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Page 61
а > hills , the country that was like the flanks of an animal , like a belly , like flesh marked with copses of hair ; and feel this . That to float above it , just casting one's own human shadow as a bird , a cloud , carelessly casts ...
а > hills , the country that was like the flanks of an animal , like a belly , like flesh marked with copses of hair ; and feel this . That to float above it , just casting one's own human shadow as a bird , a cloud , carelessly casts ...
Page 117
All the way back over the mountains I have the feeling I'm seeing things for the last time . I know we won't come back . Then even in Paleochora I begin to feel something new - a strange reckless gaiety around the place ...
All the way back over the mountains I have the feeling I'm seeing things for the last time . I know we won't come back . Then even in Paleochora I begin to feel something new - a strange reckless gaiety around the place ...
Page 208
Outside the actual shooting season , the keepers have a very easy time of it , though at weekends they sometimes feel obliged to leave a well - loaded table and go , breathless and flushed with wine ...
Outside the actual shooting season , the keepers have a very easy time of it , though at weekends they sometimes feel obliged to leave a well - loaded table and go , breathless and flushed with wine ...
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Contents
POEMS translated by Graeme Wilson | 28 |
PRISONER by Elizabeth Jennings | 53 |
JOHN MURRAY 50 ALBEMARLE STREET LONDON WIX | 75 |
Copyright | |
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Annie appeared army arrived asked Aunt Aunt Nicola Berlin Brun called Christmas coming dark Disraeli Disraeli's door dress Duke East East German everything eyes face father feel felt field followed gave German give hand head Henty hill hope interest Italy John knew Lady later leave letters light living looked Lord Madame mean military mind morning moved never night officer once painted passed play political portrait present published returned round Ruth seemed seen side sitting started stone stopped streets talk tell things thought told took train trees turned uncle voice waiting walk walls wanted watch Wellington West wind window writing wrote