Outside down the purple street stopping sometimes at a door, breathing deep the heady wine of sunset, stride with clattering steps those to whom the time will never come of work-stiffened unrestless hands. The rain-swelled clouds of winter roam like a herd of swine over the town and the dark plain. The wineshops full of shuffling and talk, tanned faces bright eyes, moist lips moulding desires blow breaths of strong wine in the faces of passers-by. There are guards in the storehouse doors where are gathered the rich fruits of autumn, the grain the sweet figs and raisins; sullen blood tingling to madness they stride by who have not reaped. Sounds the zambomba. _Albaicin_ X The train throbs doggedly over the gleaming rails fleeing the light-green flanks of hills dappled with alternate shadow of clouds, fleeing the white froth of orchards, of clusters of apples and cherries in flower, fleeing the wide lush meadows, wealthy with cowslips, and the tramping horses and backward-strained bodies of plowmen, fleeing the gleam of the sky in puddles and glittering waters the train throbs doggedly over the ceaseless rails spurning the verdant grace of April's dainty apparel; so do my desires spurn those things which are behind in hunger of horizons. _Rapido: Valencia--Barcelona_ _1919--1920_ QUAI DE LA TOURNELLE I See how the frail white pagodas of blossom stand up on the great green hills of the chestnuts and how the sun has burned the wintry murk and all the stale odor of anguish out of the sky so that the swollen clouds bellying with sail can parade in pomp like white galleons. And they move the slow plumed clouds above the spidery grey webs of cities above fields full of golden chime of cowslips above warbling woods where the ditches are wistfully patined with primroses pale as the new moon above hills all golden with gorse and gardens frothed to the brim of their grey stone walls with apple bloom, cherry bloom, and the raspberry-stained bloom of peaches and almonds. So do the plumed clouds sail swelling with satiny pomp of parade towards somewhere far away where in a sparkling silver sea full of little flakes of indigo the great salt waves have heaved and stirred into blossoming of foam, and lifted on the rush of the warm wind towards the gardens and the spring-mad cities of the shore Aphrodite Aphrodite is reborn.