A poem by Aldous Huxley (1894 – 1963)
I have run where festival was loud
With drum and brass among the crowd
Of panic revellers, whose cries
Affront the quiet of the skies;
Whose dancing lights contract the deep
Infinity of night and sleep
To a narrow turmoil of troubled fire.
And I have found my heart’s desire
In beechen caverns that autumn fills
With the blue shadowiness of distant hills;
Whose luminous grey pillars bear
The stooping sky: calm is the air,
Nor any sound is heard to mar
That crystal silence–as from far,
Far off a man may see
The busy world all utterly
Hushed as an old memorial scene.
Long evenings I have sat and been
Strangely content, while in my hands
I held a wealth of coloured strands,
Shimmering plaits of silk and skeins
Of soft bright wool. Each colour drains
New life at the lamp’s round pool of gold;
Each sinks again when I withhold
The quickening radiance, to a wan
And shadowy oblivion
Of what it was. And in my mind
Beauty or sudden love has shined
And wakened colour in what was dead
And turned to gold the sullen lead
Of mean desires and everyday’s
Poor thoughts and customary ways.
Sometimes in lands where mountains throw
Their silent spell on all below,
Drawing a magic circle wide
About their feet on every side,
Robbed of all speech and thought and act,
I have seen God in the cataract.
In falling water and in flame,
Never at rest, yet still the same,
God shows himself. And I have known
The swift fire frozen into stone,
And water frozen changelessly
Into the death of gems. And I
Long sitting by the thunderous mill
Have seen the headlong wheel made still,
And in the silence that ensued
Have known the endless solitude
Of being dead and utterly nought.
Inhabitant of mine own thought,
I look abroad, and all I see
Is my creation, made for me:
Along my thread of life are pearled
The moments that make up the world.
A few random poems:
- The Man Into Whose Yard You Should Not Hit Your Ball by Thomas Lux
- Владимир Высоцкий – Здесь сидел ты, Валет
- Images by Mary Etta Metcalf
- The Wolf039s Postcript To 039little Red Riding Hood039
- Николай Карамзин – К милости
- All The Dead Dears by Sylvia Plath
- The Dug-Out by Siegfried Sassoon
- A Pact poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Tell Me
- Ольга Берггольц – Февральский дневник
- The Buried Train by Robert Bly
- Ballade Of Autumn poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Владимир Маяковский – Товарищи, близятся ужасы зимы… (РОСТА №270)
- This by Ralph Angel
- Sonnet Xv
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
- Аля Кудряшева – Если ты, к примеру, кролик с шелковистыми ушами
- Аля Кудряшева – Двадцать перышек за плечами
- Аля Кудряшева – Дождь напевает, искрясь по зарослям
- Алишер Навои – Уже белеет голова
- Алишер Навои – Украсишь ты свой наряд красным
- Алишер Навои – У пери — точка вместо уст
- Алишер Навои – То не заросли тюльпанов
- Алишер Навои – Сверкнула в темноте ночной краса
- Алишер Навои – Стихотворные жемчужины
- Алишер Навои – Соловей, лишенный розы, умолкает, не поет
- Алишер Навои – Словно зеркало, сияет лик твой
- Алишер Навои – Скиталец горький, страсть таю я
- Алишер Навои – Сердце взял мое сын мага
- Алишер Навои – Сердце кровью из ран обагрить я сумел
- Алишер Навои – Пустословя на минбаре
- Алишер Навои – Птицу-сердце полонила нежных локонов силком
- Алишер Навои – Поучительные заветы старости
- Алишер Навои – Осрамился я
- Алишер Навои – Он любить мне запрещает
- Алишер Навои – О таинствах любви
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
Aldous Leonard Huxley (1894 – 1963) was an English writer and philosopher. He wrote nearly fifty books—both novels and non-fiction works—as well as wide-ranging essays, narratives, and poems.