H.D.

[Anonymous No.9829187]

You can't live on nothing." "I can live on sunlight falling across little bridges. I can live on the Botticelli-blue cornflower pattern on the out-billowing garments of the attendant to Aphrodite and the pattern of strawberry blossoms and the little daisies in the robe of Primavera. I can live on the doves flying (he says) in cohorts from the underside of the faded gilt of the balcony of Saint Mark's cathedral and the long corridors of the Pitti Palace. I can gorge myself on Rome and the naked Bacchus and the face like a blasted lightning-blasted white birch that is some sort of Fury.

[Anonymous No.9829194]

>>9829187
I don't respect women's opinions

[Anonymous No.9829216]

>>9829194
She did not look at the daffodils. They didn't mean anything. She looked at the daffodils. She said, 'Thank you for the daffodils.'

[Anonymous No.9829249]

is she actually Good or is it all just an elaborate feminist plot because everyone hates pound? i like her stuff for the most part but i'm not sure

what a nice teutonic jaw on her by the way

[Anonymous No.9829328]

>>9829249
I think she's one of the richest writer's modernism has to offer (if not the richest), but I haven't read all of her stuff, so maybe she fucks up in some unforgivable way

Helen

All Greece hates
the still eyes in the white face,
the lustre as of olives
where she stands,
and the white hands.

All Greece reviles
the wan face when she smiles,
hating it deeper still
when it grows wan and white,
remembering past enchantments
and past ills.

Greece sees, unmoved,
God’s daughter, born of love,
the beauty of cool feet
and slenderest knees,
could love indeed the maid,
only if she were laid,
white ash amid funereal cypresses.