رؤى بني مصطفى

,Under a wall of bronze Where beeches dip and trail ;Their branches in the water —With red-tipped head and wings

,Sleep little baby, clean as a nut .Your fingers uncurl and your eyes are shut .Your life was ours, which is with you .Go on your journey. We go too

,In the dark the river spins ,Laughs and ripples never ceasing ,Swells to gurgle under arches .Swishes past the hows of barges

Dear love, for nothing less than thee ;Would I have broke this happy dream It was a theme ,For reason, much too strong for fantasy

,For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love  ,Or chide my palsy, or my gout  ,My five gray hairs, or ruined fortune flout  ,With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve 

,He is stark mad, whoever says ,That he hath been in love an hour ,Yet not that love so soon decays ;But that it can ten in less space devour 

,Thou art not so black as my heart ;Nor half so brittle as her heart, thou art  ,What would’st thou say ? shall both our properties by thee be spoke ?Nothing more endless, nothing sooner broke—

Stand still, and I will read to thee .A lecture, love, in love’s philosophy ,These three hours that we have spent Walking here, two shadows went

I am a gentleman in a dustcoat trying-- To make you hear. Your ears are soft and small ,And listen to an old man not at all .They want the young men's whispering and sighing

When midnight comes a host of dogs and men ,Go out and track the badger to his den And put a sack within the hole, and lie .Till the old grunting badger passes bye

,There’s one rides very sagely on the road .Showing that he affects the gravest mode ,Another rides tantivy, or full trot .To show much gravity he matters not

In the licorice fields at Pontefract My love and I did meet And many a burdened licorice bush ;Was blooming round our feet

في السطور الأولى من هذه القصيدة يبدأ المتحدث بوصف بلغة بسيطة للغاية الطفل الذي فقد كرة يلعب بها، سرعان ما يتضح أنّ هذه الكرة لم تكن شيئًا بسيطًا يمكن استبداله،

,He was reading late, at Richard's, down in Maine ,aged 32? Richard & Helen long in bed .my good wife long in bed ,All I had to do was strip & get into my bed

.Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so ,After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns ,we ourselves flash and yearn and moreover my mother told me as a boy

.Trust me. The world is run on a shoestring They have no time to return the calls in hell And pay dearly for those wasted minutes. Somewhere In the future it will filter down through all the proceedings

The medieval town, with frieze Of boy scouts from Nagoya? The snow ?That came when we wanted it to snow Beautiful images? Trying to avoid

,The shadow of the Venetian blind on the painted wall ,Shadows of the snake-plant and cacti, the plaster animals Focus the tragic melancholy of the bright stare .Into nowhere, a hole like the black holes in space

Excuse me Standing on one leg I’m half-caste

ظهرت هذه القصيدة في (The Penguin Anthology) من الشعر الأمريكي في القرن العشرين الذي حررته ريتا دوف، تصف هذه القصيدة علاقة حب لم تتحقق لمتحدثة ومشاعرها فيما يتعلق بالعلاقة.

,When everything finally has been wrecked and further shipwrecked ,When their most ardent dream has been made hollow and unrecognizable

By holding my mirror out of the window I see .Clear to the end of the passage .There's a person down there .A prisoner polishing a doorhandle

You only love me when it’s raining  ?Why can’t you love me when it’s bright Keep hoping for the rainclouds So you can come and make it all right

Stay, I said .to the cut flowers They bowed .their heads lower

,Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly ,Asleep on the black trunk .Blowing like a leaf in green shadow ,Down the ravine behind the empty house

.She's gone. She was my love, my moon or more ,She chased the chickens out and swept the floor ,Emptied the bones and nut-shells after feasts .And smacked the kids for leaping up like beasts

Those old Winnebago men .Knew what they were singing

,Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota .Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass And the eyes of those two Indian ponies .Darken with kindness

,Now thou art risen, and thy day begun.How shrink the shrouding mists before thy face !As up thou spring’st to thy diurnal race ,How darkness chases darkness to the west !As shades of light on light rise radiant from thy crest

,My boy, the hero played his part Upon his sleeve; his stripes, his heart And when they marched out on parade My boy, the hero played