English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. The Child on the Curbstone. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) The Child on the Curbstone The headlights raced; the moon, death-faced, Stared down on that golden river. I saw through the smoke the scarlet cloak Of a boy who could not shiver. His father’s hand forced him to stand, […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Spring Pastoral. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Spring Pastoral Liza, go steep your long white hands In the cool waters of that spring Which bubbles up through shiny sands The colour of a wild-dove’s wing. Dabble your hands, and steep them well Until those nails […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Silver Filigree. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Silver Filigree The icicles wreathing On trees in festoon Swing, swayed to our breathing: They’re made of the moon. She’s a pale, waxen taper; And these seem to drip Transparent as paper From the flame of […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Sanctuary. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Sanctuary This is the bricklayer; hear the thud Of his heavy load dumped down on stone. His lustrous bricks are brighter than blood, His smoking mortar whiter than bone. Set each sharp-edged, fire-bitten brick Straight by the plumb-line’s […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Quarrel. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Quarrel Let us quarrel for these reasons: You detest the salt which seasons My speech . . . and all my lights go out In the cold poison of your doubt. I love Shelley . . . you love […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Prophecy. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Prophecy I shall die hidden in a hut In the middle of an alder wood, With the back door blind and bolted shut, And the front door locked for good. I shall lie folded like a saint, Lapped in a scented linen […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Poor Earth. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Poor Earth It is not heaven: bitter seed Leavens its entrails with despair It is a star where dragons breed: Devils have a footing there. The sky has bent it out of shape; The sun has strapped it […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Phases of the Moon. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Phases of the Moon Once upon a time I heard That the flying moon was a Phoenix bird; Thus she sails through windy skies, Thus in the willow’s arms she lies; Turn to the East or turn to the […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 35. On Music. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 35. Музыка
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 35. On Music When thro’ life unblest we rove, Losing all that made life dear, Should some notes we used to love, In days of boyhood, meet our ear, Oh! how welcome breathes the strain! Wakening thoughts that long have slept; […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Ophelia. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Ophelia My locks are shorn for sorrow Of love which may not be; Tomorrow and tomorrow Are plotting cruelty. The winter wind tangles These ringlets half-grown, The sun sprays with spangles And rays like his own. […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. October. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) October Beauty has a tarnished dress, And a patchwork cloak of cloth Dipped deep in mournfulness, Striped like a moth. Wet grass where it trails Dyes it green along the hem; She has seven silver veils […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Nadir. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Nadir If we must cheat ourselves with any dream, Then let it be a dream of nobleness: Since it is necessary to express Gall from black grapes–to sew an endless seam With a rusty needle–chase a spurious gleam […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 29. While Gazing on the Moon’s Light. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 29. While Gazing on the Moon’s Light WHILE gazing on the moon’s light, A moment from her smile I turn’d, To look at orbs that, more bright, In lone and distant glory burn’d. But too far Each proud star, For me […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Winter. Zittèn out the Wold Year. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Winter. Zittèn out the Wold Year Why, raïn or sheen, or blow or snow, I zaid, if I could stand so’s, I’d come, vor all a friend or foe, To sheäke ye by the hand, so’s; An’ spend, wi’ kinsvo’k near an’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas An’ zoo you didden come athirt, To have zome fun last night: how wer’t? Vor we’d a-work’d wi’ all our might To scour the iron things up bright, An’ brush’d an’ scrubb’d the house all drough; An’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead If I had all the land my zight Can overlook vrom Chalwell hill, Vrom Sherborn left to Blanvord right, Why I could be but happy still. An’ I be happy wi’ my spot O’ freehold ground an’ mossy […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Riddles. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Riddles Anne an’ Joey a-ta’ken. A. A plague! theäse cow wont stand a bit, Noo sooner do she zee me zit Ageän her, than she’s in a trot, A-runnèn to zome other spot. J. Why ’tis the dog do sceäre […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 62. Come O’er the Sea. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 62. «С подругою – в море!»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 62. Come O’er the Sea Come o’er the sea, Maiden! With me, Mine thro’ sunshine, storm, and snows; Seasons may roll, But the true soul Burns the same, where’er it goes. Let fate frown on, so we love and part not; […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. An Argument. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) An Argument I’ve oft been told by learned friars, That wishing and the crime are one, And Heaven punishes desires As much as if the deed were done. If wishing damns us, you and I Are damned to all our heart’s content; Come, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 38. Love’s Young Dream. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 38. Сон юной любви
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 38. Love’s Young Dream OH! the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart’s chain wove; When my dream of life, from morn till night, Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come, Of milder calmer beam, […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 12. The Meeting of the Waters. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 12. The Meeting of the Waters There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Madman’s Song. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Madman’s Song Better to see your cheek grown hollow, Better to see your temple worn, Than to forget to follow, follow, After the sound of a silver horn. Better to bind your brow with willow And follow, follow […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Les Lauriers Sont Coupée. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Les Lauriers Sont Coupée Ah, love, within the shadow of the wood The laurels are cut down; some other brows May bear the classic wreath which Fame allows And find the burden honorable and good. Have we not passed the […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Escape. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Escape When foxes eat the last gold grape, And the last white antelope is killed, I shall stop fighting and escape Into a little house I’ll build. But first I’ll shrink to fairy size, With a whisper no […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Cold-Blooded Creatures. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Cold-Blooded Creatures Man, the egregious egoist (In mystery the twig is bent) Imagines, by some mental twist, That he alone is sentient Of the intolerable load That on all living creatures lies, Nor stoops to pity in the toad The speechless sorrow […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Beauty. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Beauty Say not of beauty she is good, Or aught but beautiful, Or sleek to doves’ wings of the wood Her wild wings of a gull. Call her not wicked; that word’s touch Consumes her like a curse; […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. August. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) August Why should this Negro insolently stride Down the red noonday on such noiseless feet? Piled in his barrow, tawnier than wheat, Lie heaps of smouldering daisies, sombre-eyed, Their copper petals shriveled up with pride, Hot with a […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. A Proud Lady. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) A Proud Lady Hate in the world’s hand Can carve and set its seal Like the strong blast of sand Which cuts into steel. I have seen how the finger of hate Can mar and mould Faces burned […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 29. While Gazing on the Moon’s Light. Томас Мур.
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 29. While Gazing on the Moon’s Light WHILE gazing on the moon’s light, A moment from her smile I turn’d, To look at orbs that, more bright, In lone and distant glory burn’d. But too far Each proud star, For me […]
English Poetry. Elinor Wylie. Fire and Sleet and Candlelight. Элинор Уайли.
Elinor Wylie (Элинор Уайли) Fire and Sleet and Candlelight For this you’ve striven Daring, to fail: Your sky is riven Like a tearing veil. For this, you’ve wasted Wings of your youth; Divined, and tasted Bitter springs of truth. From sand unslakèd Twisted strong cords, And […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Winter. Zittèn out the Wold Year. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Winter. Zittèn out the Wold Year Why, raïn or sheen, or blow or snow, I zaid, if I could stand so’s, I’d come, vor all a friend or foe, To sheäke ye by the hand, so’s; An’ spend, wi’ kinsvo’k near an’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas An’ zoo you didden come athirt, To have zome fun last night: how wer’t? Vor we’d a-work’d wi’ all our might To scour the iron things up bright, An’ brush’d an’ scrubb’d the house all drough; An’ […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Hwomestead If I had all the land my zight Can overlook vrom Chalwell hill, Vrom Sherborn left to Blanvord right, Why I could be but happy still. An’ I be happy wi’ my spot O’ freehold ground an’ mossy […]
English Poetry. William Barnes. Second Collection. Riddles. Уильям Барнс.
William Barnes (Уильям Барнс) Second Collection. Riddles Anne an’ Joey a-ta’ken. A. A plague! theäse cow wont stand a bit, Noo sooner do she zee me zit Ageän her, than she’s in a trot, A-runnèn to zome other spot. J. Why ’tis the dog do sceäre […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. The New Decalogue. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) The New Decalogue Have but one God: thy knees were sore If bent in prayer to three or four. Adore no images save those The coinage of thy country shows. Take not the Name in vain. Direct Thy swearing unto […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. A Wreath of Immortelles. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) A Wreath of Immortelles Judge Sawyer, whom in vain the people tried To push from power, here is laid aside. Death only from the bench could ever start The sluggish load of his immortal part. ________ For those this mausoleum […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. With a Book. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) With a Book Words shouting, singing, smiling, frowning– Sense lacking. Ah, nothing, more obscure than Browning, Save blacking. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce’s other poems: To the Bartholdi Statue Decalogue Rimer The New Decalogue A Wreath of Immortelles 901 To […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. Rimer. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) Rimer The rimer quenches his unheeded fires, The sound surceases and the sense expires. Then the domestic dog, to east and west, Expounds the passions burning in his breast. The rising moon o’er that enchanted land Pauses to hear and yearns to […]
English Poetry. Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce. Decalogue. Амброз Гвиннет Бирс.
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce (Амброз Гвиннет Бирс) Decalogue Thou shalt no God but me adore: ‘Twere too expensive to have more. No images nor idols make For Roger Ingersoll to break. Take not God’s name in vain: select A time when it will have effect. Work […]
English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 62. Come O’er the Sea. Томас Мур. Из цикла «Ирландские мелодии». 62. «С подругою – в море!»
Thomas Moore (Томас Мур) From “Irish Melodies”. 62. Come O’er the Sea Come o’er the sea, Maiden! With me, Mine thro’ sunshine, storm, and snows; Seasons may roll, But the true soul Burns the same, where’er it goes. Let fate frown on, so we love and part not; […]