A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)
We first saw fire on the tragic slopes
Where the flood-tide of France’s early gain,
Big with wrecked promise and abandoned hopes,
Broke in a surf of blood along the Aisne.
The charge her heroes left us, we assumed,
What, dying, they reconquered, we preserved,
In the chill trenches, harried, shelled, entombed,
Winter came down on us, but no man swerved.
Winter came down on us. The low clouds, torn
In the stark branches of the riven pines,
Blurred the white rockets that from dusk till morn
Traced the wide curve of the close-grappling lines.
In rain, and fog that on the withered hill
Froze before dawn, the lurking foe drew down;
Or light snows fell that made forlorner still
The ravaged country and the ruined town;
Or the long clouds would end. Intensely fair,
The winter constellations blazing forth —
Perseus, the Twins, Orion, the Great Bear —
Gleamed on our bayonets pointing to the north.
And the lone sentinel would start and soar
On wings of strong emotion as he knew
That kinship with the stars that only War
Is great enough to lift man’s spirit to.
And ever down the curving front, aglow
With the pale rockets’ intermittent light,
He heard, like distant thunder, growl and grow
The rumble of far battles in the night, —
Rumors, reverberant, indistinct, remote,
Borne from red fields whose martial names have won
The power to thrill like a far trumpet-note, —
Vic, Vailly, Soupir, Hurtelise, Craonne . . .
Craonne, before thy cannon-swept plateau,
Where like sere leaves lay strewn September’s dead,
I found for all dear things I forfeited
A recompense I would not now forego.
For that high fellowship was ours then
With those who, championing another’s good,
More than dull Peace or its poor votaries could,
Taught us the dignity of being men.
There we drained deeper the deep cup of life,
And on sublimer summits came to learn,
After soft things, the terrible and stern,
After sweet Love, the majesty of Strife;
There where we faced under those frowning heights
The blast that maims, the hurricane that kills;
There where the watchlights on the winter hills
Flickered like balefire through inclement nights;
There where, firm links in the unyielding chain,
Where fell the long-planned blow and fell in vain —
Hearts worthy of the honor and the trial,
We helped to hold the lines along the Aisne.
A few random poems:
- Memorials of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 I. Departure From The Vale Of Grasmere, August 1803 by William Wordsworth
- Кондратий Рылеев – Как солнце ни блестит и как оно ни светит
- “Why should I, from this long and losing strife ” poem – Alfred Austin
- Николай Гумилев – Любовь весной
- Hush’d be the Camps To-day. by Walt Whitman
- Владимир Британишский – Философы! Не верьте островам
- The Kiss by Sara Teasdale
- Untitled XI by Yunus Emre
- Илья Эренбург – Я не трубач, труба
- Parliament Hill Fields by Sylvia Plath
- The End of the Argument by Martina Reisz Newberry
- The rainy Pleiads wester poem – A. E. Housman
- The Ballad of the Red Earl by Rudyard Kipling
- Totem by Sylvia Plath
- Владимир Высоцкий – Невидимка
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 Маяковский – Не юбилейте
- Владимир Маяковский – Не вразброд, не случайно (Главполитпросвет)
- Владимир Маяковский – Не увлекайтесь нами
- Владимир Маяковский – Не только для того, чтоб тебя накормить… (Главполитпросвет №2)
- Владимир Маяковский – Не предаваясь “большевистским бредням” (Красный перец)
- Владимир Маяковский – Не пей сырой воды! (Главполитпросвет №230)
- Владимир Маяковский – Не эти правильно революцию празднуют… (РОСТА №399)
- Владимир Маяковский – Не эти правильно Октябрь празднуют… (РОСТА №398)
- Владимир Маяковский – Наврут полный короб… (Главполитпросвет №68)
- Владимир Маяковский – Наши поправки в англо-советский договор (Красный перец)
- Владимир Маяковский – Наше воскресенье
- Владимир Маяковский – Наш паровоз, стрелой лети
- Владимир Маяковский – Нас шахтер углем поздравит… (РОСТА)
- Владимир Маяковский – Нас потеснили… (РОСТА №337)
- Владимир Маяковский – Нападали белогвардейцы на Донецкий бассейн… (РОСТА №611)
- Владимир Маяковский – Нам бы только вот это воскресити… (РОСТА)
- Владимир Маяковский – Головотяпам
- Владимир Маяковский – Голос Красной площади
- Владимир Маяковский – Голодные! Пан Украину грабит… (РОСТА №106)
- Владимир Маяковский – Глупая история
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
Alan Seeger (1888-1916) was an American war poet who fought and died in World War I during the Battle of the Somme, serving in the French Foreign Legion. Seeger was the brother of Charles Seeger, a noted American pacifist and musicologist and the uncle of folk musician, Pete Seeger.