O you wind rose of torment!
Torn by primeval storms
In ever changing directions of the tempests;
Yet your south is loneliness,
Where you stand is the navel of pain.
Your eyes are sunk deep into your skull
Like cave-dwelling doves in the night
Brought out blind by the huntsman,
Your voice is silenced
From asking too many whys,
To the worms and the fishes your voice has gone.
Job, you have wept through all the watches of the night
But some day the star sign of your blood will
Outshine all the rising suns.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Такахама Кёси – Иокогама в утро моего возвращения из Франции
- Жан де Лафонтен – Волк, Мать и Ребенок
- If I could tell you by W. H. Auden
- The Garden poem – Andrew Marvell poems
- Heroic Simile by Robert Hass
- The Lighted Window by Sara Teasdale
- The Night poem – Alexander Pushkin
- To The Honble Commodore Hood on His Pardoning a Deserter by Phillis Wheatley
- In Tempore Senectutis poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Henry Purcell poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Epigram on Andrew Turner by Robert Burns
- Dirce by Walter Savage Landor
- Invern poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Fine Apricot Lodge by Wang Wei
- To R. B. poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
