شعر إنجليزي

Summer dust settled over the garden in bloom and full of bees, their hives full of such marketable honey, you bought a jar. Then, amid the light blue

Two universes mosey down the street .Connected by love and a leash and nothing else Mostly I look at lamplight through the leaves ,While he mooches along with tail up and snout down

.I have had enough .I gasp for breath

You are clear ,O rose, cut in rock .hard as the descent of hail

Often I think of the beautiful town ;That is seated by the sea Often in thought go up and down ,The pleasant streets of that dear old town

,The day is ending ;The night is descending ,The marsh is frozen .The river dead 

,This is the place. Stand still, my steed ,Let me review the scene And summon from the shadowy Past .The forms that once have been

.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

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

,Ysinno cut the bamboo near Haniketta  And from those wattles made his hut And had nothing to cover it with, nothing Like a hundred and sixty .Bales of straw

He had driven half the night From far down San Joaquin Through Mariposa, up the ,Dangerous Mountain roads

I am vicious with love for the indigo snow .Untouched, as it blankets the river ,My mad love will undergo every woe .Every wet frigid grief will endure :My darling, my soul is a bottle of snow

Behind the facade of our big egos we constantly do hide And pride of five letters is only that just pride And some will even tell you pride comes before a fall

:The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day ,The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play ,And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same

You are running away from everyone ,who loves you ,from your family .from old lovers, from friends

Two butterflies went out at noon ,And waltzed above a stream Then stepped straight through the firmament ;And rested on a beam

,I am from clothespins .from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride .I am from the dirt under the back porch Black, glistening)

It was so simple: you came back to me And I was happy. Nothing seemed to matter But that. That you had gone away from me .And lived for days with him—it didn’t matter

The first time I walked ,With a girl, I was twelve Cold, and weighted down .With two oranges in my jacket December. Frost cracking

,My chalk is no longer than a chip of fingernail Chip by which I must explain this Monday ”.Night the verbs “to get;” “to wear,” “to cut ,I’m not given much, these tired students

When the foreman whistled My brother and I ,Shouldered our hoes .Leaving the field

It comes blundering over the Boulders at night, it stays Frightened outside the Range of my campfire

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر عزرا باوند، وهي قصيدة قصيرة لكنها قوية تستخدم التجاور والتباين لإنشاء صورة تشبه الفن للفراولة الحمراء والزرنيخ الأخضر.

—I shall not pass this way again ,Although it bordered be with flowers ,Although I rest in fragrant bowers

Amid the glare of light and song ,And talk that knows not when to cease ,The sullen voices of the throng ,My weary soul cries out for peace

?Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree !Tis a marvel of great renown‘ It blooms on the shore of the Lollypop sea ;In the garden of Shut-Eye Town

,I am two fools, I know For loving, and for saying so ;In whining poetry ,But where’s that wiseman, that would not be I

When my grave is broke up again ,Some second guest to entertain ,For graves have learn’d that woman head) (To be to more than one a bed

,Do you give yourself to me utterly Body and no-body, flesh and no-flesh ,Not as a fugitive, blindly or bitterly ?But as a child might, with no other wish