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
- The Stwonèn Pworch by William Barnes
- Perseus by Robert Hayden
- Sun and Fun poem – John Betjeman poems
- Loneliness by Sappho
- Andromeda poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Николай Языков – Услад
- Владимир Маяковский – Рабочий! (РОСТА №735)
- For what’s worth breathing by Rixa White
- The Meehoo with an Exactlywatt by Shel Silverstein
- Олег Бундур – Вместо нас
- Genius
- Владимир Высоцкий – Свет потушите, вырубите звук
- The Rose Of The World by William Butler Yeats
- Robert Burns: Verses Written With A Pencil Over the Chimney-piece in the Parlour of the Inn at Kenmore, Taymouth.:
- O’er The Wide Earth, On Mountain And On Plain by William Wordsworth
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).
