Whilst what I write I do not see,
I dare thus, ev’n to you, write poetry.
Ah, foolish Muse! which dost so high aspire,
And know’st her judgment well,
How much it does thy power excel,
Yet dar’st be read by, thy just doom, the fire.
Alas! thou think’st thyself secure,
Because thy form is innocent and pure:
Like hypocrites, which seem unspotted here;
But, when they sadly come to die,
And the last fire their truth must try,
Scrawled o’er like thee, and blotted, they appear.
Go then, but reverently go,
And, since thou needs must sin, confess it too:
Confess ‘t, and with humility clothe thy shame;
For thou, who else must burned be
An heretick, if she pardon thee,
Mayst like a martyr then enjoy the flame.
But, if her wisdom grow severe,
And suffer not her goodness to be there;
If her large mercies cruelly it restrain;
Be not discourag’d, but require
A more gentle ordeal fire,
And bid her by love’s flames read it again.
Strange power of heat! thou yet dost show
Like winter-earth, naked, or cloth’d with snow:
But as, the quickening sun approaching near,
The plants arise up by degrees;
A sudden paint adorns the trees,
And all kind Nature’s characters appear.
So, nothing yet in thee is seen;
But, when a genial heat warms thee within,
A new-born wood of various lines there grows;
Here buds an A, and there a B,
Here sprouts a V, and there a T,
And all the flourishing letters stand in rows.
Still, silly paper! thou wilt think
That all this might as well be writ with ink:
Oh, no; there’s sense in this, and mystery-
Thou now mayst change thy author’s name,
And to her hand lay noble claim;
For, as she reads, she makes, the words in thee.
Yet – if thine own unworthiness
Will still that thou art mine, not hers confess-
Consume thy self with fire before her eyes,
And so her grace or pity move:
The gods, though beasts they do not love,
Yet like them when they ‘re burnt in sacrifice.
A few random poems:
- Desmond’s Song by Thomas Moore
- Владимир Маяковский – Смотри, рабочий! Вот о чем сегодня речь (Главполитпросвет №166)
- Is Life Worth Living? poem – Alfred Austin
- VII: Some Verses: On The Death of John Murray by William Alexander
- Илона Грошева – Когда приходит Дима в парк
- You by Thonda Sri Indrani
- Ouija by Sylvia Plath
- The Home by Rabindranath Tagore
- The Boy by William Henry Davies
- Laws for Creations. by Walt Whitman
- To A Young Lady Who Had Been Reproached For Taking Long Walks In The Country by William Wordsworth
- Epilogue by Robert Lowell
- The City Revisited by Stephen Vincent Benet
- Михаил Кузмин – Вы белое бургундское вино
- Robert Burns: Delia, An Ode : “To the Editor of The Star.-Mr. Printer-If the productions of a simple ploughman can merit a place in the same paper with Sylvester Otway, and the other favourites of the Muses who illuminate the Star with the lustre of genius, your insertion of the enclosed trifle will be succeeded by future communications from-Yours, &c., R. Burns. Ellisland, near Dumfries, 18th May, 1789.”
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
- Яков Полонский – Цветок
- Яков Полонский – Чтобы песня моя разлилась как поток
- Яков Полонский – Чайка
- Яков Полонский – Братья
- Яков Полонский – Блажен озлобленный поэт
- Яков Полонский – Белая ночь
- Яков Полонский – А. Н. Майкову (ответ на стихи его: Полонский! Суждено опять судьбою злою)
- Яков Полонский – Последний вздох
- Яков Полонский – После праздника
- Яков Полонский – Полонский здесь не без привета
- Яков Полонский – Поэт и гражданин, он призван был учить
- Яков Полонский – Подойди ко мне, старушка
- Яков Полонский – Поцелуй
- Яков Полонский – По горам две хмурых тучи
- Яков Полонский – Письмо
- Яков Полонский – Песня циганки
- Яков Полонский – Памяти В. М. Гаршина
- Яков Полонский – Памяти С. Я. Надсона
- Яков Полонский – Откуда
- Яков Полонский – Орел и голубка
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
Abraham Cowley (1618 – 1667), the Royalist Poet.Poet and essayist Abraham Cowley was born in London, England, in 1618. He displayed early talent as a poet, publishing his first collection of poetry, Poetical Blossoms (1633), at the age of 15. Cowley studied at Cambridge University but was stripped of his Cambridge fellowship during the English Civil War and expelled for refusing to sign the Solemn League and Covenant of 1644. In turn, he accompanied Queen Henrietta Maria to France, where he spent 12 years in exile, serving as her secretary. During this time, Cowley completed The Mistress (1647). Arguably his most famous work, the collection exemplifies Cowley’s metaphysical style of love poetry. After the Restoration, Cowley returned to England, where he was reinstated as a Cambridge fellow and earned his MD before finally retiring to the English countryside. He is buried at Westminster Abbey alongside Geoffrey Chaucer and Edmund Spenser. Cowley is a wonderful poet and an outstanding representative of the English baroque.