“in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night”

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Last update June 3, 2021. History

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Do you have more details about the quote "in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in t…" by Allen Ginsberg?
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Allen Ginsberg 76
American poet 1926–1997

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Context: When I was journeying (in a dream of the night) down the well-remembered reaches of the Thames betwixt Streatley and Wallingford, where the foothills of the White Horse fall back from the broad stream, I came upon a clear-seen mediæval town standing up with roof and tower and spire within its walls, grey and ancient, but untouched from the days of its builders of old. All this I have seen in the dreams of the night clearer than I can force myself to see them in dreams of the day. So that it would have been nothing new to me the other night to fall into an architectural dream if that were all, and yet I have to tell of things strange and new that befell me after I had fallen asleep.

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“Sick on a journey,
my dreams wander
the withered fields.”

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旅に病で
夢は枯野を
かけ廻る
tabi ni yande
yume wa kareno wo
kake-meguru
Bashō's last poem, written while he was dying of a stomach illness. (Translation: Robert Hass)
Sick on a journey –
over parched fields
dreams wander on.
Basho, On Love and Barley: Haiku of Basho, London, 1985, p. 81 (Translation: Lucien Stryk)
Travelling, sick
My dreams roam
On a withered moor.
Unknown translator
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“Ah, yes, in that hour of our souls dream-driven,
In that high, white hour, O my wild sea-bride,
The tears and the years will be all forgiven, …
And all be justified.”

Edwin Markham (1852–1940) American poet

Source: The Shoes of Happiness, and Other Poems (1913), The Crowning Hour, III
Context: p>As we go star-stilled in the mystic garden,
All the prose of this life run there to rhyme,
How eagerly then will the poor heart pardon
All of these hurts of Time!Ah, yes, in that hour of our souls dream-driven,
In that high, white hour, O my wild sea-bride,
The tears and the years will be all forgiven, …
And all be justified.</p

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