قصائد أجنبية

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعرة جسينا ملوبي، وهي صرخة حشد للنساء للوقوف في وجه مضطهديهن في جميع أنحاء القارة الأفريقية.

Lay down these words .Before your mind like rocks placed solid, by hands In choice of place, set

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر غالواي كينيل، وهي قصيدة جميلة عن الأبوة والحب، تقدم هذه القطعة مشهدًا مألوفًا غالبًا ما يحدث في حياة الزوجين.   ملخص قصيدة After Making Love We Hear Footsteps   ظهرت هذه القصيدة في مجموعة شعر (Galway Kinnell ،Mortal Acts ،Mortal Words)، التي نُشرت في عام 1980، وهي القصيدة الثانية المتعلقة بالقطعة […]

It is 12:20 in New York a Friday three days after Bastille day, yes it is 1959 and I go get a shoeshine because I will get off the 4:19 in Easthampton

.I am not a painter, I am a poet Why? I think I would rather be ,a painter, but I am not. Well

Lana Turner has collapsed! I was trotting along and suddenly it started raining and snowing and you said it was hailing

a man who had fallen among thieves lay by the roadside on his back dressed in fifteenthrate ideas wearing a round jeer for a hat

Like a skein of loose silk blown against a wall ,She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens And she is dying piece-meal .of a sort of emotional anemia

.Don't be polite .Bite in Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that .may run down your chin

Coming home is terrible ;whether the dogs lick your face or not whether you have a wife .or just a wife-shaped loneliness waiting for you

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night    —,Sailed off in a wooden shoe Sailed on a river of crystal light

;He tried to spit out the truth ,Dry-mouthed at first

,A thin wet sky, that yellows at the rim .And meets with sun-lost lip the marsh’s brim ,The pools low lying, dank with moss and mould

.Your Riches — taught me — Poverty Myself — a Millionaire In little Wealths, as Girls could boast —Till broad as Buenos Ayre 

,There is another sky ,Ever serene and fair ,And there is another sunshine ;Though it be darkness there

The past is such a curious creature To look her in the face A transport may reward us Or a disgrace

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعرة إميلي ديكنسون، وهي قصيدة مدروسة وقصيرة، يتعلق الأمر بمدى ضآلة قدرتنا على التحكم في حياتنا اليومية.

If those I loved were lost —The Crier’s voice would tell me  If those I loved were found —The bells of Ghent would ring 

–I like to see it lap the Miles  –And lick the Valleys up  –And stop to feed itself at Tanks  And then – prodigious step

—I cannot live with You  —It would be Life —And Life is over there  Behind the Shelf

How happy is the little Stone ,That rambles in the Road alone And doesn’t care about Careers —And Exigencies never fears

,He ate and drank the precious words ;His spirit grew robust ,He knew no more that he was poor .Nor that his frame was dust

,A Coffin—is a small Domain Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise .In it diminished Plane

—I could bring You Jewels—had I a mind to —But You have enough—of those —I could bring You Odors from St. Domingo —Colors—from Vera Cruz

—The Brain—is wider than the Sky  —For—put them side by side The one the other will contain —With ease—and you—beside

,Love is like the wild rose-briar —Friendship like the holly-tree The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms ?But which will bloom most constantly

:Silent is the house: all are laid asleep ,One alone looks out o’er the snow-wreaths deep Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze

,Tell me, tell me, smiling child ?What the past is like to thee ‘An Autumn evening soft and mild ’.With a wind that sighs mournfully

No coward soul is mine  No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere  I see Heaven’s glories shine  And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear 

,Come, walk with me There’s only thee –To bless my spirit now  We used to love on winter nights