A poem by Aeschylus (c. 525 – c. 456 Before Christ )
The night was passing, and the Grecian host
By no means sought to issue forth unseen.
But when indeed the day with her white steeds
Held all the earth, resplendent to behold,
First from the Greeks the loud-resounding din
Of song triumphant came; and shrill at once
Echo responded from the island rock.
Then upon all barbarians terror fell,
Thus disappointed; for not as for flight
The Hellenes sang the holy pæan then,
But setting forth to battle valiantly.
The bugle with its note inflamed them all;
And straightway with the dip of plashing oars
They smote the deep sea water at command,
And quickly all were plainly to be seen.
Their right wing first in orderly array
Led on, and second all the armament
Followed them forth; and meanwhile there was heard
A mighty shout: “Come, O ye sons of Greeks,
Make free your country, make your children free,
Your wives, and fanes of your ancestral gods,
And your sires’ tombs! For all we now contend!”
And from our side the rush of Persian speech
Replied. No longer might the crisis wait.
At once ship smote on ship with brazen beak;
A vessel of the Greeks began the attack,
Crushing the stem of a Phoenician ship.
Each on a different vessel turned its prow.
At first the current of the Persian host
Withstood; but when within the strait the throng
Of ships was gathered, and they could not aid
Each other, but by their own brazen bows
Were struck, they shattered all our naval host.
The Grecian vessels not unskillfully
Were smiting round about; the hulls of ships
Were overset; the sea was hid from sight,
Covered with wreckage and the death of men;
The reefs and headlands were with corpses filled,
And in disordered flight each ship was rowed,
As many as were of the Persian host.
But they, like tunnies or some shoal of fish,
With broken oars and fragments of the wrecks
Struck us and clove us; and at once a cry
Of lamentation filled the briny sea,
Till the black darkness’ eye did rescue us.
The number of our griefs, not though ten days
I talked together, could I fully tell;
But this know well, that never in one day
Perished so great a multitude of men.
A few random poems:
- Secrecy Protested. by Thomas Carew
- Владимир Маяковский – Протекция
- Юлия Жадовская – Да, я вижу
- The River by Sara Teasdale
- Green Fields by W. S. Merwin
- I hear the roar of a Harley… by River Urke
- The Morning Of The Day Appointed For A General Thanksgiving. January 18, 1816 by William Wordsworth
- Behold the hour by Robert Burns
- Вера Павлова – Покамест я всем детям тётя
- Poem
- At the Zoo poem – A. A. Milne poem
- Федор Сологуб – Ах, лягушки по дорожке
- Sonnet CXLII by William Shakespeare
- Robert Burns: On Politics:
- Song by William Browne
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
- Robert Burns: To A Louse: On Seeing One On A Lady’s Bonnet, At Church
- Robert Burns: To Mr. M’Adam, Of Craigen-Gillan: In answer to an obliging Letter he sent in the commencement of my poetic career.
- Robert Burns: To John Kennedy, Dumfries House:
- Robert Burns: The Inventory: In answer to a mandate by the Surveyor of the Taxes
- Robert Burns: Address To The Unco Guid, Or The Rigidly Righteous:
- Robert Burns: Here’s His Health In Water :
- Robert Burns: The Rantin’ Dog, The Daddie O’t:
- Robert Burns: The Vision:
- Robert Burns: Epistle To James Smith:
- Robert Burns: The Ordination : For sense they little owe to frugal Heav’n- To please the mob, they hide the little giv’n.
- Robert Burns: The Author’s Earnest Cry And Prayer: To the Right Honourable and Honourable Scotch Representatives in the House of Commons.
- Robert Burns: The Twa Dogs: A Tale
- Robert Burns: The Auld Farmer’s New-Year-Morning Salutation To His Auld Mare, Maggie: On giving her the accustomed ripp of corn to hansel in the New Year.
- Robert Burns: Scotch Drink :
- Robert Burns: Address To The Deil:
- Robert Burns: The Cotter’s Saturday Night: Inscribed to R. Aiken, Esq., of Ayr.
- Robert Burns: Merry Hae I Been Teethin A Heckle:
- Robert Burns: For A’ That:
- Robert Burns: The Jolly Beggars: A Cantata:
- Robert Burns: Adam Armour’s Prayer:
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
Aeschylus (525 Before Christ to 456 B.C.) was an ancient Greek author of Greek tragedy, and is often described as the father of tragedy. Academics’ knowledge of the genre begins with his work, and understanding of earlier Greek tragedy is largely based on inferences made from reading his surviving plays. According to Aristotle, he expanded the number of characters in the theatre and allowed conflict among them.