Hot sun, cool fire, tempered with sweet air,
Black shade, fair nurse, shadow my white hair.
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Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Monday, 28 November 2011
Song of the Little Cripple at the Street Corner - Rainer Maria Rilke
Read the translator's notes
Maybe my soul’s all right.
But my body’s all wrong,
All bent and twisted,
All this that hurts me so.
Maybe my soul’s all right.
But my body’s all wrong,
All bent and twisted,
All this that hurts me so.
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Saturday, 26 November 2011
The Ballad of Sally in our Alley - Henry Carey
Of all the Girls that are so smart
There’s none like pretty SALLY,
She is the Darling of my Heart,
And she lives in our Alley.
There is no Lady in the Land
Is half so sweet as SALLY,
She is the Darling of my Heart,
And she lives in our Alley.
There’s none like pretty SALLY,
She is the Darling of my Heart,
And she lives in our Alley.
There is no Lady in the Land
Is half so sweet as SALLY,
She is the Darling of my Heart,
And she lives in our Alley.
Friday, 25 November 2011
Take, Oh, Take Those Lips Away - John Fletcher
Take, oh, take those lips away
That so sweetly were forsworn
That so sweetly were forsworn
Thursday, 24 November 2011
The Arrow - William Butler Yeats
I thought of your beauty, and this arrow,
Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow.
Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow.
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
Agamede’s Song - Arthur Upson
Grow, grow, thou little tree,
His body at the roots of thee;
Since last year’s loveliness in death
The living beauty nourisheth.
His body at the roots of thee;
Since last year’s loveliness in death
The living beauty nourisheth.
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
People are Legends - Kevin Gilbert
Kill the legend
Butcher it
With your acute cyncicisms
Your paternal superfluities
With your unwise wisdom
Butcher it
With your acute cyncicisms
Your paternal superfluities
With your unwise wisdom
Monday, 21 November 2011
Sunday, 20 November 2011
Saturday, 19 November 2011
The Green Isle of Lovers - Robert Charles Sands
They say that, afar in the land of the west,
Where the bright golden sun sinks in glory to rest,
Mid ferns where the hunter ne’er ventured to tread,
A fair lake unruffled and sparkling is spread;
Where, lost in his course, the rapt Indian discovers,
In distance seen dimly, the green Isle of Lovers.
Where the bright golden sun sinks in glory to rest,
Mid ferns where the hunter ne’er ventured to tread,
A fair lake unruffled and sparkling is spread;
Where, lost in his course, the rapt Indian discovers,
In distance seen dimly, the green Isle of Lovers.
Friday, 18 November 2011
Spring - Thomas Nashe
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing—
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing—
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Thursday, 17 November 2011
The Ordinary Man - Robert Service
If you and I should chance to meet,
I guess you wouldn't care;
I'm sure you'd pass me in the street
As if I wasn't there;
You'd never look me in the face,
My modest mug to scan,
Because I'm just a commonplace
And Ordinary Man.
I guess you wouldn't care;
I'm sure you'd pass me in the street
As if I wasn't there;
You'd never look me in the face,
My modest mug to scan,
Because I'm just a commonplace
And Ordinary Man.
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
Corrymeela - Moira O’Neill
Over here in England I’m helpin’ wi’ the hay,
And I wisht I was in Ireland the livelong day;
Weary on the English hay, an’ sorra take the wheat!
Och! Corrymeela, an’ the blue sky over it.
And I wisht I was in Ireland the livelong day;
Weary on the English hay, an’ sorra take the wheat!
Och! Corrymeela, an’ the blue sky over it.
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
Eileen Aroon - Gerald Griffin
When, like the early rose,
Eileen aroon!
Beauty in childhood blows,
Eileen aroon!
When, like a diadem,
Buds blush around the stem,
Which is the fairest gem?
Eileen aroon!
Eileen aroon!
Beauty in childhood blows,
Eileen aroon!
When, like a diadem,
Buds blush around the stem,
Which is the fairest gem?
Eileen aroon!
Monday, 14 November 2011
Sunday, 13 November 2011
Presence - T.E. Brown
Expecting him, my door was open wide:
Then I looked round
If any lack of service might be found,
And saw him at my side:
How entered, by what secret stair,
I know not, knowing only he was there.
T.E. Brown (1830 - 1897) Isle of Man, England
Then I looked round
If any lack of service might be found,
And saw him at my side:
How entered, by what secret stair,
I know not, knowing only he was there.
T.E. Brown (1830 - 1897) Isle of Man, England
Friday, 11 November 2011
How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43) - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
Manchester TRAFFIC - Mark Stubbs
There once was a project at Manchester Met
To transform curriculum was the goal that we set
Rewriting every module was the name of the game
Enhancing assessment for learning, our overall aim
To transform curriculum was the goal that we set
Rewriting every module was the name of the game
Enhancing assessment for learning, our overall aim
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
Monday, 7 November 2011
Sunday, 6 November 2011
Words on a train - Bruce Levitan
On the commuter train home
listening to two young people
slagging off their friends:
They talked in consonant free jargon,
not an H or a T to be heard --
but the invective was clear and rough.
Would it be the same in Rome?
Do youths descend from Dante's steeple
to incoherently speak? The same trends
across our world -- really so far gone
that we might as well be a herd
that speaks only in acidic guff?
Would Nietzsche include in his tome
of humanity's idiocy and evil,
thoughts on how to cleanse
or how to kill the dragon?
How far must the spoken word
be destroyed before we've had enough?
Bruce Levitan (born 1955) England (born: Kenya)
listening to two young people
slagging off their friends:
They talked in consonant free jargon,
not an H or a T to be heard --
but the invective was clear and rough.
Would it be the same in Rome?
Do youths descend from Dante's steeple
to incoherently speak? The same trends
across our world -- really so far gone
that we might as well be a herd
that speaks only in acidic guff?
Would Nietzsche include in his tome
of humanity's idiocy and evil,
thoughts on how to cleanse
or how to kill the dragon?
How far must the spoken word
be destroyed before we've had enough?
Bruce Levitan (born 1955) England (born: Kenya)
Saturday, 5 November 2011
We Waves - August Strindberg
We, we waves,
That are rocking the winds
To rest—
Green cradles, we waves!
That are rocking the winds
To rest—
Green cradles, we waves!
Friday, 4 November 2011
I Do Not Know - Chihwan Yu
Whose footprint is that paulonia leaf
That drops softly, rousing ripples in the windless air?
whose face is that blue sky
Glimpsed between the threatening, dark clouds
Blown by the west wind after a long rain?
That drops softly, rousing ripples in the windless air?
whose face is that blue sky
Glimpsed between the threatening, dark clouds
Blown by the west wind after a long rain?
Thursday, 3 November 2011
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
The Enchantment - Thomas Otway
I did but look and love awhile,
’Twas but for one half-hour;
Then to resist I had no will,
And now I have no power.
’Twas but for one half-hour;
Then to resist I had no will,
And now I have no power.