A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
I.
Silence! coeval with Eternity;
Thou wert, ere Nature’s-self began to be,
‘Twas one vast Nothing, all, and all slept fast in thee.
II.
Thine was the sway, ere heav’n was form’d, or earth,
Ere fruitful Thought conceiv’d creation’s birth,
Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant forth.
III.
Then various elements, against thee join’d,
In one more various animal combin’d,
And fam’d the clam’rous race of busy Human-kind.
IV.
The tongue mov’d gently first, and speech was low,
‘Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show,
And wicked Wit arose, thy most abusive foe.
V.
But rebel Wit deserts thee oft’ in vain;
Lost in the maze of words he turns again,
And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign.
VI.
Afflicted Sense thou kindly dost set free,
Oppress’d with argumental tyranny,
And routed Reason finds a safe retreat in thee.
VII.
With thee in private modest Dulness lies,
And in thy bosom lurks in Thought’s disguise;
Thou varnisher of Fools, and cheat of all the Wise!
VIII.
Yet thy indulgence is by both confest;
Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast,
And ’tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for rest.
IX.
Silence the knave’s repute, the whore’s good name,
The only honour of the wishing dame;
Thy very want of tongue makes thee a kind of Fame.
X.
But could’st thou seize some tongues that now are free,
How Church and State should be oblig’d to thee!
At Senate, and at Bar, how welcome would’st thou be!
XI.
Yet speech ev’n there, submissively withdraws,
From rights of subjects, and the poor man’s cause:
Then pompous Silence reigns, and stills the noisy Laws.
XII.
Past services of friends, good deeds of foes,
What Fav’rites gain, and what the Nation owes,
Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.
XIII.
The country wit, religion of the town,
The courtier’s learning, policy o’ th’ gown,
Are best by thee express’d; and shine in thee alone.
XIV.
The parson’s cant, the lawyer’s sophistry,
Lord’s quibble, critic’s jest; all end in thee,
All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.
A few random poems:
- An Epitaph 3 (From The Greek) by William Cowper
- Николай Гумилев – Капитаны
- The way aboard by Preeth Nambiar
- The Song of the Cheerful (but slightly sarcastic) Jesus by Oliver St. John Gogarty
- The Land of the Exile by Rabindranath Tagore
- Statistic by Shivam Pandya
- Rains Have Come poem – Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- Наум Коржавин – От дурачеств, от ума ли
- In Poetry by Rifat Ilgaz
- To a Sky-Lark by William Wordsworth
- Sonnet 134: So, now I have confessed that he is thine by William Shakespeare
- Robert Burns: Why, Why Tell The Lover: Fragment,
- Orlando Furioso Canto 6 by Ludovico Ariosto
- Old And New by Rabindranath Tagore
- cascades of emptiness by Steve Troyanovich
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: The Winter It Is Past:
- Robert Burns: To Daunton Me:
- Robert Burns: Talk Of Him That’s Far Awa:
- Robert Burns: The Lad They Ca’Jumpin John:
- Robert Burns: Duncan Davison :
- Robert Burns: Hey, The Dusty Miller:
- Robert Burns: How Long And Dreary Is The Night :
- Robert Burns: Up In The Morning Early:
- Robert Burns: Raving Winds Around Her Blowing: I composed these verses on Miss Isabella M’Leod of Raza, alluding to her feelings on the death of her sister, and the still more melancholy death of her sister’s husband, the late Earl of Loudoun, who shot himself out of sheer heart-break at some mortifications he suffered, owing to the deranged state of his finances.-R.B., 1971.
- Robert Burns: My Hoggie:
- Robert Burns: Stay My Charmer:
- Robert Burns: M’Pherson’s Farewell:
- Robert Burns: To The Weavers Gin Ye Go:
- Robert Burns: I’m O’er Young To Marry Yet:
- Robert Burns: Clarinda, Mistress Of My Soul:
- Robert Burns: Go On, Sweet Bird, And Sooth My Care:
- Robert Burns: Love In The Guise Of Friendship:
- Robert Burns: Sylvander To Clarinda: Extempore Reply to Verses addressed to the Author by a Lady, under the signature of “Clarinda” and entitled, On Burns saying he ‘had nothing else to do.’
- Robert Burns: On The Death Of Robert Dundas, Esq., Of Arniston,: Late Lord President of the Court of Session.
- Robert Burns: Birthday Ode For 31st December, 1787:
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
