gri_2003_m_46_b05_f01_007

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Transcribers

71601243 - altheist
WINNER - 71613087 - hoskinml
71613567 - hoskinml
71696390 - Preacher357
71711605 - wrightj2h
71721238 - Zooniverse2017

71601243 - altheist

1st sketch of the fairy tale in your letter of 1-9-52.

I
An afternoon lined in the day
That afternoon a paperjay
Led a girl out of the house
Into gardens of the day.

The song lured the princess on.
The girl was a princess. The sun
Was a rose she tried to read
Lured by the darting paperjay.

She was lost in the languorous dark
On the outskirts of the park.
The grass held no statues
Like ill lawns near her father's house.

II
Where are Ronne Bids
And the beautiful cat?
The paperjay is lost
In dusky silence.
I am lost.
Am I remembered
By the beautiful cat & sweet Bonne Biche?

III
With sombre and dragging ration,
Unlike the girlish flight
When she followed the paperjay
As if she were an echo
Who never catches the singer,
She returns, perched on the scaly dome,
On the old grey shield, of a tortoise-back.
In sluggish ceremony she returns -
Like a diver slowly rising
From the languorous bed to air.

With it stay embroidered on his arms
A gallant prince waits for the girl:
"Who is Bonne Biche but the beautiful queen
Finely poised as Fame, waiting for me?"

The spell completes its circle like a tapestry,
A rose stitched by the seasons and desire
Of a girl between the past and the future.

I love you,
Lawrence

3.1.52

WINNER - 71613087 - hoskinml

1st sketch of the fairy tale in your letter of 1.7.52
I
An afternoon lived in the day -
That afternoon a popinjay
Led a girl out of the house
Into gardens of the day.

The song lured the princess on.
The girl was a princess. The sun
Was a rose she tried to read
Lured by the darting popinjay.

She was lost in the langorous dark
On the outskirts of the park.
The grass held no statues
Like the lawns near her father's house.
II
Where are Bonne Bicles
And the beautiful cat?
The popinjay is lost
In dusky silence.
I am lost.
Am I remembered
By the beautiful cat & sweet Bonne Bicles?
III
With sombre and dragging motion,
Unlike the girlish flight
When she followed the popinjay
As if she were an echo
Who never catches the singer,
She returns, perched on the scaly dome,
On the old grey shield, of a tortoise-back.
In sluggish ceremony she returns -
Like a diner slowly rising
From the langorous bed to air.

With a stag embroidered on his arms,
A gallant prince waits for the girl:
"Who is Bonne Biche but the beautiful queen
"Finely poised as Fame, waiting for me?"

The spell completes its circle like a tapestry,
A rose stitched by the seasons and desire
Of a girl between the past and future.
I love you
Lawrence
3.i 52

71613567 - hoskinml

71696390 - Preacher357

1st Sketch of the Fairy Tale in your letter of 1-3-52
I
An afternoon lived in the day
That afternoon a popinjay
Led a girl out of the house
Into gardens of the day.

The song lured the princess on.
The girl was a princess - The sun
Was a rose she tried to read
Lured by the darting popinjay

She was lost in the langorous dark
On the outskirts of the park.
The grass held no statues
the lawns near her father's house.

II
Where are Bonne Biches
And the beautiful cat?
The popinjay is lost
In dusly silence.
I am lost.
Am I remembered
By the beautiful cat & sweet Bonne Biches?

III
With sombre and dragging motions,
Unlike the girlish flight
When she followed the popinjay
As if she were an echo
Who never catches the singer,
She returns, perched on the scaly dome,
On the old grey shield, of a tortoise - back.
In sluggish ceremony she returns -
like a slowly rising
From the langorous bed to air.

With a stay embroidered on his arms
A gallant prince waits for the girl:
"Who is Bonne Birche but the beautiful queen?"
"Poised to Fame, waiting for me?"

The spell completes its circle like a tapestry,
A rose stitched by the seasons and desire
Of a girl between the past and future.

I love you
Lawrence
3 i 52

71711605 - wrightj2h

1st sketch of fairy tale in your letter of 1.3.52
I.
An afternoon lived in the day
That afternoon a popinjay
Led a girl out of the house
Into gardens of the day

The song lured the princess on
The girl was a princess. The sun
Was a rose she tried to read
Lured by the darting popinjay

She was lost in the langorous dark
On the outskirts of the park
The grass held no statues
Like the lawns near her father's house

II.
Where are Bonne Biche
And the beautiful cat?
The popinjay is lost
In dusky silence
I am lost
Am I remembered
By the beautiful cat & sweet Bonne Biche?

III.
With sombre and dragging motion
Unlike the girlish flight
When she followed the popinjay
As if she were an echo
Who never catches the stages
She returns, perched on the scaley dome
On the old grey shield of a tortoise-back
In sluggish ceremony she returns -
Like a dines slowly rising
From the langorous bed to air

With a stag embroidered on his arms
A gallant prince waits for the girl:
"Who is Bonne Biche but the beautiful queen
Finely poised as Fame, waiting for me?"

The spell complete its circle like a tapestry,
A rose stitched by the seasons and desire
Of a girl between the past and the future.
I love you
Lawrence

71721238 - Zooniverse2017

1st sketch of the fairytale in your letter of 1.7.52

I
An afternoon lived in the day.
That afternoon a popinjay
Led a girl out of the house
Into gardens of the day.

The song lured the princess on.
The girl was a princess. The sun
Was a rose she tried to reach
lured by the darting popinjay

She was lost in the dangerous dark
On the outskirts of the park.
The grass held no statues
With the lawns near her father's house.

II
Where are Bonne Biche
And the beautiful cat?
The popinjay is lost
In dusky silence.
I am lost.
Am I remembered
By the beautiful cat & sweet Bonne Biche?

III
With sombre and dragging motion,
Unlike the girlish flight
When she followed the popinjay
As if she were an echo
Who never catches the singes,
She returns, perched on the scaly dome,
On the old grey shield, of a tortoise-back.
In sluggish ceremony she returns -
like a dines slowly rising.
From the languorous bed to air.

With a stay embroidered on his arms,
A gallant prince waits for the girl:
"Who is Bonne Biche but the beautiful queen
"Finely poised as Fame, waiting for me?"

The spell completes its circle like a tapestry,
A rose stitched by the seasons and desire
of a girl between the past and future.

I love you
Lawrence

3 i 52

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