名人诗歌|Chaplinesque

in Just-

spring when the world is mud-

luscious^{1 the little}

lame^{2 balloonman}

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come by Hart Crane

We make our meek^{3 adjustments，}

Contented^{4 with such random5 consolations6}

As the wind deposits

In slithered and too ample pockets.

For we can still love the world， who find

A famished^{7 kitten on the step， and know}

Recesses^{8 for it from the fury of the street，}

Or warm torn elbow coverts^9.

We will sidestep， and to the final smirk¹⁰

Dally^{11 the doom12 of that inevitable13 thumb}

That slowly chafes^{14 its puckered15 index toward us，}

Facing the dull squint^{16 with what innocence17}

And what surprise！

And yet these fine collapses^{18 are not lies}

More than the pirouettes of any pliant^{19 cane20；}

Our obsequies are， in a way， no enterprise.

We can evade^{21 you， and all else but the heart：}

What blame to us if the heart live on.

The game enforces smirks^{22； but we have seen}

The moon in lonely alleys^{23 make}

A grail of laughter of an empty ash can，

And through all sound of gaiety and quest

Have heard a kitten in the wilderness^24.