O you wind rose of torment!
Torn by primeval storms
In ever changing directions of the tempests;
Yet your south is loneliness,
Where you stand is the navel of pain.
Your eyes are sunk deep into your skull
Like cave-dwelling doves in the night
Brought out blind by the huntsman,
Your voice is silenced
From asking too many whys,
To the worms and the fishes your voice has gone.
Job, you have wept through all the watches of the night
But some day the star sign of your blood will
Outshine all the rising suns.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Шекспир – Ты положи с моей любовью рядом – Сонет 117
- The Indian Upon God by William Butler Yeats
- The Mirror by Robert Creeley
- A Killing by Satish Verma
- The Evening Soup, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s poem: La Soupe du soir by T. Wignesan
- From Far, From Eve and Morning poem – A. E. Housman
- A Poet039s Privilege
- Ode To Sleep by Thomas Warton
- Николай Гумилев – Леонард
- Tube Station
- The Declaration of London by Rudyard Kipling
- Dusk In Autumn by Sara Teasdale
- Sweeney among the Nightingales by T. S. Eliot
- Nationality by Mary Gilmore
- Mummy, mummy who invented school? by Raj Arumugam
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
