Poems by André Spire

Poems by André Spire

Broken Bells, by André Spire

O BELLS, you suffer not your gods to die;
You draw us by our hearts into your churches.  ...

Dust, by André Spire

THE SERVANT-GIRL'S SONG DUSTER, dust away, my friend,
Never will your dusting end.   I...

The Forsaken Maiden, by André Spire

SHE climbed the mountain;
And, naked,
Vaunting her body which he had refused,
She said:

It Was Not You, by André Spire

IT was not you I was waiting for,
It was not you that I saw,
In the dreams of my boy...

Lonely, by André Spire

THEY pity me.
"Look at him, see,
Taking his walking-stick, and going out. So lonely.
He fle...

Nudities, by André Spire

The hair is a nudity. --THE TALMUD. YOU said to me: But I will be your comrade;
And visit y...

Spring, by André Spire

NOW hand in hand, you little maidens, walk.
Pass in the shadow of the crumbling wall.
Arch yo...

To My Books, by André Spire

YOU, you have given me my noblest pleasures,
How many times my lips have kissed you, when
I ...