قصيدة On First Looking Into Chapman’s Homer
,Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold ;And many goodly states and kingdoms seen Round many western islands have I been .Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold
,Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold ;And many goodly states and kingdoms seen Round many western islands have I been .Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold
A planet doesn’t explode of itself," said drily" .The Martian astronomer, gazing off into the air
,Die, wild country, like the eaglehawk ,dangerous till the last breath's gone clawing and striking. Die .cursing your captor through a raging eye
,Remember the sky that you were born under .know each of the star's stories .Remember the moon, know who she is Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is the
هي قصيدة للشاعرة جوي هارجو، تستخدم الشاعرة الصورة المركزية لطاولة المطبخ لربط جميع مجالات الحياة، الطفولة، والحب، والخسارة، والحرب، والبلوغ، والذاكرة كلها مرتبطة بالأحداث التي تحدث على الطاولة، يصبح الصورة المركزية لهارجو ، الجدول الذي يمثل كل المساعي البشرية.
,O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell Let it not be among the jumbled heap —,Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep ,Nature’s observatory—whence the dell
هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر ماساوكا شيكي، وهي قصيدة مدروسة، يصف الآثار السلبية والمظلمة لقتل العنكبوت.
هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر ماتسوو باشو، هي قصيدة هايكو تتعامل مع بركة قديمة والصوت الذي يصدره الضفدع الذي يقفز فيها.
,You made me cry in cruel stations So I missed many trains. You married others In plausible buildings. The subsequent son Became my boss. You promised me nothing
;You cannot do this to them, these are my people .I am not speaking of poetry, I am not speaking of art .you cannot do this to them, these are my people .you cannot hack away the horizon in front of their eyes
,There once was a tiger, terrible and tough .who said “I don’t think tigers are stylish enough .They put on only orange and stripes of fierce black .Fine and fancy fashion is what they mostly lack
.They eat beans mostly, this old yellow pair .Dinner is a casual affair ,Plain chipware on a plain and creaking wood .Tin flatware
It took a hurricane, to bring her closer To the landscape ,Half the night she lay awake ,The howling ship of the wind
هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعرة جيليان كلارك، وهي قصيدة قصيرة عن الرسائل المخفية لعلاقة أصبحت باردة وليس لها مستقبل.
.No hay pajaros en los nidos de antano Spanish Proverb—
O sweet illusions of song ,That tempt me everywhere In the lonely fields, and the throng !Of the crowded thoroughfare
Listen, my children, and you shall hear ,Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere ;On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five Hardly a man is now alive
,In broad daylight, and at noon Yesterday I saw the moon ,Sailing high, but faint and white .As a school-boy’s paper kite
;I am poor and old and blind The sun burns me, and the wind Blows through the city gate And covers me with dust
,All are architects of Fate ;Working in these walls of Time ,Some with massive deeds and great .Some with ornaments of rhyme
Ojibwa —,The owl Au The owl Au
Blackness ,is a title ,is a preoccupation is a commitment Blacks —are to comprehend and in which you are .to perceive your Glory
its raining womens voices as if they were dead even in memory its raining you too marvelous encounters of my life oh droplets
At last you're tired of this elderly world Shepherdess O Eiffel Tower this morning the bridges are bleating You're fed up living with antiquity
,Indeed indeed, I cannot tell ,Though I ponder on it well Which were easier to state All my love or all my hate
,Now, rallying once if ne’er again ,With flag at half-mast flown A people in dire need and strain .Mans Tyra’s bastion
,Along Ancona’s hills the shimmering heat A tropic tide of air with ebb and flow Bathes all the fields of wheat until they glow Like flashing seas of green, which toss and beat Around the vines. The poppies lithe and fleet
:O gift of God! O perfect day ;Whereon shall no man work, but play ,Whereon it is enough for me !Not to be doing, but to be
.For marriage, love and love alone’s the argument Sweet ceremony, then hand in hand we go .Taking to our changed, still dangerous days, our complement We think we know ourselves, but all we know
;LOVE, a child, is ever crying ;Please him, and he straight is flying ,Give him, he the more is craving .Never satisfied with having