The line
that remained, that
became true: . . . your
house in Paris — become
the alterpiece of your hands.
Breathed through thrice,
shone through thrice.
……………….
It’s turning dumb, turning deaf
behind our eyes.
I see the poison flower
in all manner of words and shapes.
Go. Come.
Love blots out its name: to
you it ascribes itself.
Tr. Michael Hamburger
End of the poem
15 random poems
- To A Young Girl by William Butler Yeats
- Robert Burns: Epistle To John Goldie, In Kilmarnock: Author Of The Gospel Recovered.
- A Gravestone by William Allingham
- Oblivion by Satish Verma
- Robert Burns: Elegy On The Late Miss Burnet Of Monboddo :
- Владимир Солоухин – В лесу
- Alicante Lullaby by Sylvia Plath
- Константин Батюшков – Мадригал Мелине, которая называла себя нимфою
- The Survivor by Primo Levi
- Ольга Берггольц – Озерный край
- The Flight by Sara Teasdale
- Time Well-Served by Luis Estable
- Владимир Высоцкий – Нынче он закончил вехи
- The Boy by Vinko Kalinić
- To The Nameless Soldier
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).
