قصيدة Some Rainbow coming from the Fair
!Some Rainbow – coming from the Fair –Some Vision of the World Cashmere !I confidently see Or else a Peacock’s purple Train
!Some Rainbow – coming from the Fair –Some Vision of the World Cashmere !I confidently see Or else a Peacock’s purple Train
How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom
—From Blank to Blank A Threadless Way —I pushed Mechanic feet
A light exists in spring Not present on the year .At any other period When March is scarcely here
,About the Shark, phlegmatical one ,Pale sot of the Maldive sea ,The sleek little pilot-fish, azure and slim .How alert in attendance be
As every flower fades and as all youth ,Departs, so life at every stage ,So every virtue, so our grasp of truth .Blooms in its day and may not last forever
هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر جريجوري أور، وهي قصيدة مثيرة للاهتمام ومؤثرة حول العلاقات السابقة لشخص ما، يعلنهم المتحدث حجرًا ويقويهم في حياتهم إلى الأبد. ملخص قصيدة Origin of the Marble Forest القصيدة قصيرة جدًا لكن في سطورها الموجزة ينقل المتحدث عمق الشعور، بسبب عدم وجود تفاصيل محددة، فإنّ القصيدة هي أيضًا ذات صلة […]
You were water to me deep and bold and fathoming
How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest ,The seagull’s wings shall dip and pivot him Shedding white rings of tumult, building high —Over the chained bay waters Liberty
super-cool ultrablack a tan/purple .had a beautiful shade
.We walk the lanes to pick them" Ffwff-ffwffs'. He gives them the name' '!he gives to all flowers. 'Fftwff! Ffwffs I teach him to tell the time
He blunders through the last dream .of the night. I hear him, waking A brick and concrete stall, narrow as a heifer’s haunches. Steel bars
To live in the Borderlands means you are neither hispana india negra espanola ni gabacha, eres mestiza, mulata, half-breed caught in the crossfire between camps
,I slept in a room in the roof the white planes of its ceiling ,freckled with light from the sea or at night leaf shadows .from the street-lamp in the lane
.Death is nothing at all .I have only slipped away to the next room .I am I and you are you ,Whatever we were to each other .That, we still are
?What does he plant who plants a tree ;He plants a friend of sun and sky ;He plants the flag of breezes free ;The shaft of beauty, towering high
Henry Barlow (Uganda) Today I did my share .In building the nation I drove a Permanent Secretary
هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعرة هيلين هانت جاكسون، وهي قصيدة تتحدث عن مدى ميل الذكريات المؤسفة للماضي إلى مطاردتنا. ملخص قصيدة Dreams القصيدة تمتد على مدار أربعة عشر سطراً، تغطي هيلين هانت جاكسون الآثار السلبية للأحلام على حياتنا، إنها تستهدف على وجه التحديد كيف تعيد الأحلام غالبًا إحياء الذكريات المحزنة لماضينا وبطريقة ما، تجعلنا […]
,Who’s for the game, the biggest that’s played ?The red crashing game of a fight ?Who’ll grip and tackle the job unafraid ?And who thinks he’d rather sit tight
,Seems lak to me de stars don’t shine so bright ,Seems lak to me de sun done loss his light ,Seems lak to me der’s nothin’ goin’ right .Sence you went away
,Eternities before the first-born day ,Or ere the first sun fledged his wings of flame ,Calm Night, the everlasting and the same .A brooding mother over chaos lay
Six humans trapped by happenstance .In bleak and bitter cold Each one possessed a stick of wood Or so the story’s told
Summer brings out the girls in their green dresses ,Whom the foolish might compare to daffodils ,Not seeing how a dead grandmother in each one governs her limbs ,Darkening the bright corolla, using her lips to speak through Or that a silver torque was woven out of .The roots of wet speargrass
يكاد يكون من المؤكد أنّ القصيدة مبنية على فقدان جون بيتجمان لوالده مما يجعل الأمر أكثر إثارة للمشاعر، يحتوي مقطع القصيدة بالكامل تقريبًا على نمط ينعكس من خلاله الراوي بشكل إيجابي على الوقت الذي يقضيه مع والده ثم ينتهي بملاحظة قاسية وهو يصف حقيقة الموت. ملخص قصيدة On A Portrait Of A Deaf Man […]
What I love about love is its diagnosis What I hate about love is its prognosis What I hate about love is its me me me What I love about love is its Eat-me/Drink-me
The sun has burst the sky Because I love you .And the river its banks
The sky, lazily disdaining to pursue The setting sun, too indolent to hold ,A lengthened tournament for flashing gold ,Passively darkens for night’s barbecue
,Twinkle, twinkle, little star !How I wonder what you are ,Up above the world so high .Like a diamond in the sky
She died in the upstairs bedroom By the light of the ev'ning star That shone through the plate glass window From over Leamington Spa
Is there a name for that thing ?you do when you are young ,There must be a word for it in some language probably German, or if not just