gri_2003_m_46_b05_f07_007

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Transcribers

69052707 - Berhel
69329816 - Zooniverse2017
WINNER - 69527221 - jesseytucker
69824709 - pogostickies
70295700 - hughgibson
70514202 - Preacher357
70514914 - THIRTYFATHOMGRAVE

69052707 - Berhel

IV

Patterns of nostalgia unify
The draughty gothic platforms
Where the oracle mutters place names,
The promenade as silent as below
The surface of the sea-view it commands,
Nostalgia for my love in the past.

Landscapes succeed each other
Unreal as a diorama
Demonstrating the degrees of autumn,
The purple, gold, and empty groves,
Unreal compared to my flesh
Predicting future summers with my love.

v THE POET IN TOWN

Rain is not a titan's tear,
Nobody weeps in weather,
But tonight as rain descends
I dwell on poor lovers

Lying apart at night
While rain ticks crazily down
From cornice to path,
From orchard to the lawn.

vi ON MY LOVE IN THE COUNTRY

Villages are children of the signpost,
That guardian angel, wooden-winged, who shows
The superstitious traveller his choice;

But posts are the orchard of knowledge
And point a way out of the rural province.
Already 'paradise' is seasonal.

69329816 - Zooniverse2017

IV

Patterns of nostalgia unify
The draughty gothic platforms
Where the oracle mutters place names,
The promenade as silent as below
The surface of the sea-view it commands,
Nostalgia for my love in the past.

Landscapes succeed each other
Unreal as a diorama
Demonstrating the degrees of autumn,
The purple, gold, and empty groves,
Unreal compared to my flesh
Predicting future summers with my love.

v THE POET IN TOWN

Rain is not a titan's tear,
Nobody weeps in weather,
But tonight as rain descends
I dwell on poor lovers

Lying apart at night
While rain tick crazily down
From cornice to path,
From orchard to the lawn.

vi ON MY LOVE IN THE COUNTRY

Villages are children of the signpost,
That guardian angel, wooden-winged, who shows
The superstitious traveller his choice;

But signposts are orchard of knowledge
And point a way out of the rural province.
Already 'paradise' is seasonal.

WINNER - 69527221 - jesseytucker

IV

Patterns of nostalgia unify
The draughty gothic platforms
Where the oracle mutters place names,
The promenade as silent as below
The surface of the sea-view it commands,
Nostalgia for my love in the past.

Landscapes succeed each other
Unreal as a diorama
Demonstrating the degrees of autumn,
The purple, gold, and empty groves,
Unreal compared to my flesh
Predicting future summers with my love.

v THE POET IN TOWN

Rain is not a titan's tear,
Nobody weeps in weather,
But tonight as rain descends
I dwell on poor lovers

Lying apart at night
While rain ticks crazily down
From cornice to path,
From orchard to the lawn.

vi ON MY LOVE IN THE COUNTRY

Villages are children of the signpost,
That guardian angel, wooden-winged, who shows
The superstitious traveller his choice;

But signposts are the orchard of knowledge
And point a way out of the rural province.
Already 'paradise' is seasonal.

69824709 - pogostickies

IV

Patterns of nostalgia unify
The draughty gothic platforms
Where the oracle mutters place names,
The promenades silent as below
The surface of the sea-view it commands,
Nostalgia for my love in the past.

Landscapes succeed each other
Unreal as a diorama
Demonstrating the degrees of autumn,
The purple, gold, and empty groves,
Unreal compared to my flesh
Predicting future summers with my love.

v THE POET IN TOWN

Rain is not titan's tear,
Nobody weeps in weather,
But tonight as rain descends
I dwell on poor lovers

Lying apart at night
While rain ticks crazily down
From cornice to path,
From orchard to the lawn.

vi ON MY LOVE IN THE COUNTRY

Villages are children of the signpost,
That guardian angel, wooden-winged, who shows
The superstitious traveller his choice;

But signposts are the orchard of knowledge
And point a way out of the rural province.
Already 'paradise' is seasonal.

70295700 - hughgibson

IV
Patterns of nostalgia unify
The draughty gothic platforms
Where the oracle mutters place names,
The promenade as silent as below
The surface of the sea-view it commands,
Nostalgia for my love in the past.

Landscapes succeed each other
Unreal as a diorama
Demonstrating the degrees of autumn,
The purple, gold, and empty groves,
Unreal compared to my flesh
Predicting future summers with my love.

v THE POET IN TOWN
Rain is not a titan's tear,
Nobody weeps in winter,
But tonight as rain descends
I dwell on poor lovers

Lying apart at night
While rain ticks crazily down
From cornice to path,
From orchid to the lawn.

vi ON MY LOVE IN THE COUNTRY
Villages are children of the signpost,
That guardian angel, wooden-winged, who shows
The superstitious traveller his choice;

But signposts are the orchid of knowledge
And point a way out of the rural province.
Already 'paradise' is seasonal.

70514202 - Preacher357

IV

Patterns of nostalgia unify
The draughty gothic platforms
Where the oracle mutters place names,
The promenade as silent as below
The surface of the sea-view it commands,
Nostalgia for my love in the past.

Landscapes succeed each other
Unreal as a diorama
Demonstrating the degrees of autumn,
The purple, gold, and empty groves,
Unreal compared to my flesh
Predicting future summers with my love.

v THE POET IN TOWN

Rain is not a titan's tear,
Nobody weeps in weather,
But tonight as rain descends
I dwell on poor lovers

Lying apart at night
While rain ticks crazily down
From cornice to path,
From orchard to the lawn.

vi ON MY LOVE IN THE COUNTRY

Villages are children of the sighpost,
That guardian angel, wooden-winged, who shows
The superstitious traveller his choice;

But signposts are the orchard of knowledge
And point a way out of the rural province.
Already 'paradise' is seasonal.

70514914 - THIRTYFATHOMGRAVE

IV

Patterns of nostalgia unify
The draughty gothic platforms
Where the Miracle mutters place names,
The surface of the sea-view it commands,
Nostalgia for my love in the past.

Landscapes succeed each other
Unreal as a diorama
Demonstrating the degree of autumn,
The purple, gold, and empty groves,
Unreal compared to my flesh
Predicting future summers with my love.

v THE POET IN TOWN
Rain is not a titan's tear,
Nobody weeps in weather,
But tonight as rain descends
I dwell on poor lovers

Lying apart at night
While rain ticks crazily down
From cornice to path,
From orchid to the lawn.

vi ON MY LOVE IN THE COUNTRY

Villages are children of the signpost.
That guardian angel, wooden-winged, who shows the superstitious traveller his choice;

But signposts are the orchard of knowledge
And point a way out of the rural province.
Already 'paradise' is seasonal.

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