This boat you see, friends, will tell you
that she was the fastest of craft,
not to be challenged for speed
by any vessel afloat, whether
driven by sail or the labour of oars.
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Friday, 31 August 2012
Thursday, 30 August 2012
Just Keep Quiet and Nobody Will Notice - Ogden Nash
There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges,
Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies.
Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies.
Wednesday, 29 August 2012
The Dream Called Life - Pedro Calderón de la Barca
A dream it was in which I found myself.
And you that hail me now, then hailed me king,
And you that hail me now, then hailed me king,
Tuesday, 28 August 2012
Prayer and Blessing - Anon
With wonder struck the hero views
The Lord of hosts in ashes smeared ;
He views the crescent in his locks,
And bows before the God revered !
The Lord of hosts in ashes smeared ;
He views the crescent in his locks,
And bows before the God revered !
Monday, 27 August 2012
By Moonlight - Nora May French
Is this the world I knew? Beneath the day
It glowed with golden heat, with vivid hues —
Mountains and sky that merged in melting blues
And hazy air that shimmered far away.
It glowed with golden heat, with vivid hues —
Mountains and sky that merged in melting blues
And hazy air that shimmered far away.
Sunday, 26 August 2012
Eternity - Robert Herrick
1
O Years! and Age! Farewell:
Behold I go,
Where I do know
Infinity to dwell.
O Years! and Age! Farewell:
Behold I go,
Where I do know
Infinity to dwell.
Saturday, 25 August 2012
Friday, 24 August 2012
Song of the Shirt - Thomas Hood
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the "Song of the Shirt."
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the "Song of the Shirt."
Thursday, 23 August 2012
Wrath set my hair bristling - Yueh Fei
By the railing I stand,
Showers have stopped,
I bristle with wrath, my hair uncaging.
Wednesday, 22 August 2012
To A Cat - Jorge Luis Borges
Mirrors are not more silent
nor the creeping dawn more secretive;
in the moonlight, you are that panther
we catch sight of from afar.
nor the creeping dawn more secretive;
in the moonlight, you are that panther
we catch sight of from afar.
Tuesday, 21 August 2012
Before the Rain - Madison Cawein
Before the rain, low in the obscure east,
Weak and morose the moon hung, sickly gray;
Around its disc the storm mists, cracked and creased,
Wove an enormous web, wherein it lay
Like some white spider hungry for its prey.
Weak and morose the moon hung, sickly gray;
Around its disc the storm mists, cracked and creased,
Wove an enormous web, wherein it lay
Like some white spider hungry for its prey.
Monday, 20 August 2012
The Little Box - Vasko Popa
The little box gets her first teeth
And her little length
Little width little emptiness
And all the rest she has
And her little length
Little width little emptiness
And all the rest she has
Sunday, 19 August 2012
Old Song Re-Sung - Katharine Tynan
I saw three ships a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea,
The first her masts were silver,
Her hull was ivory.
The snows came drifting softly,
And lined her white as wool;
Oh, Jesus, Son of Mary,
Thy Cradle beautiful!
A-sailing on the sea,
The first her masts were silver,
Her hull was ivory.
The snows came drifting softly,
And lined her white as wool;
Oh, Jesus, Son of Mary,
Thy Cradle beautiful!
Saturday, 18 August 2012
Friday, 17 August 2012
An Elegy On The Glory Of Her Sex, Mrs Mary Blaize - Oliver Goldsmith
Good people all, with one accord
Lament for Madam Blaize,
Who never wanted a good word,—
From those who spoke her praise.
Lament for Madam Blaize,
Who never wanted a good word,—
From those who spoke her praise.
Thursday, 16 August 2012
Under The Poplars - Cesar Vallejo
Like priestly imprisoned poets,
the poplars of blood have fallen asleep.
On the hills, the flocks of Bethlehem
chew arias of grass at sunset.
the poplars of blood have fallen asleep.
On the hills, the flocks of Bethlehem
chew arias of grass at sunset.
Wednesday, 15 August 2012
Tuesday, 14 August 2012
Don Quixote - Nazim Hikmet
The knight of immortal youth
at the age of fifty found his mind in his heart
and on July morning went out to capture
the right, the beautiful, the just.
at the age of fifty found his mind in his heart
and on July morning went out to capture
the right, the beautiful, the just.
Monday, 13 August 2012
Marriage -
Love springs as lightly from the human heart
As springs the lovely rose upon the brier,
Which turns the common hedge to floral fire,
As Love wings Time with rosy-feathered dart.
As springs the lovely rose upon the brier,
Which turns the common hedge to floral fire,
As Love wings Time with rosy-feathered dart.
Thursday, 9 August 2012
A Quarter Century Has Passed... - Georgy Ivanov
A quarter century has passed abroad
and hope has become a joke.
The radiant starscape above Nice
is permanently my native sky.
and hope has become a joke.
The radiant starscape above Nice
is permanently my native sky.
Wednesday, 8 August 2012
History of Love - Yi Byeong-Ryul
A road curves to the left; the wall beside it is deeply scored with numerous gashes.
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
The Song My Paddle Sings - E Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake)
West wind, blow from your prairie nest
Blow from the mountains, blow from the west,
The sail is idle, the sailor too;
Oh wind of the west, we wait for you.
Blow, blow!
I have wooed you so,
But never a favour you bestow.
You rock your cradle the hills between,
But scorn to notice my white lateen.
Blow from the mountains, blow from the west,
The sail is idle, the sailor too;
Oh wind of the west, we wait for you.
Blow, blow!
I have wooed you so,
But never a favour you bestow.
You rock your cradle the hills between,
But scorn to notice my white lateen.
Monday, 6 August 2012
Canadians - Will H. Ogilvie
With arrows on their quarters and with numbers on their hoofs,
With the trampling sound of twenty that re-echoes in the roofs,
With the trampling sound of twenty that re-echoes in the roofs,
Sunday, 5 August 2012
A Hymn to God the Father - Ben Jonson
Hear me, O God!
A broken heart
Is my best part.
Use still thy rod,
That I may prove
Therein thy Love.
A broken heart
Is my best part.
Use still thy rod,
That I may prove
Therein thy Love.
Saturday, 4 August 2012
Molly Odell on her Birthday - Jonathan Odell
Amidst the rage of civil strife,
The orphan's cries, the widow's tears,
This day my rising dawn of life
Has measured five revolving years.
The orphan's cries, the widow's tears,
This day my rising dawn of life
Has measured five revolving years.
Friday, 3 August 2012
Old Mates - David McKee Wright
I came up to-night to the station, the tramp had been longish and cold,
My swag ain't too heavy to carry, but then I begin to get old.
I came through this way to the diggings -- how long will that be ago now?
Thirty years! how the country has altered, and miles of it under the plough,
And Jack was my mate on the journey -- we both run away from the sea;
He's got on in the world and I haven't, and now he looks sideways on me.
My swag ain't too heavy to carry, but then I begin to get old.
I came through this way to the diggings -- how long will that be ago now?
Thirty years! how the country has altered, and miles of it under the plough,
And Jack was my mate on the journey -- we both run away from the sea;
He's got on in the world and I haven't, and now he looks sideways on me.
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Tea with Germans in 1931 - George Gömöri
— Today I was Thomas Mann's guest.
We had tea together. He has not changed at all,
he is still amiable, healthy, and not so rigid
as my fellow-writers, Móricz and Babits.
Wednesday, 1 August 2012
Celebrate - Anna Akhmatova
Celebrate our anniversary – can’t you see
tonight the snowy night of our first winter
comes back again in every road and tree—
that winter night of diamantine splendour.
tonight the snowy night of our first winter
comes back again in every road and tree—
that winter night of diamantine splendour.