A poem by Aeschylus (c. 525 – c. 456 Before Christ )
The night was passing, and the Grecian host
By no means sought to issue forth unseen.
But when indeed the day with her white steeds
Held all the earth, resplendent to behold,
First from the Greeks the loud-resounding din
Of song triumphant came; and shrill at once
Echo responded from the island rock.
Then upon all barbarians terror fell,
Thus disappointed; for not as for flight
The Hellenes sang the holy pæan then,
But setting forth to battle valiantly.
The bugle with its note inflamed them all;
And straightway with the dip of plashing oars
They smote the deep sea water at command,
And quickly all were plainly to be seen.
Their right wing first in orderly array
Led on, and second all the armament
Followed them forth; and meanwhile there was heard
A mighty shout: “Come, O ye sons of Greeks,
Make free your country, make your children free,
Your wives, and fanes of your ancestral gods,
And your sires’ tombs! For all we now contend!”
And from our side the rush of Persian speech
Replied. No longer might the crisis wait.
At once ship smote on ship with brazen beak;
A vessel of the Greeks began the attack,
Crushing the stem of a Phoenician ship.
Each on a different vessel turned its prow.
At first the current of the Persian host
Withstood; but when within the strait the throng
Of ships was gathered, and they could not aid
Each other, but by their own brazen bows
Were struck, they shattered all our naval host.
The Grecian vessels not unskillfully
Were smiting round about; the hulls of ships
Were overset; the sea was hid from sight,
Covered with wreckage and the death of men;
The reefs and headlands were with corpses filled,
And in disordered flight each ship was rowed,
As many as were of the Persian host.
But they, like tunnies or some shoal of fish,
With broken oars and fragments of the wrecks
Struck us and clove us; and at once a cry
Of lamentation filled the briny sea,
Till the black darkness’ eye did rescue us.
The number of our griefs, not though ten days
I talked together, could I fully tell;
But this know well, that never in one day
Perished so great a multitude of men.
A few random poems:
- When I Watch the Living Meet poem – Alfred Edward Housman
- Олег Григорьев – Кресло рассохлось
- The Lover’s Song by William Butler Yeats
- Алексей Толстой – То было раннею весной
- Robert Burns: Down The Burn, Davie:
- La Regina Avrillouse poem – Ezra Pound poems
- As With A Senryu S Hardening Ridge
- Lohengrin poem – Amy Levy poems | Poems and Poetry
- Passion of Greatness by Terence Ray Robertson
- Яков Полонский – Поцелуй
- On Time poem – John Milton poems
- Николай Гумилев – За часом час бежит и падает во тьму
- Hex by Rachel McKibbens
- The Circus Animals’ Desertion by William Butler Yeats
- Валерий Брюсов – Где-то
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
- Here’s to the Mice! by Vachel Lindsay
- On the Road to Nowhere by Vachel Lindsay
- Heart of God by Vachel Lindsay
- On the Garden Wall by Vachel Lindsay
- On the Building of Springfield by Vachel Lindsay
- On Reading Omar Khayyam by Vachel Lindsay
- Niagara by Vachel Lindsay
- My Lady in Her White Silk Shawl by Vachel Lindsay
- Michaelangelo by Vachel Lindsay
- Mark Twain and Joan of Arc by Vachel Lindsay
- Love and Law by Vachel Lindsay
- Look You, I’ll Go Pray by Vachel Lindsay
- Lincoln by Vachel Lindsay
- King Arthur’s Men Have Come Again by Vachel Lindsay
- Incense by Vachel Lindsay
- In Praise of Songs that Die by Vachel Lindsay
- In Memory of a Child by Vachel Lindsay
- I Went Down into the Desert by Vachel Lindsay
- I Heard Immanuel Singing by Vachel Lindsay
- How Samson Bore Away the Gates of Gaza by Vachel Lindsay
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
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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
Aeschylus (525 Before Christ to 456 B.C.) was an ancient Greek author of Greek tragedy, and is often described as the father of tragedy. Academics’ knowledge of the genre begins with his work, and understanding of earlier Greek tragedy is largely based on inferences made from reading his surviving plays. According to Aristotle, he expanded the number of characters in the theatre and allowed conflict among them.