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
- He Has Lived In Many Houses by Thomas Lux
- Sonet 54 by William Alexander
- Conscience by Walter William Safar
- The Fountain by Sara Teasdale
- The Palace of Art poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Олег Бундур – Время со Светой
- Олег Григорьев – Ты боишься высоты
- woken_up_by_beautiful_dreams.html
- Олег Бундур – Добрый день
- Lines to a Gentleman who sent a Newspaper by Robert Burns
- Ольга Берггольц – Огонь, и воду, и медные трубы
- still the leaves fall… and dream by Steve Troyanovich
- When The Green Lies Over The Earth poem – Angelina Weld Grimke poems | Poems and Poetry
- The General by Siegfried Sassoon
- Antaeus: [A Fragment] by Wilfred Owen
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).
