قصائد أجنبية

,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

A light exists in spring Not present on the year .At any other period When March is scarcely here

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

!Some Rainbow – coming from the Fair –Some Vision of the World Cashmere !I confidently see Or else a Peacock’s purple Train

: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

–It sifts from Leaden Sieves  .It powders all the Wood It fills with Alabaster Wool –The Wrinkles of the Road 

:A bird came down the walk ;He did not know I saw He bit an angle-worm in halves .And ate the fellow, raw

I years had been from Home And now before the Door I dared not enter, lest a Face I never saw before

I measure every Grief I meet –With narrow, probing, eyes  –I wonder if It weighs like Mine  .Or has an Easier size

How happy is the little stone ,That rambles in the road alone ,And doesn’t care about careers ;And exigencies never fears

,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

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

?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 […]

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