Author Archives: Paul Jacko

About Paul Jacko

Jacko was born in Czechoslovakia not long before the communist putsch in February 1948. He studied industrial chemistry there and left in 1969 for Australia, where he became a lawyer and established his own practice. He has now retired and beside hunting, fishing, camping, prospecting and playing golf he amuses himself by writing.

“I’m Hamlet Now…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets Alexandr Alexandrovich Blok (1880 – 1921) I’m Hamlet now. Freezes blood, When the perfidy waves laces, While love is first – and lives in heart For her – the one in times … Continue reading

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Monte Cassino

…from the quills of the dead white poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) Terra Di Lavoro Beautiful valley! through whose verdant meads Unheard the Garigliano glides along;– The Liris, nurse of rushes and of reeds, The river taciturn of … Continue reading

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Delilah

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) We have another viceroy now, — those days are dead and done Of Delilah Aberyswith and depraved Ulysses Gunne. Delilah Aberyswith was a lady — not too … Continue reading

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Verše

…from the quills of the dead white poets Karel Toman (1877 – 1946) Kam došli jste kdo? V září hvězd pod cizím nebem bloudili jsme spolu, snílkové z jiných dob. Vzpomínám. Střecha má mi drahá jest jak rodná země, jež … Continue reading

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“I Often Shiver With Cold”

…from the quills of the dead white poets Osip Mandelshtam 1891 -1938 I often shiver with cold – I want to be mute as a thing! There is, in the skies, dancing gold Sending me commands to sing! Singer, be … Continue reading

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Carry On!

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert William Service (1874 – 1958)   It’s easy to fight when everything’s right, And you’re mad with thrill and the glory; It’s easy to cheer when victory’s near, And wallow in … Continue reading

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Legenda tajemné viny

…from the quills of the dead white poets Otokar Březina (1868 -1929) Jas hodin mých budoucích ozářil chvíli tu v snech a všemi svícemi lustrů rozkvetl v dní mých slavnostní sály; tam prýštěla hudba mých budoucích jar a ztajených něh, … Continue reading

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The Answer

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) A Rose, in tatters on the garden path, Cried out to God and murmured ‘gainst His Wrath, Because a sudden wind at twilight’s hush Had snapped her … Continue reading

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The Beggar

…from the quills of the dead white poets Mikhail Lermontov (1814 – 1841) By gates of an abode, blessed, A man stood, asking for donation, A beggar, cruelly oppressed By hunger, thirst and deprivation. He asked just for a piece … Continue reading

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“Shall I Compare Thee…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)   Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s … Continue reading

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Just think!

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert William Service (1874 – 1958) Just think! some night the stars will gleam Upon a cold, grey stone, And trace a name with silver beam, And lo! ‘twill be your own. … Continue reading

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Agonie touhy

…from the quills of the dead white poets Otokar Březina (1868 -1929) Zda v pánvích západů vyhasly hořících jantarů víry, zlat zelený var na popel spálených duh, a půlnocí svit jenž modrými parami síry mlh závoje bílí a hazí na … Continue reading

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Mesopotamia

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) 1917 They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young, The eager and whole-hearted whom we gave: But the men who left them thriftily to die … Continue reading

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The Human Abstract

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827) Pity would be no more If we did not make somebody poor, And Mercy no more could be If all were as happy as we. And mutual … Continue reading

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Doupata hadů

…from the quills of the dead white poets Otokar Březina (1868 -1929) Skryté své zahrady viděl jsem v slavnostech července kvést, v blankytů éterná loubí se slétlo tisíce tajemných ptáků: na květech zrosených nechaly půlnoci nejsladší úsměvy hvězd, a jako … Continue reading

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“Fill a Glass…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Ernest Henley 1849 -1903   Fill a glass with golden wine, And the while your lips are wet Set your perfume unto mine, And forget. Every kiss we take and give … Continue reading

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Spirits of the Dead

…from the quills of the dead white poets Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849) Thy soul shall find itself alone ‘Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone; Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. … Continue reading

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“I Was Born In the Right Time…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets Anna Akhmatova (1889 – 1966) 1913 I was born in the right time, in whole, Only this time is one that is blessed, But great God did not let my poor soul … Continue reading

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Winter

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)   When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in … Continue reading

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“Bring Me an Axe and Spade…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827)   Bring me an axe and spade, Bring me a winding sheet; When I my grave have made, Let winds and tempests beat: Then down I lie, … Continue reading

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