A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
I.
In ev’ry Town, where Thamis rolls his Tyde,
A narrow pass there is, with Houses low;
Where ever and anon, the Stream is ey’d,
And many a Boat soft sliding to and fro.
There oft are heard the notes of Infant Woe,
The short thick Sob, loud Scream, and shriller Squall:
How can ye, Mothers, vex your Children so?
Some play, some eat, some cack against the wall,
And as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call.
II.
And on the broken pavement, here and there,
Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco shop is near,
And hens, and dogs, and hogs are feeding by;
And here a sailor’s jacket hangs to dry.
At ev’ry door are sun-burnt matrons seen,
Mending old nets to catch the scaly fry;
Now singing shrill, and scolding eft between;
Scolds answer foul-mouth’d scolds; bad neighbourhood I ween.
III.
The snappish cur, (the passengers’ annoy)
Close at my heel with yelping treble flies;
The whimp’ring girl, and hoarser-screaming boy,
Join to the yelping treble shrilling cries;
The scolding Quean to louder notes doth rise,
And her full pipes those shrilling cries confound;
To her full pipes the grunting hog replies;
The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round,
And curs, girls, boys, and scolds, in the deep bass are drown’d.
IV.
Hard by a Sty, beneath a roof of thatch,
Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days
Baskets of fish at Billingsgate did watch,
Cod, whiting, oyster, mackrel, sprat, or plaice:
There learn’d she speech from tongues that never cease.
Slander beside her, like a Mag-pie, chatters,
With Envy, (spitting Cat) dread foe to peace;
Like a curs’d Cur, Malice before her clatters,
And vexing ev’ry wight, tears clothes and all to tatters.
V.
Her dugs were mark’d by ev’ry Collier’s hand,
Her mouth was black as bull-dogs at the stall:
She scratch’d, bit, and spar’d ne lace ne band,
And bitch and rogue her answer was to all;
Nay, e’en the parts of shame by name would call:
Yea, when she passed by or lane or nook,
Would greet the man who turn’d him to the Wall,
And by his hand obscene the porter took,
Nor ever did askance like modest Virgin look.
VI.
Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town,
Woolwich and Wapping smelling strong of pitch;
Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown,
And Twick’nam such, which fairer scenes enrich,
Grots, statues, urns, and Johnston’s Dog and Bitch,
Ne village is without, on either side,
All up the silver Thames, or all adown;
Ne Richmond’s self, from whose tall front are ey’d
Vales, spires, meandring streams, and Windsor’s tow’ry pride.
A few random poems:
- Master Valluvan, the long-misunderstood Tamil Mentor by T. Wignesan
- Юлия Друнина – А всё равно
- Олег Григорьев – Однажды Сережа и Оля
- I Once Knew A Woman by Shel Silverstein
- To Sir George Howland Beaumont, Bart From the South-West Coast Or Cumberland 1811 by William Wordsworth
- София Парнок – Екатерине Гельцер
- Hymn by Sidney Godolphin
- Иван Барков – Улика подьячего
- Юргис Балтрушайтис – На поле Ватерло
- Николай Языков – Песни (Мы любим шумные пиры)
- In The Forum poem – Alfred Austin
- Ritual by Tala Bar
- Irony poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Ольга Седакова – Ветер прощанья
- Grass by Russell Edson
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: Written By Somebody On The Window Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.: Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.
- Robert Burns: To Miss Ferrier: Enclosing the Elegy on Sir J. H. Blair.
- Robert Burns: Impromptu On Carron Iron Works:
- Robert Burns: Elegy On The Death Of Sir James Hunter Blair:
- Robert Burns: On The Death Of John M’Leod, Esq,: Brother to a young Lady, a particular friend of the Author’s.
- Robert Burns: Epigram To Miss Jean Scott:
- Robert Burns: The Bard At Inverary:
- Robert Burns: Elegy On “Stella”: The following poem is the work of some hapless son of the Muses who deserved a better fate. There is a great deal of “The voice of Cona” in his solitary, mournful notes; and had the sentiments been clothed in Shenstone’s language, they would have been no discredit even to that elegant poet.-R.B.
- Robert Burns: Burlesque Lament For The Absence Of William Creech, Publisher:
- Robert Burns: Epigram To Miss Ainslie In Church: Who was looking up the text during sermon.
- Robert Burns: Address To Wm. Tytler, Esq., Of Woodhouselee: With an Impression of the Author’s Portrait.
- Robert Burns: Hey, Ca’ Thro’ – Boat song:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For Mr. William Michie: Schoolmaster of Cleish Parish, Fifeshire.
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For William Nicol, Of The High School, Edinburgh:
- Robert Burns: Lines Written Under The Picture Of The Celebrated Miss Burns:
- Robert Burns: A Bottle And Friend:
- Robert Burns: On Elphinstone’s Translation Of Martial’s Epigrams:
- Robert Burns: The Book-Worms:
- Robert Burns: Epigram Addressed To An Artist:
- Robert Burns: Epigram At Roslin Inn:
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
