The line
that remained, that
became true: . . . your
house in Paris — become
the alterpiece of your hands.
Breathed through thrice,
shone through thrice.
……………….
It’s turning dumb, turning deaf
behind our eyes.
I see the poison flower
in all manner of words and shapes.
Go. Come.
Love blots out its name: to
you it ascribes itself.
Tr. Michael Hamburger
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Владимир Костров – То в ночи она вспыхнет, как спичка
- On A Miser, 3 (From The Greek) by William Cowper
- Алексей Хомяков – Русская песня
- Sancta Maria, Succurre Miseris poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Insomniac by Maya Angelou
- Василий Тредиаковский – Ну, так уже я не стал быть вашим отныне
- Behind a Wall poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Eclogue:–A Ghost by William Barnes
- Николай Заболоцкий – Искушение
- The Nuclear Ghost Towns
- Crazy Jane And Jack The Journeyman by William Butler Yeats
- Николай Языков – Дева ночи
- Lover’s Gifts XIX: It Is Written in the Book by Rabindranath Tagore
- Silence by Riju Dave
- Haiku: January by Monty Gilmer
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).
