As to a northern people (whom the sun
Uses just as the Romish church has done
Her prophane laity, and does assign
Bread only both to serve for bread and wine)
A rich Canary fleet welcome arrives;
Such comfort to us here your letter gives,
Fraught with brisk racy verses; in which we
The soil from whence they came, taste, smell, and see:
Such is your present to us; for you must know,
Sir, that verse does not in this island grow,
No more than sack; one lately did not fear
(Without the Muses’ leave) to plant it here;
But it produc’d such base, rough, crabbed, hedge-
Rhymes, as ev’n set the hearers’ ears on edge:
Written by – – Esquire, the
Year of our Lord six hundred thirty-three.
Brave Jersey Muse! and he’s for this high style
Call’d to this day the Homer of the Isle.
Alas! to men here no words less hard be
To rhyme with, than * Mount Orgueil is to me;
Mount Orgueil! which, in scorn o’ th’ Muses’ law,
With no yoke-fellow word will deign to draw.
Stubborn Mount Orgueil! ‘t is a work to make it
Come into rhyme, more hard than ‘t were to take it.
Alas! to bring your tropes and figures here,
Strange as to bring camels and elephants were;
And metaphor is so unknown a thing,
‘T would need the preface of “God save the King.”
Yet this I’ll say, for th’ honour of the place,
That, by God’s extraordinary grace
(Which shows the people have judgment, if not wit)
The land is undefil’d with Clinches yet;
Which, in my poor opinion, I confess,
Is a most singular blessing, and no less
Than Ireland’s wanting spiders. And, so far
From th’ actual sin of bombast too they are,
(That other crying sin o’ th’ English Muse)
That even Satan himself can accuse
None here (no not so much as the divines)
For th’ motus primò primi to strong lines.
Well, since the soil then does not naturally bear
Verse, who (a devil) should import it here?
For that to me would seem as strange a thing
As who did first wild beasts into islands bring;
Unless you think that it might taken be
As Green did Gondibert, in a prize at sea:
But that’s a fortune falls not every day;
‘Tis true Green was made by it; for they say
The parliament did a noble bounty do,
And gave him the whole prize, their tenths and fifteens too.
A few random poems:
- Ольга Берггольц – Второй разговор с соседкой
- Forgotten by Priya Prithviraj
- Autum by T.S. Hulme
- Collecting Milkweed by Satish Verma
- Towards Understanding, Through Poetry
- Владимир Маяковский – Порт
- Joy and Pleasure by William Henry Davies
- Юлия Друнина – В сорок пятом
- Past One O’Clock … by Vladimir Mayakovsky
- Protest poem by Susan King Saunders
- Алексей Толстой – Прогулка с подругой жизни
- English Poetry. Philip James Bailey. Festus – 21.1. Филип Джеймс Бэйли.
- Schlummerland – Slumberland / CD by Roland Zoss
- Coming Through The Rye by Robert Burns
- Hamlet As Told On The Street by Shel Silverstein
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Омар Хайям – Из допущенных в рай и повергнутых в ад
- Омар Хайям – Имей друзей поменьше, не расширяй их круг
- Омар Хайям – И теперь живу под гнетом страха
- Омар Хайям – И сиянье рая, и ада огни
- Омар Хайям – Грех Хайям совершил и совсем занемог
- Омар Хайям – Где вы, друзья! Где вольный ваш припев?
- Омар Хайям – Этот мастер всевышний
- Омар Хайям – Это время любви, словно тёплая осень
- Омар Хайям – Есть много вер, и все несхожи
- Омар Хайям – Если жизнь все равно неизбежно пройдет
- Омар Хайям – Если все государства, вблизи и вдали
- Омар Хайям – Если ты не впадаешь в молитвенный раж
- Омар Хайям – Если счастлив от счастья
- Омар Хайям – Если любишь, то стойко разлуку терпи
- Омар Хайям – Если гурия страстно целует в уста
- Омар Хайям – Если есть у тебя для жилья закуток
- Омар Хайям – Если бог не услышит меня в вышине
- Омар Хайям – Египет, Рим, Китай держи ты под пятой
- Омар Хайям – Двести лет проживешь, или тысячу лет
- Омар Хайям – Душой ты безбожник с Писаньем в руке
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Abraham Cowley (1618 – 1667), the Royalist Poet.Poet and essayist Abraham Cowley was born in London, England, in 1618. He displayed early talent as a poet, publishing his first collection of poetry, Poetical Blossoms (1633), at the age of 15. Cowley studied at Cambridge University but was stripped of his Cambridge fellowship during the English Civil War and expelled for refusing to sign the Solemn League and Covenant of 1644. In turn, he accompanied Queen Henrietta Maria to France, where he spent 12 years in exile, serving as her secretary. During this time, Cowley completed The Mistress (1647). Arguably his most famous work, the collection exemplifies Cowley’s metaphysical style of love poetry. After the Restoration, Cowley returned to England, where he was reinstated as a Cambridge fellow and earned his MD before finally retiring to the English countryside. He is buried at Westminster Abbey alongside Geoffrey Chaucer and Edmund Spenser. Cowley is a wonderful poet and an outstanding representative of the English baroque.