Oh bird, do you fly,
With the roaring winds, do you soar.
Do you not serve the people,
And do you not work harder for the people?
A Collection of Poems
A diverse collection of poems I like.
Saturday, 26 September 2026
Oh bird, do you fly? - Hadraawi
Friday, 25 September 2026
Two Haiku about insects and the sky - Masaoka Shiki
Locusts fly low
over rice paddies
in the dim sun ray
over rice paddies
in the dim sun ray
Thursday, 24 September 2026
A Ship Comes In - Jónas Hallgrímsson
Can the bard descry a schooner
scudding landward, sails expanded?
scudding landward, sails expanded?
Wednesday, 23 September 2026
Disastrous word - Verushcka Garises
It all starts as little as a drop of water
Just to turn into an ocean of crushing waves
Just to turn into an ocean of crushing waves
Tuesday, 22 September 2026
Kyjov - Petr Bezruč
Ho, ye slender youths in your top-boots clad,
Ho, maidens in crimson array—
In Kyjov a joyful life ye have had,
In Kyjov 'twill ever be gay.
Ho, maidens in crimson array—
In Kyjov a joyful life ye have had,
In Kyjov 'twill ever be gay.
Monday, 21 September 2026
Sub umbra - Leo Bradley
Shades and shadows manifold
Grace our tropic land;
Silhouettes of seagull wings,
And palm shades on the sand;
Of countless coral windy cayes,
And dipping sail-boats grand.
Grace our tropic land;
Silhouettes of seagull wings,
And palm shades on the sand;
Of countless coral windy cayes,
And dipping sail-boats grand.
Sunday, 20 September 2026
God weeps - Shirley Erena Murray
God weeps
at love withheld,
at strength misused,
at children's innocence abused,
and till we change the way we love,
God weeps.
at love withheld,
at strength misused,
at children's innocence abused,
and till we change the way we love,
God weeps.
Saturday, 19 September 2026
Promise - Meira Delmar
Some blue and flowered morning
we shall sweetly go, hand in hand
to listen to the stories the brook whispers
before the amazement of the bare stones...
we shall sweetly go, hand in hand
to listen to the stories the brook whispers
before the amazement of the bare stones...
Friday, 18 September 2026
All my bones - Michaela Lamdan
All my bones will say woman.
All my bones say woman.
Woman.
Why do you curve.
Why do you adapt.
Why do you embody pity.
Why.
All my bones say woman.
Woman.
Why do you curve.
Why do you adapt.
Why do you embody pity.
Why.
Thursday, 17 September 2026
San Juan of the Tourists - Marigloria Palma
I used to run around with my seven Sundays folded
under my arm and seven pigeons crowning my brow.
I would wander the streets free and caught
in the sun’s crosshairs. The city is a herd
of feelings jammed in the traffic
under my arm and seven pigeons crowning my brow.
I would wander the streets free and caught
in the sun’s crosshairs. The city is a herd
of feelings jammed in the traffic
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