قصيدة Revenge by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
,Ay, gaze upon her rose-wreath’d hair ;And gaze upon her smile Seem as you drank the very air ;Her breath perfumed the while
,Ay, gaze upon her rose-wreath’d hair ;And gaze upon her smile Seem as you drank the very air ;Her breath perfumed the while
From weariness I looked out on the stars ,And there beheld them, fixed in throbbing joy Nor racked by such mad dance of moods as mars .For us each moment’s grace with swift alloy
Constancy is an evolution of one’s living quarters into a thought: a continuation of a parallelogram or a rectangle —by means—as Clausewitz would have put it .of the voice and, ultimately, the gray matter
,My dear Telemachus The Trojan War .is over now; I don't recall who won it The Greeks, no doubt, for only they would leave
After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand .and chaining a soul
All the way to the hospital .the lights were green as peppermints Trees of black iron broke into leaf ahead of me, as if
,The gorilla lay on his back ,One hand cupped under his head .Like a man
.Forgive me that I pitch your praise too low ,Such reticence my reverence demands .For silence falls with laying on of hands
,This is the gay cliff of the nineteenth century ,Drenched in the hopeful ozone of a new day ,Erect and brown, like retired sea-captains .The houses gaze vigorously at the ocean
Constantly risking absurdity and death whenever he performs above the heads
There are times when the mind“ knows no wholeness. It sees the moon broken in the branches, the finch’s shadow .as something terribly severed, black blood
—I make truce with you, Walt Whitman .I have detested you long enough I come to you as a grown child ;Who has had a pig-headed father
The lazy are slaughtered the world grows industrious The ugly are slaughtered the world grows beautiful
,There’s a certain Slant of light –Winter Afternoons That oppresses, like the Heft –Of Cathedral Tunes
,The heart of a woman goes forth with the dawn ,As a lone bird, soft winging, so restlessly on Afar o’er life’s turrets and vales does it roam .In the wake of those echoes the heart calls home
The fog has risen from the sea and crowned ,The dark, untrodden summits of the coast ,Where roams a voice, in canyons uttermost .From midnight waters vibrant and profound
هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعرة جيليان كلارك، وهي قصيدة عن الآمال الضائعة والأحلام والفرص التي تمت إعادة النظر فيها، باستخدام استعارة الصقر وهيكله العظمي.
;I struck the board, and cried, “No more !I will abroad ?What? shall I ever sigh and pine ,My lines and life are free, free as the road
—Going to him! Happy letter! Tell him“ ;Tell him the page I didn’t write ,Tell him I only said the syntax .And left the verb and the pronoun out
.The Sky is low — the Clouds are mean A Travelling Flake of Snow Across a Barn or through a Rut —Debates if it will go
,The cricket sang ,And set the sun ,And workmen finished, one by one .Their seam the day upon
That it will never come again .Is what makes life so sweet Believing what we don’t believe .Does not exhilarate
There is no Frigate like a Book ,To take us Lands away Nor any Coursers like a Page –Of prancing Poetry
هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعرة بيني هارتر، هي هايكو قصيرة لا تُنسى حول وعاء مكسور، تستخدم القصيدة ثلاثة أسطر قصيرة جدًا لوصف قطعها المتأرجحة.
.But in the crowding darkness not a word did they say .Though the pretty-coated birds had piped so lightly all the day
هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعرة إميلي ديكنسون، تقدم متحدثة الشاعرة المساعدة بعدة طرق في بعض الحالات لتحسين حياتها. ملخص قصيدة If I can stop one heart from breaking يتم تقديم هذا من خلال الأفكار الغامضة والمفاهيم التفسيرية، مع ذلك التي تُظهر اليأس تقريبًا من حيث أنّ ديكنسون مستعدة لتقديم هذه المساعدة بطرق مختلفة، مرة […]
?I’m Nobody! Who are you ?Are you – Nobody – too !Then there’s a pair of us !Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know
,I like a look of Agony —Because I know it’s true ,Men do not sham Convulsion —Nor simulate, a Throe
Down valley a smoke haze Three days heat, after five days rain Pitch glows on the fir-cones Across rocks and meadows .Swarms of new flies
The bud ,stands for all things ,even those things that don't flower ;for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing