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
- Psalm 19: Coeli Enarrant by Sir Philip Sidney
- Orlando Furioso Canto 14 by Ludovico Ariosto
- Lament For The Two Brothers Slain By Each Others Hand
- Pure call of the wilderness by Vinko Kalinic
- Олег Григорьев – Люди
- Ship Starting, The. by Walt Whitman
- Carry Her Over the Water by W H Auden
- I Deserve It by Margaret Marie Hubbard
- To Lily poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Psalm 81 poem – John Milton poems
- Зинаида Александрова – Гибель Чапаева
- Олег Чупров – Не хочется мне славы громкой
- Dear Harp of my Country by Thomas Moore
- Now List to my Morning’s Romanza. by Walt Whitman
- Sonnet VI. To G. A. W. poem – John Keats 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).
