Ballade Of Cleopatra’s Needle poem – Andrew Lang poems
Ye giant shades of RA and TUM, Ye ghosts of gods Egyptian, If murmurs of our planet come To exiles in the precincts wan Where, fetish or Olympian, To help or harm no more ye list, Look down, if look ye may, and scan This monument in London mist! Behold, the hieroglyphs are […]
Ballade Of Blind Love poem – Andrew Lang poems
Who have loved and ceased to love, forget That ever they loved in their lives, they say; Only remember the fever and fret, And the pain of Love, that was all his pay; All the delight of him passes away From hearts that hoped, and from lips that met - Too late did […]
Ballade Of Autumn poem – Andrew Lang poems
We built a castle in the air, In summer weather, you and I, The wind and sun were in your hair, - Gold hair against a sapphire sky: When Autumn came, with leaves that fly Before the storm, across the plain, You fled from me, with scarce a sigh - My Love returns […]
Ballade Of Aucassin poem – Andrew Lang poems
Where smooth the southern waters run By rustling leagues of poplars grey, Beneath a veiled soft southern sun, We wandered out of yesterday, Went maying through that ancient May Whose fallen flowers are fragrant yet, And loitered by the fountain spray With Aucassin and Nicolette. The grass-grown paths are trod of none Where […]
Ballade Of Amoureuse poem – Andrew Lang poems
Not Jason nor Medea wise, I crave to see, nor win much lore, Nor list to Orpheus’ minstrelsies; Nor Her’cles would I see, that o’er The wide world roamed from shore to shore; Nor, by St. James, Penelope, - Nor pure Lucrece, such wrong that bore: To see my Love suffices me! Virgil […]
Ballade Of His Books poem – Andrew Lang poems
Here stand my books, line upon line They reach the roof, and row by row, They speak of faded tastes of mine, And things I did, but do not, know: Old school books, useless long ago, Old Logics, where the spirit, railed in, Could scarcely answer “yes” or “no” - The many things […]
Ballade Of The Dream poem – Andrew Lang poems
Swift as sound of music fled When no more the organ sighs, Sped as all old days are sped, So your lips, love, and your eyes, So your gentle-voiced replies Mine one hour in sleep that seem, Rise and flit when slumber flies, Following darkness like a dream! Like the scent from roses […]
Ballade Of Dead Ladies poem – Andrew Lang poems
Nay, tell me now in what strange air The Roman Flora dwells to-day. Where Archippiada hides, and where Beautiful Thais has passed away? Whence answers Echo, afield, astray, By mere or stream,–around, below? Lovelier she than a woman of clay; Nay, but where is the last year’s snow? Where is wise Heloise, that […]
Ballade Of The Dead Cities poem – Andrew Lang poems
The dust of Carthage and the dust Of Babel on the desert wold, The loves of Corinth, and the lust, Orchomenos increased with gold; The town of Jason, over-bold, And Cherson, smitten in her prime - What are they but a dream half-told? Where are the cities of old time? In towns that […]
Ballade Of Cleopatra’s Needle poem – Andrew Lang poems
Ye giant shades of RA and TUM, Ye ghosts of gods Egyptian, If murmurs of our planet come To exiles in the precincts wan Where, fetish or Olympian, To help or harm no more ye list, Look down, if look ye may, and scan This monument in London mist! Behold, the hieroglyphs are […]
Ballade Of The Bookworm poem – Andrew Lang poems
Far in the Past I peer, and see A Child upon the Nursery floor, A Child with books upon his knee, Who asks, like Oliver, for more! The number of his years is IV, And yet in Letters hath he skill, How deep he dives in Fairy-lore! The Books I loved, I love […]
Ballade Of Blind Love poem – Andrew Lang poems
Who have loved and ceased to love, forget That ever they loved in their lives, they say; Only remember the fever and fret, And the pain of Love, that was all his pay; All the delight of him passes away From hearts that hoped, and from lips that met - Too late did […]
Ballade Of Autumn poem – Andrew Lang poems
We built a castle in the air, In summer weather, you and I, The wind and sun were in your hair, - Gold hair against a sapphire sky: When Autumn came, with leaves that fly Before the storm, across the plain, You fled from me, with scarce a sigh - My Love returns […]
Ballade Of Aucassin poem – Andrew Lang poems
Where smooth the southern waters run By rustling leagues of poplars grey, Beneath a veiled soft southern sun, We wandered out of yesterday, Went maying through that ancient May Whose fallen flowers are fragrant yet, And loitered by the fountain spray With Aucassin and Nicolette. The grass-grown paths are trod of none Where […]
Ballade Against The Jesuits poem – Andrew Lang poems
Rome does right well to censure all the vain Talk of Jansenius, and of them who preach That earthly joys are damnable! ‘Tis plain We need not charge at Heaven as at a breach; No, amble on! We’ll gain it, one and all; The narrow path’s a dream fantastical, And Arnauld’s quite superfluously […]
Auld Maitland poem – Andrew Lang poems
There lived a king in southern land, King Edward hight his name; Unwordily he wore the crown, Till fifty years were gane. He had a sister’s son o’s ain, Was large of blood and bane; And afterward, when he came up, Young Edward hight his name. One day he came before the king, […]
Annan Water poem – Andrew Lang poems
“Annan water’s wading deep, And my love Annie’s wondrous bonny; And I am laith she suld weet her feet, Because I love her best of ony. “Gar saddle me the bonny black,– Gar saddle sune, and make him ready: For I will down the Gatehope-Slack, And all to see my bonny ladye.”– He […]
Alison Gross poem – Andrew Lang poems
O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tow’r, The ugliest witch in the north countrie, She trysted me ae day up till her bow’r, And mony fair speeches she made to me. She straik’d my head, and she kaim’d my hair, And she set me down saftly on her knee; Says–“If ye will […]
Aesop poem – Andrew Lang poems
HE sat among the woods; he heard The sylvan merriment; he saw The pranks of butterfly and bird, The humors of the ape, the daw. And in the lion or the frog,- In all the life of moor and fen,- In ass and peacock, stork and dog, He read similitudes of men. “Of […]
A Scot To Jeanne D’Arc poem – Andrew Lang poems
DARK Lily without blame, Not upon us the shame, Whose sires were to the Auld Alliance true; They, by the Maiden’s side, Victorious fought and died; One stood by thee that fiery torment through, Till the White Dove from thy pure lips had passed, And thou wert with thine own St. Catherine at […]
A Portrait Of 1783 poem – Andrew Lang poems
Your hair and chin are like the hair And chin Burne-Jones’s ladies wear; You were unfashionably fair In ’83; And sad you were when girls are gay, You read a book about Le vrai Merite de l’homme, alone in May. What CAN it be, Le vrai merite de l’homme? Not gold, Not titles […]
A Highly Valuable Chain Of Thoughts poem – Andrew Lang poems
Had cigarettes no ashes, And roses ne’er a thorn, No man would be a funker Of whin, or burn, or bunker. There were no need for mashies, The turf would ne’er be torn, Had cigarettes no ashes, And roses ne’er a thorn. Had cigarettes no ashes, And roses ne’er a thorn, The big […]
The Song poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
Sailor, my dear, my heaven-made spouse! There is one thing that I beg of you, man: Kiss any strangers, and give them your flowers, love many women. But, pray, don’t love one. These are the words that I send with my letter, piercing land after land they will moan; stay there as long […]
The Parabolic Ballad poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
My life, like a rocket, makes a parabola flying in darkness, — no rainbow for traveler. There once lived an artist, red-haired Gauguin, he was a bohemian, a former tradesman. To get to the Louvre from the lanes of Montmartre he circled around as far as Sumatra! He had to abandon the […]
The AntiWorlds poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
There is Bukashkin, our neighbor, in underpants of blotting paper, and, like balloons, the Antiworlds hang up above him in the vaults. Up there, like a magic daemon, he smartly rules the Universe, Antibukashkin lies there giving Lollobrigida a caress. The Anti-great-academician has got a blotting paper vision. Long live creative […]
Self-Portrait poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
Unshaven and thin, with an angular face He’s lain on my mattress for several days. A cast-iron shadow hangs down the stair, the lips, huge and bulging, smuggle and flare. “Hello, Russian poets, — his voice sounds wistful – shall I give you a razor or, maybe, a pistol? Are you a genius? […]
Russian-American Romance poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
In my land and yours they do hit the hay and sleep the whole night in a similar way. There’s the golden Moon with a double shine. It lightens your land and it lightens mine. At the same low price, that is for free, there’s the sunrise for you and the sunset […]
Rubber Souls poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
I hate you, rubber souls, you seem to stretch to fit any regime. They’ll give a yawning smile, stretched wide, and, like an octopus, they’ll draw you tight. A rubber man is an elusive rogue: a fist gets sucked into the bog. The rubber editor is scared of , the author […]
Modern Nature poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
Red cows on the asphalt road have settled. Lazing on the asphalt pan they lie. We drive them round for cows are sacred! They are loyal to the highway, we wonder why. “Old herdsman, we want our question answered: Why have the cows gone mad?” “God forbid! The point is that flies do […]
My Friend’s Light poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
I’m waiting for my friend. The gate’s unlocked. The banisters are lit so he can walk. I’m waiting for my friend. The times are dull and tough. Anticipation lightens our life. He’s driving down the Ring Road, at full speed, the way I did it when he was in need. He […]
Her Story poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
I started up the engine and I lingered. Where should I go? The night was fine, I figured. The bonnet trembled like a nervous hound. I shivered. Night lit up the houses around. The Balzac age, I felt its burning pain, Chilled to the bone, I couldn’t hold my own. The age of balsam […]
Fate poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
Fate is above me. Why should I browse? Sleeping in dosses, an outcast, I rove. Grief is a cellar, that opens in every old house. A ditch is below me and fate is above. What did I want? Well, a life of contentment. What did I get? Just a coffin and wreath… Under […]
Abuses and Awards poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
A poet can’t be in disfavour, he needs no awards, no fame. A star has no setting whatever, no black nor a golden frame. A star can’t be killed with a stone, or award, or that kind of stuff. He’ll bear the blow of a fawner lamenting he’s not big enough. What […]
A Ballad (Thesis for a Doctor’s Degree) poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
My doc announced yesterday : “You may have talent, though it’s hidden, your beak, however, is frost-bitten, so stick at home on a cold day”. The nose, eh? As irretrievable as time, conforming to the laws of medicine, your nose, like that of any person, keep growing steadily, with triumph! The noses of celebrities, of […]
Less Time poem – Andre Breton poems
Less time than it takes to say it, less tears than it takes to die; I’ve taken account of everything, there you have it. I’ve made a census of the stones, they are as numerous as my fingers and some others; I’ve distributed some pamphlets to the plants, but not all were willing to […]
Freedom of Love poem | L’Union Libre (Ma Femme) – Andre Breton poems
(Translated from the French by Edouard Rodti) My wife with the hair of a wood fire With the thoughts of heat lightning With the waist of an hourglass With the waist of an otter in the teeth of a tiger My wife with the lips of a cockade and of a bunch of stars of […]
Le Verbe Etre poem – Andre Breton poems
Je connais le désespoir dans ses grandes lignes. Le désespoir n’a pas d’ailes, il ne se tient pas nécessairement à une table desservie sur une terrasse, le soir, au bord de la mer. C’est le désespoir et ce n’est pas le retour d’une quantité de petits faits comme des graines qui quittent à la […]
Five Ways To Kill A Man poem – Andre Breton poems
There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man. You can make him carry a plank of wood to the top of a hill and nail him to it. To do this properly you require a crowd of people wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak to dissect, a sponge, some vinegar and […]
Always for the first time
Always for the first time Hardly do I know you by sight You return at some hour of the night to a house at an angle to my window A wholly imaginary house It is there that from one second to the next In the inviolate darkness I anticipate once more the fascinating rift […]
I have a dream
I have a dream A sweet dream A rain Of 2000 pound bombs falling On Tel Aviv Monumental explosions Eruptions of dust Engulfed in fire The nest of villainous Despicable vermin Squeals Bloodstreams Of filthy Zionist blood Flow in a stream Into the gutter The cancerous statelet Goes bust Fun A campaign Of universal liberation […]