetian darling on the dappled sheets). Am sit in a compartment between the town, between the sea; the sea I would forsake but for unwritten pages.

2) Beside my bed all night 2 roses burning I maked an empire in my sleeping head. Pink towers, our of Carpaccio, were laid against a cobalt sky. And animals were wreathed in floors and portals in my dream. This city had a symbol's power:
It is the image of a journey taken
It is a hidden world the future owns.
The morning wakes me but does not efface the precious dream of the concluded night. O, could I wake from waking, find the city as real as lonely as there waking roses wishes were my dream and are reality.
3) The images of roses that I use are common to the plots of centuries and yet they flowers in the summer night and yet they summon up your love and flesh. The sea criss-crosses by flashing sails and white ramparts surf is old as Venus' yet is a symbol which transcends association of a place a time.
As loners who have loned a day and night and then a further day we gave to time who regulates our lives when we're apart a line defeat we can renew at will.
Upon our led embracing like the rose we vanquished time by pure forgetfulness.

65333395 - southsidesunny

1) These darkening meadows of these closing flowers
Reminds me as I walk of [Sussex ] fields
Where I have walked, to which my heart returns,
This common, dusty and inadequate,
Reminds me of its better
The spaces and the colors of that land
I walked with love, and ending on the sea,
The sea that pulses like a heart.
The sun's last epaulet has fallen
And country matters mean too much for me.
My memories are tense as silhouettes
(Venetian darling on the dappled sheets).
You sit in a compartment,
Between the town, between the sea; the sea
I would forsake but for unwritten pages.
__________________

2) Beside my bed all night [by] roses burning
I walked an empire in my sleeping head,
pink towers, out of carpaccio, were laid
were wreathed in floors and portals in my dream.
This city had a symbol's power :
It is the image of a journey taken
It is a hidden world the future owns.
The morning wakes me but does not efface
The precious dream of the concluded night.
O, could I wake from waking, find the city
As real as lovely as these waking roses
which were my dream and are reality
________________________

3) The images of roses that I use
Are common to the plots of centuries
And yet they flourish in the summer light
And yet they summon up your love and flesh.
The sea criss-crossed by flashing sails and white
panposted] surf is old as Venus' birth
Yet is a symbol which transcends
Associations of a place a time.
As lovers who have loved a day and night
And then a further day we gave to time
Who regulates our lives when we're apart
a fine defeat we can renew at will.

Upon our bed embracing like the rose
We vanquished time by pure forgetfulness.

WINNER - 65344302 - flissw

1) These darkening meadows & these closing flowers
Reminds me as I walk of Sussex fields
where I have walked, to which my heart returns.
This common, dusty and inadequate,
Reminds me of its better,
The spaces and the colors of that land
I walked with love, and ending on the sea,
The sea that pulses like a heart.
The sun's last epaulet has fallen
And country matters mean too much for me.
My memories are tense as silhouettes
(Venetian darling on the dazzled sheets),
You sit in a compartment,
Between the town, between the sea; the sea
I would forsake but for unwritten pages.
2) Beside my bed all night 2 roses burning
invoked an empire in my sleeping head:
Pink towers, out of Carpaccio, were laid
Against a cobalt sky. And animals
were wreathed in floors and portals in my dream.
This city had a symbol's power:
It is the image of a journey taken
It is a hidden world the future owns.
The morning wakes me but does not efface
The precious dream of the concluded night.
O, could I wake from waking, find the city
As real as lonely as these waking roses
which were my dream and are reality.
3) The images of roses that I use
Are common to the plots of centuries
And yet they flourish in the summer light
And yet they summon up your love and flesh.
The sea criss-crossed by flashing sails and white
Impasted surf is old as Venus' birth
Yet is a symbol which transcends
Associations of a place a time.
As lovers who have loved a day and night
And then a further day we gave to time
who regulates our lives when we're apart
A fine defeat we can renew at will.
Upon our bed embracing like the rose
We vanquished time by pure forgetfulness.

65370185 - not-logged-in-e2dd8f0135d722dcf974

These darkening meadows and these flowers
reminds me as I walk of summer fields where I have walked, to my heart returns
this common, dusty and inadequate,
reminds me as it
These spaces and the colors of that land
I walked with love, and ending on the sea.
The sea that pulses like a heart.
The suns last has fallen.
And counting matters mean too much for me. My memories are these an silhouettes
( dancing o the dazzled sheets). you sir in a compliment.
Between the town, between the sea; the sea
I would but for pages
-
Beside my all
2 notes
I an empire in my sleeping head.
Pink towers, out of , where laid Against a control stay. And animals were in floors and in my dream
this city had a symbols power:
IC is the image of a journey taken
IC is a hidden world the future owns.
The morning wakes my
The merious dream councluded night
O, could I wake from waking city
As near as lonely as there waking noses
Whirl mere my dream and are reality
-
The images of noses that I use
Are commin to the
And yet then flourish in the summer
And yet they summon up your and flesh

65388099 - Chris5420

1) These darkening meadows & these closing flowers
Reminds me as I walk of Sussex fields
where I have walked, to which my heart returns.
This common, dusty and inadequate,
Reminds me of its letter,
The spaces and the colors of that land
I walked with love, and ending in the sea,
The sea that pulses like a heart.
The sun's last epaulet has fallen
And country matters mean too much for me.
My memories are tense as silhouettes
(Venetian darling on the dazzled sheets).
You sit in a compartment,
Between the town, between the sea; the sea
I would forsake but for unwritten pages.

2) Beside my bed all night 2 roses burning
I marked an empire in my sleeping head:
Pink towers, out of Carpaccio, were laid
Against a cobalt sky. And animals
Were wreathed in floors and portals in my dream.
This city had a symbol's power:
IC is the image of a journey taken
IC is a hidden world the future owns.
The morning wakes me but does not efface
The precious dream of the concluded night.
O, could I wake from waking, find the city
As real as lovely as there waking roses
Which were my dream and are reality

3) The images of roses that I use
Are common to the plots of centuries
And yet they flourish in the summer night
And yet they summon up your love and flesh.
The sea criss-crosses by flashing sails and white
Impasted surf is old as Venus' birth
Yet is a symbol which transends
Associations of a place a time.
As lovers who have loved a day and night
And then a further day we gave to time
who regulates our lives when we're apart
A fine defeat we can renew at will.


Uranus led embracing like the rose
We vanquished time by pure forgetfulness.

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