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:
- Alone in the Wind, on the Prairie by Vachel Lindsay
- all-days-seem-same.html
- Do You Remember Once
- Владимир Луговской – Мальчики играют на горе
- Robert Burns: Raging Fortune:
- Doomes-Day: The Fifth Houre by William Alexander
- The Poetic Principle by Mark Olynyk
- Robert Burns: Halloween: The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.-R.B.
- You must once
- TIRELESSLY by Satish Verma
- AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD by Robert Herrick
- Robert Burns: A Red, Red Rose: [Hear Red, Red Rose]
- Women’s Harvest Song poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Николай Карамзин – К Дмитриеву (Многие барды, лиру настроив)
- So Far and So Far, and on Toward the End. by Walt Whitman
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
- Robert Burns: Scroggam, My Dearie:
- Robert Burns: When She Cam’ Ben She Bobbed :
- Robert Burns: The Weary Pund O’ Tow:
- Robert Burns: Lines On Fergusson, The Poet :
- Robert Burns: I do Confess Thou Art Sae Fair: Alteration of an Old Poem.
- Robert Burns: My Native Land Sae Far Awa:
- Robert Burns: Thou Gloomy December :
- Robert Burns: Behold The Hour, The Boat, Arrive:
- Robert Burns: Ae Fond Kiss, And Then We Sever:
- Robert Burns: O May, Thy Morn:
- Robert Burns: A Grace After Dinner, Extempore:
- Robert Burns: A Grace Before Dinner, Extempore:
- Robert Burns: The Keekin’-Glass:
- Robert Burns: Divine Service In The Kirk Of Lamington:
- Robert Burns: The Toadeater:
- Robert Burns: Poem On Sensibility:
- Robert Burns: The Song Of Death: Scene-A Field of Battle. Time of the day-evening. The wounded and dying of the victorious army are supposed to join in the following song.
- Robert Burns: Second Epistle To Robert Graham, ESQ., Of Fintry:
- Robert Burns: Epistle To John Maxwell, ESQ., Of Terraughty : On His Birthday.
- Robert Burns: O Kenmure’s On And Awa, Willie:
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.