Re-blogging this poem, I think its about time there was a bit more Edith Sitwell on the site. it was transcribed from *Facade*, so I have to find my notes to add in the Publication date etcetera.
‘The Octogenarian Leaned from his window, To the Valerian Growing below Said, ‘My Nightcap is the only gap in the trembling thorn where the mild unicorn with the little infanta danced the Lavolta (Clapping hands: Molto Lent Eleganta). The Man with the Lantern Peers high and low; No more than a snore as he walks to and fro… Il Dottore the stoic culls silver herb beneath the superb vast moon azoic.” From: Facade, by Edith Sitwell. … Read More
via poethead
Chris Murray 