شعر إنجليزي

Alaska's rape dismemberment disassembled piece by piece and shipped to the lower

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

.Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew ,It's the same when love comes to an end or the marriage fails and people say they knew it was a mistake, that everybody

.I am spending my time imagining the worst that could happen I know this is not a good idea, and that being in love, I could be .spending my time going over the best that has been happening

;The spring is coming by a many signs ,The trays are up, the hedges broken down That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines .Like some old antique fragment weathered brown

It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand Caverns, till the spell .Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound

There was the summer. There ,Warm hours of leaf-lipped song .And dripping amber sweat O sweet to see

The morning road is thronged with merry boys ;Who seek the water for their Sunday joys

;Thou Winter, thou art keen, intensely keen ,Thy cutting frowns experience bids me know ,For in thy weather days and days I’ve been ,As grinning north-winds horribly did blow

,I loved thee, though I told thee not ,Right earlily and long ,Thou wert my joy in every spot .My theme in every song

Give me your patience, sister, while I frame ;Exact in capitals your golden name Or sue the fair Apollo and he will Rouse from his heavy slumber and instill

,O soft embalmer of the still midnight ,Shutting, with careful fingers and benign ,Our gloom-pleas’d eyes, embower’d from the light :Enshaded in forgetfulness divine

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 […]

The bus sweeps past the swinging trees And the road unwinds long and cold The chassis creaks with the load .And jolts to a halt by the road

In western lands beneath the Sun ,the flowers may rise in Spring ,the trees may bud, the waters run .the merry finches sing

,How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth !Stol’n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year

,Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir ,Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine ,With a cargo of ivory ,And apes and peacocks .Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine

I died for beauty, but was scarce ,Adjusted in the tomb When one who died for truth was lain .In an adjoining room

Apparently with no surprise To any happy Flower –The Frost beheads it at it’s play –In accidental power

,A drop fell on the apple tree ;Another on the roof ,A half a dozen kissed the eaves .And made the gables laugh

—The Wind — tapped like a tired Man ”And like a Host — “Come in I boldly answered — entered then My Residence within

The Bustle in a House The Morning after Death Is solemnest of industries –Enacted opon Earth

–To fight aloud, is very brave  But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom –The Cavalry of Woe

,There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House —As lately as Today  I know it, by the numb look —Such Houses have — alway 

–I dwell in Possibility  –A fairer House than Prose  –More numerous of Windows  –Superior – for Doors 

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