gri_2003_m_46_b02_f05_007
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.302
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.12
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- 65564471 - PenguinCo.
- WINNER - 65598686 - hilditl74
- 65692837 - tinkapuppy
- 65763315 - brizbri
- 65916853 - SusanMorley53425
- 66049263 - MrsVav
65564471 - PenguinCo.
For Sylvia - 8th May 1949(1)
He is a lover.
See his emblem.
A feather and a ball
Balanced in the tree.
His sighs and ardour
Corroborate the emblem.
The stream beside his elbow
Dances like desire
Caught on the slanted world
Of memory and hope.
Beyond him is a landscape:
The elephantine hills
Where hermits never sleep,
The forest and bee-hives,
The gardens and the gates.
On this anniversary
Of the day that you were born,
Of the day that love was born,
He wishes for
Your happiest return.
(2)
Lying naked in the hand of sleep,
My supple dreamer,
You are attended by
Subconscious masquers.
Apollo gives a golden cage
Inhabited by feathers
Floating formless in the bars
Till you take it in your hand:
The bars dissolve, the feathers take
Elegant solidity
And is a bird whose plumes
Are golden arrow heads,
Whose tail is an heraldic lyre.
Ceres is nect, her gifts
Lie heaped upon the steps
At Sylvia's feet
(crossed in superb repose)_,
Bananas, apples, oranges,
Peaches, melons, tangerines,
And purple velvet plums.
Pendulous clumps of grapes,
Spilling past the wicker cage,
WINNER - 65598686 - hilditl74
For Sylvia - 8th May 1949(1)
He is a lover.
See his emblem.
A feather and a ball
Balanced in the tree.
His sighs and ardour
Corroborate the emblem.
The stream beside his elbow
Dances like desire
Caught on the slanted world
Of memory and hope.
Beyond him is a landscape :
The elephantine hills
Where hermits never sleep,
The forest and the bee-hives,
The gardens and the gates.
On this anniversary
Of the day that you were born,
Of the day that love was born,
He wishes for
Your happiest return.
(2)
Lying naked in the hand of sleep,
My supple dreamer,
You are attended by
Subconscious masquers.
Apollo gives a golden cage
Inhabited by feathers
Floating formless in the bars
Till you take it in your hand :
The bars dissolve, the feathers take
Elegant solidity
And is a bird whose plumes
Are golden arrow heads,
Whose tail is an heraldic lyre.
Ceres is next, her gifts
Lie heaped upon the steps
At Sylvia's feet
(crossed in superb repose),
A basket of the wealth of earth,
Bananas, apples, oranges,
Peaches, melons, tangerines,
And purple velvet plums.
Pendulous clumps of grapes,
Spilling past the wicker cage,
65692837 - tinkapuppy
For Sylvia - 8th May 1949(1)
He is a lover.
See his emblem.
A feather and a ball
Balanced in the tree.
His sighs and ardour
Corroborate the emblem.
The stream beside his elbow
Dances like desire
Caught on the slanted world
Of memory and hope.
Beyond him is a landscape:
The elephantine hills
Where hermits never sleep,
The forest and the bee-hives,
The gardens and the gates.
On this anniversary
Of the day that you were born,
Of the day that love was born,
He wishes for
Your happiest return.
(2)
Lying naked in the hand of sleep,
My supple dreamer,
You are attended by
Subconscious masquers.
Apollo gives a golden cage
Inhabited by feathers
Floating formless in the bars
Till you take it in your hand:
The bars dissolve, the feathers take
Elegant solidity
And is a bird whose plumes
Are golden arrow heads,
Whose tail is an heraldic lyre.
Ceres is next, her gifts
Lie heaped upon the steps
At Sylvia's feet
(crossed in superb repose),
A basket of the wealth of earth,
Bananas, apples, oranges,
Peaches, melons, tangerines,
And purple velvet plums.
Pendulous clumps of grapes,
Spilling past the wicker cage,
65763315 - brizbri
For Sylvia. 8th May 1969(1)
He is a lover.
See his emblem.
A feather and a ball
Balanced in the tree.
His sighs and ardour
Corroborate the emblem.
The stream beside his elbow
Dances like desire
Caught on the slanted world
Of memory and hope.
Beyond him is a landscape:
The elephantine hills
Where hermits never sleep,
The forest and the bee-hives,
The gardens and the gates.
On this anniversary
Of the day that you were born,
Of the day that love was born,
He wishes for
Your happiest return.
(2)
Lying naked in the hand of sleep,
My supple dreamer,
You are attended by
Subsconscious masquers.
Apollo gives a golden cage
Inhabited by feathers
Floating formless in the bars
Till you take it in your hand:
The bars dissolve, the feathers take
Elegant solidity
And is a bird whose plumes
Are golden arrow heads,
Whose tail is an heraldic lyre.
Ceres is next, her gifts
Lie heaped upon the steps
At Sylvia's feet
(crossed in superb repose),
A basket of the wealth of earth,
Bananas, apples, oranges,
Peaches, melons, tangerines,
And purple velvet plums.
Pendulous clumps of grapes,
Spilling past the wicker cage,
65916853 - SusanMorley53425
For Sylvia - 8th May 1949(1)
He is a lover.
See his emblem.
A feather and a ball
Balanced in the tree.
His sighs and ardour
Corroborate the emblem.
The stream beside his elbow
Dances like desire
Caught on the slanted world
Of memory and hope.
Beyond him is a landscape :
The elephantine hills
Where hermits never sleep,
The forest and the bee-hives,
The gardens and the gates.
On this anniversary
Of the day that you were born,
Of the day that love was born,
He wishes for
Your happiest return.
(2)
Lying naked in the hand of sleep,
My supple dreamer,
You are attended by
Subconscious masquers.
Apollo gives a golden cage
Inhabited by feathers
Floating formless in the bars
Till you take it in your hand :
The bars dissolve, the feathers take
Elegant solidity
And is a bird whose plumes
Are golden arrow heads,
Whose tail is an heraldic lyre.
66049263 - MrsVav
He is a lover.See his emblem.
A feather and a ball
Balanced in the tree.
His sighs and ardour
Corroborate the emblem.
The stream beside his elbow
Dances like desire
Caught on the slanted world
Of memory and hope.
Beyond him is a landscape:
The elephantine hills
Where hermits never sleep,
The forest and the bee-hives.
The gardens and the gates.
On this anniversary
Of the day that you were born,
Of the day that you were born,
He wishes for
You happiest return.
Lying naked in the hand of sleep,
My supple dreamer,
You are attended by
Subconscious masquers.
Apollo give a golden cage
Inhabited by feathers
Floating formless in the bards
Till you take it in you hand:
The bars dissolve, the feathers take
Elegant solidity
And is a bird whose plumes
Are golden arrow heads,
Whose tail is an heraldic lyre.
Ceres is next, her gifts
Lie heaped upon the steps
At Sylvia's feet
(crossed in superb repose),
A basket of the wealth of earth,
Bananas, apples, oranges,
Peaches, melons, tangerines,
And purple velvet plums.
Pendulous clumps of grapes,
Spilling past the wicker cage,
For Sylvia - 8th May 1969