قصائد أجنبية

,The night we fled the country, Papi ,you told me we were going to the beach ,hurried me to get dressed along with the others while posted at a window, you looked out

.I should have visited more often .I should have taken the sour pudding they offered .I should have danced that lousy beggar shuffle .I should have painted their rooms in a brighter color

!His Grace! impossible! what dead !Of old age too, and in his bed ?And could that mighty warrior fall !And so inglorious, after all

,Jamie MacCrystal sang to himself ;A broken song without tune, without words ,He tipped me a penny every pension day .Fed kindly crusts to winter birds

All legendary obstacles lay between ,Us, the long imaginary plain The monstrous ruck of mountains ,And, swinging across the night

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر جون مونتاغ، تحتوي القصيدة على ذكريات المتحدث المليئة بالحنين إلى العمل الروتيني الذي أكمله في شبابه.

,We match paces along the Hill Head Road ;the road to the old churchyard of Errigal Keerogue .its early cross, a heavy stone hidden in grass

:All around, shards of a lost tradition From the Rough Field I went to school In the Glen of the Hazels. Close by ;Was the bishopric of the Golden Stone

,Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race ,Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours ;Whose speed is but the heavy Plummets pace ,And glut thy self with what thy womb devours

Silent are the woods, and the dim green boughs are Hushed in the twilight: yonder, in the path through The apple orchard, is a tired plough-boy .Calling the cows home

,I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky ;And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by ,And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking .And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر جون مارك جرين، وهي قصيدة حب تتحدث عن المدى الذي سيذهب إليه شخص لآخر.

It’s like living in a light bulb, with the leaves Like filaments and the sky a shell of thin, transparent glass Enclosing the late heaven of a summer day, a canopy .Of incandescent blue above the dappled sunlight golden on the grass

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر جون كيتس، يخاطب الشاعر عبر هذه السونيتة نهر النيل مباشرة على غرار قصائده العظيمة مثل قصيدة الخريف أو القصيدة على جرة إغريقية، يبدو أنّ الشاعر قد استيقظ من أحلام اليقظة بسحر النيل وبدأ يفكر في الجمال الطبيعي للنهر.

,One morn before me were three figures seen ;With bowèd necks, and joinèd hands, side-faced ,And one behind the other stepp’d serene ;In placid sandals, and in white robes graced

,There was a naughty boy ,A naughty boy was he ,He would not stop at home -He could not quiet be

I have done one braver thing ,Than all the Worthies did ,And yet a braver thence doth spring .Which is, to keep that hid

,Now thou has loved me one whole day ?Tomorrow when you leav’st, what wilt thou say ?Wilt thou then antedate some new-made vow Or say that now

,Whoever comes to shroud me, do not harm ,Nor question much ;That subtle wreath of hair, which crowns my arm ;The mystery, the sign, you must not touch

For the first twenty years since yesterday ;I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away ,For forty more I fed on favors past .And forty on hopes that thou wouldst they might last

,No man is an island .Entire of itself ,Each is a piece of the continent .A part of the main

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر جون دون، موجهة إلى عاشقة الشاعر، يطلب منها أن تتقبله عند عودته لها، على الرغم من حقيقة أنه سيبدو ويتصرف بشكل مختلف عما كان عليه.   ملخص قصيدة Elegy V His Picture   المعنى من القصيدة هو أنه على الرغم من أنّ طبيعة محبة المتحدث ستتغير، إلا أنه يعتقد بثقة كبيرة […]

?Tis true, ’tis day; what though it be ?O wilt thou therefore rise from me ?Why should we rise, because ’tis light ?Did we lie down, because ’twas night

,As virtuous men pass mildly away ,And whisper to their souls to go Whilst some of their sad friends do say :The breath goes now, and some say, No

I ne’er was struck before that hour ,With love so sudden and so sweet Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower .And stole my heart away complete

-Today as we flew the kites the sand spinning off in ribbons along the beach and that gasoline smell from Leuchars gusting across ;the golf links

,Up the ash tree climbs the ivy ,Up the ivy climbs the sun ,With a twenty-thousand pattering ,Has a valley breeze begun

!Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough ,It isn't fit for humans now .There isn't grass to graze a cow !Swarm over, Death

,Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Miss J.Hunter Dunn ,Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun ,What strenuous singles we played after tea !We in the tournament - you against me

The first of the undecoded messages read: "Popeye sits ,in thunder ,Unthought of. From that shoebox of an apartment ".From livid curtain's hue, a tangram emerges: a country