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:
- Come up from the Fields, Father. by Walt Whitman
- Not Fair
- Pegasus at Wanlockhead by Robert Burns
- Lines on Curll poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- The Wine by Sara Teasdale
- Владимир Маяковский – Сказка о Пете, толстом ребенке, и о Симе, который тонкий
- Огюст Барбье – Джульетта милая
- Николай Заболоцкий – Голубиная книга
- Summer We Called Home by Vinita Agrawal
- Вера Полозкова – Францу Кафке
- A PARANAETICALL, OR ADVISIVE VERSETO HIS FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS by Robert Herrick
- Ocean of Forms by Rabindranath Tagore
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Могила
- “By Moscow Self-Devoted To A Blaze” by William Wordsworth
- Another Weeping Woman by Wallace Stevens
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
- Владимир Высоцкий – Песенка про мангустов
- Владимир Высоцкий – Песенка о слухах
- Владимир Высоцкий – Песенка ни про что, или Что случилось в Африке
- Владимир Высоцкий – Переворот в мозгах из края в край
- Владимир Высоцкий – Перед выездом в загранку заполняешь кучу бланков
- Владимир Высоцкий – Пародия на плохой детектив
- Владимир Высоцкий – Парня спасём, парня в детдом
- Владимир Высоцкий – Памятник
- Владимир Высоцкий – Палач
- Владимир Высоцкий – Охота на кабанов
- Владимир Высоцкий – Ох, где был я вчера
- Владимир Высоцкий – Отпустите мне грехи
- Владимир Высоцкий – От скучных шабашей смертельно уставши
- Владимир Высоцкий – Оплавляются свечи на старинный паркет
- Владимир Высоцкий – Она была в Париже
- Владимир Высоцкий – Он не вернулся из боя
- Владимир Высоцкий – Оловянные солдатики
- Владимир Высоцкий – Однако, втягивать живот
- Владимир Высоцкий – Один смотрел, другой орал
- Владимир Высоцкий – Очи чёрные: Часть I
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
