شعر إنجليزي

Listless he eyes the palisades ;And sentries in the glare —Tis barren as a pelican-beach’ .But his world is ended there

‘,A soldier of the Union mustered out’ Is the inscription on an unknown grave

,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

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

,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

,I who am dead a thousand years ,And wrote this sweet archaic song Send you my words for messengers .The way I shall not pass along

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

,The shades of night were falling fast  As through an Alpine village passed  ,A youth, who bore, ‘mid snow and ice  ,A banner with the strange device 

!Come to me, O ye children ,For I hear you at your play And the questions that perplexed me .Have vanished quite away

,I am Ebenezer Bleezer ,I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE there are flavors in my freezer ,you have never seen before

,Be glad your nose is on your face ,not pasted on some other place ,for if it were where it is not .you might dislike your nose a lot

,The blushing dawn the easy illumes ,The birds their merry matins sing ,The buds breathe forth their sweet perfumes .And butterflies are on the wing

The fish are dreadful. They are brought up the mountain in the dawn most days, beautiful ,and alien and cold from night under the sea .the grand rooms fading from their flat eyes

—My Garden — like the Beach  —Denotes there be — a Sea 

,Pink, small, and punctual ,Aromatic, low ,Covert in April ,Candid in May

If ever the lid gets off my head And lets the brain away The fellow will go where he belonged Without a hint from me

–I’m “wife” – I’ve finished that  –That other state  –I’m Czar – I’m “Woman” now  –It’s safer so 

,Shall earth no more inspire thee  ?Thou lonely dreamer now  Since passion may not fire thee  ?Shall Nature cease to bow 

I am the only being whose doom No tongue would ask no eye would mourn I never caused a thought of gloom A smile of joy since I was born

,Make me a grave where’er you will ;In a lowly plain, or a lofty hill  ,Make it among earth’s humblest graves .But not in a land where men are slaves

on my block, a gate on my block, a tree smelling of citrus & jasmine that knocks me back into the arms of my dead

;Hope was but a timid friend ,She sat without the grated den ,Watching how my fate would tend .Even as selfish-hearted men

;I do not weep; I would not weep :Our mother needs no tears Dry thine eyes, too; ’tis vain to keep .This causeless grief for years

Today the children begin to hope for snow .and look in the sky for auguries of it .It is not for such omens that we wait Our world may not be settled by the slow

هي قصيدة للشاعرة إليزابيث جينينغز، تتحدث القصيدة عن التمريض والممرضات، يبدو أنّ الراوي يتعاطف معهم ويثني على العمل الذي يقومون به ولكن يبدو أنه يكافح لفهم كيفية قدرتهم على العمل.

;I kept my answers small and kept them near Big questions bruised my mind but still I let .Small answers be a bulwark to my fear

.At low tide like this how sheer the water is White, crumbling ribs of marl protrude and glare .and the boats are dry, the pilings dry as matches

Now watch this autumn that arrives ;In smells. All looks like summer still Colours are quite unchanged, the air .On green and white serenely thrives

هي قصيدة من تأليف الشاعرة إميلي ديكنسون، تستخدم الشاعرة نحلة لوصف طبيعة الشهرة العابرة، إنها تستخدم صورًا ذكية وكتابة شعرية أصلية طوال الوقت.

!Ah, Moon—and Star —You are very far But were no one —Farther than you