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:
- For what’s worth breathing by Rixa White
- Again And Again, However We Know The Landscape Of Love by Rainer Maria Rilke
- On The Death Of The Vice-Chancellor, A Physician (Translated From Milton) by William Cowper
- Алексей Ржевский – Долго ль прельщаться
- Олег Бундур – Счастливый
- Федор Сологуб – Слышу голос милой
- Ольга Берггольц – О да, простые, бедные слова
- Song II: Have No Thought for Tomorrow by William Morris
- Elijah by Peter Bardsley
- Такахама Кёси – Драчливые петухи
- Валерий Брюсов – Из латинской антологии (Нежный стихов аромат услаждает безделие девы)
- The River by Mark Olynyk
- An Invitation
- Олег Григорьев – Много нас по подобию божию
- Михаил Лермонтов – Бартеневой
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
- Федор Сологуб – В лес пришла пастушка
- Федор Сологуб – В камине пылания много
- Федор Сологуб – В иных веках, в иной отчизне
- Федор Сологуб – В этот час
- Федор Сологуб – В его саду растет рябина
- Федор Сологуб – Терцинами писать как будто очень трудно
- Федор Сологуб – Тепло мне потому, что мой уютный дом
- Федор Сологуб – Тень решётки прочной
- Федор Сологуб – Там, внизу, костры горели
- Федор Сологуб – Так же внятен мне, как прежде
- Федор Сологуб – Так нежен был внезапный поцелуй
- Федор Сологуб – Святых имен твоих не знаю
- Федор Сологуб – Своеволием рока
- Федор Сологуб – Светлый пир
- Федор Сологуб – Светлый дом мой всё выше
- Федор Сологуб – Сверкайте, миги строгих дней
- Федор Сологуб – Солнце, которому больно
- Федор Сологуб – Собака седого короля
- Федор Сологуб – Снова саваны надели
- Федор Сологуб – Снежное поле бесшумно
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
