Oranges

"And she feeds you tea and oranges That come all the way from China. And just when you mean to tell her That you have no love to give her Then she gets you on her wavelength And she lets the river answer That you've always been her lover."

"The orange is ripe the sun-filled orange is ripe"

"Oh we ate all of the oranges off the navels of our lovers Grabbed a book and read the cover."

"It is even in prose, I am a real poet. My poem is finished and I haven't mentioned orange yet It's twelve poems, I call it oranges."

"If the world could remain within a frame Like a painting on a wall, Then I think we would see the beauty, then We would stand staring in awe At our still lives posed Like a bowl of oranges, Like a story told By the fault lines and the soil."

"If you are the basket of oranges I am the knife of the sun."

"The happy bells shall ring Marguerite; The summer birds shall sing Marguerite; You smile but you shall wear Orange blossoms in your hair, Marguerite."

"Kennst du das Land wo die Citronen blühen, Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen glūhn, Ein sanfter Wind om blauen Himmel webt Die Myrtle still und hoch der Lorbeer steht? Kennst du es wohl? Dahin! Dahin, Möcht' ich mit dir, O mein Geliebter, ziehn."

"Yes, sing the song of the orange-tree, With its leaves of velvet green: With its luscious fruit of sunset hue, The fairest that ever were seen; The grape may have its bacchanal verse, To praise the fig we are free; But homage I pay to the queen of all, The glorious orange-tree."

"If I were yonder orange-tree And thou the blossom blooming there, I would not yield a breath of thee To scent the most imploring air!"

"'Twas noon; and every orange bud Hung languid o'er the crystal flood, Faint as the lids of maiden eyes Beneath a lover's burning sighs!"

"Beneath some orange-trees, Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze Were wantoning together free, Like age at play with infancy."