A poem by Adrienne Cecile Rich (1929 – 2012)
I know you are reading this poem
late, before leaving your office
of the one intense yellow lamp-spot and the darkening window
in the lassitude of a building faded to quiet
long after rush-hour. I know you are reading this poem
standing up in a bookstore far from the ocean
on a grey day of early spring, faint flakes driven
across the plains’ enormous spaces around you.
I know you are reading this poem
in a room where too much has happened for you to bear
where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed
and the open valise speaks of flight
but you cannot leave yet. I know you are reading this poem
as the underground train loses momentum and before running
up the stairs
toward a new kind of love
your life has never allowed.
I know you are reading this poem by the light
of the television screen where soundless images jerk and slide
while you wait for the newscast from the intifada.
I know you are reading this poem in a waiting-room
of eyes met and unmeeting, of identity with strangers.
I know you are reading this poem by fluorescent light
in the boredom and fatigue of the young who are counted out,
count themselves out, at too early an age. I know
you are reading this poem through your failing sight, the thick
lens enlarging these letters beyond all meaning yet you read on
because even the alphabet is precious.
I know you are reading this poem as you pace beside the stove
warming milk, a crying child on your shoulder, a book in your
hand
because life is short and you too are thirsty.
I know you are reading this poem which is not in your language
guessing at some words while others keep you reading
and I want to know which words they are.
I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn
between bitterness and hope
turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse.
I know you are reading this poem because there is nothing else
left to read
there where you have landed, stripped as you are.
A few random poems:
- Lying on a Slab by Satish Verma
- Robert Burns: A Tippling Ballad: On the Duke of Brunswick’s Breaking up his Camp, and the defeat of the Austrians, by Dumourier, November 1792.
- Алексей Плещеев – Знакомые звуки, чудесные звуки
- Li Po drowns by Raj Arumugam
- To the Same poem – John Milton poems
- The Rock Cries Out to Us Today by Maya Angelou
- Epigram on an Innkeeper (“The Marquis”) by Robert Burns
- Владимир Маяковский – Чехарда в палате… (РОСТА №881)
- Владимир Орлов – Кому что снится?
- Meeting with Te Rauparaha by Michael O’Leary
- Алексей Плещеев – Тобой лишь ясны дни мои
- Владимир Британишский – Двуединство души
- Lepracaun or Fairy Shoemaker, The by William Allingham
- Song—Behold, my love, how green the groves by Robert Burns
- Plague Victims Catapulted Over Walls Into Besieged City by Thomas Lux
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Is There A Power That Can Sustain And Cheer by William Wordsworth
- Invocation To The Earth, February 1816 by William Wordsworth
- Inside of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge by William Wordsworth
- Inscriptions Written with a Slate Pencil upon a Stone by William Wordsworth
- Inscriptions In The Ground Of Coleorton, The Seat Of Sir George Beaumont, Bart., Leicestershire by William Wordsworth
- Inscriptions For A Seat In The Groves Of Coleorton by William Wordsworth
- Influence of Natural Objects by William Wordsworth
- Indignation Of A High-Minded Spaniard by William Wordsworth
- Incident Characteristic Of A Favorite Dog by William Wordsworth
- In The Pass Of Killicranky by William Wordsworth
- In Due Observance Of An Ancient Rite by William Wordsworth
- I Travelled among Unknown Men by William Wordsworth
- I Know an Aged Man Constrained to Dwell by William Wordsworth
- I Grieved For Buonaparte by William Wordsworth
- How Sweet It Is, When Mother Fancy Rocks by William Wordsworth
- Hoffer by William Wordsworth
- Hint From The Mountains For Certain Political Pretenders by William Wordsworth
- Here Pause: The Poet Claims At Least This Praise by William Wordsworth
- Her Eyes Are Wild by William Wordsworth
- Hart-Leap Well by William Wordsworth
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Adrienne Cecile Rich (1929 – 2012) was an American poet, essayist, and feminist.