To Frank O’Hara
Sometimes when my eyes are red
I go up on top of the RCA Building
and gaze at my world, Manhattan-
my buildings, streets I’ve done feats in,
lofts, beds, coldwater flats
-on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind,
its ant cars, little yellow taxis, men
walking the size of specks of wool-
Panorama of the bridges, sunrise over Brooklyn machine,
sun go down over New Jersey where I was born
& Paterson where I played with ants-
my later loves on 15th Street,
my greater loves of Lower East Side,
my once fabulous amours in the Bronx
faraway-
paths crossing in these hidden streets,
my history summed up, my absences
and ecstasies in Harlem-
-sun shining down on all I own
in one eyeblink to the horizon
in my last eternity-
matter is water.
Sad,
I take the elevator and go
down, pondering,
and walk on the pavements staring into all man’s
plateglass, faces,
questioning after who loves,
and stop, bemused
in front of an automobile shopwindow
standing lost in calm thought,
traffic moving up & down 5th Avenue blocks behind me
waiting for a moment when …
Time to go home & cook supper & listen to
the romantic war news on the radio
… all movement stops
& I walk in the timeless sadness of existence,
tenderness flowing thru the buildings,
my fingertips touching reality’s face,
my own face streaked with tears in the mirror
of some window-at dusk-
where I have no desire-
for bonbons-or to own the dresses or Japanese
lampshades of intellection-
Confused by the spectacle around me,
Man struggling up the street
with packages, newspapers,
ties, beautiful suits
toward his desire
Man, woman, streaming over the pavements
red lights clocking hurried watches &
movements at the curb-
And all these streets leading
so crosswise, honking, lengthily,
by avenues
stalked by high buildings or crusted into slums
thru such halting traffic
screaming cars and engines
so painfully to this
countryside, this graveyard
this stillness
on deathbed or mountain
once seen
never regained or desired
in the mind to come
where all Manhattan that I’ve seen must disappear.
A few random poems:
- Betrayal poem – Alice Notley
- The Coo Of The Cushat
- Hunting-Song of the Seeonee Pack by Rudyard Kipling
- There Came a Soul by Rita Dove
- Sonnet 137: Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- The Survivor by Primo Levi
- Reconciliation. by Walt Whitman
- A Winter Night by Sara Teasdale
- If By Chance Your Eye Offend You poem – A. E. Housman
- City of Ships. by Walt Whitman
- Sonnet 150: O from what power hast thou this powerful might by William Shakespeare
- Юлия Жадовская – Я все хочу расслушать
- Федор Сологуб – Во мне мечты мои цветут
- Crazy Insane by Stephen Sweitzer
- Sonnet 110: Alas, ’tis true, I have gone here and there by William Shakespeare
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
- Юрий Котов – Ты что-же боль, меня не отпускаешь
- Юрий Коринец – Тишина
- Юрий Коринец – Стихи о вшах
- Юрий Коринец – Старухи
- Юрий Коринец – Отцовская песня
- Юрий Коринец – О стиральной машине
- Юрий Коринец – О счастье
- Юрий Коринец – Не кажется ли вам
- Юрий Коринец – Март
- Юрий Коринец – Листопад
- Юрий Коринец – Кто очень болен
- Юрий Коринец – Дедовский подарок
- Юрий Коринец – Царь-баба
- Юрий Калугин – Счастье любит тишину
- Юрий Галансков – Вступление к поэме “Апельсиновая шкура”
- Юрий Галансков – Утро
- Юрий Галансков – Справедливости окровавленные уста
- Юрий Галансков – Шиповник
- Юрий Галансков – Рванулось пламя из ствола
- Юрий Галансков – Он к нам придёт
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
