By Katya Garcia-Israel ’20

But these leaves conning you con at peril,
For these leaves and me you will not understand,
They will elude you at first and still more afterward, I will certainly elude you,
Even while you should think you had unquestionably caught me, behold!
Already you see I have escaped from you.

For it is not for what I have put into it that I have written this book,
Nor is it by reading it you will acquire it,
Nor do those know me best who admire me and vauntingly praise me,
Nor will the candidates for my love (unless at most a very few) prove victorious,
Nor will my poems do good only, they will do just as much evil, perhaps more,
For all is useless without that which you may guess at many times and not hit, that which I hinted at;
Therefore release me and depart on your way.

FOR YOU O DEMOCRACY
I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of America, and along the shores of the great lakes, and all over the prairies,

7. Thirteenth century. Decorated horizontal bands.

Today I read a yearbook from 100 years ago. 100 years from now, will people see these words?

Will a bug be smashed between these pages?

8. Thirteenth century. Birds affronté and passant.