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.

She Walks In Beauty

…from the quills of dead white poets Lord Byron (1788 – 1824)   (From “Hebrew Melodies”) She walks in Beauty, like the night Or cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meat in her … Continue reading

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The Little Girl Found

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827)   All the night in woe Lyca’s parents go Over valleys deep, While the deserts weep. Tired and woe-begone, Hoarse with making moan, Arm in arm, seven … Continue reading

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Zas ve vidění prorockém

…from the quills of the dead white poets Otokar Březina (1868 -1929) Zas ve vidění prorockém noc šeptá slova neznámá, šum stromů, tisíc jazyků, je opakuje nad náma: jak nad zrcadla kouzelná se k tichým vodám naklání, z nichž tisíc … Continue reading

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Cold Iron

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) Gold is for the mistress — silver for the maid – Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.” “Good!” said the Baron, sitting in his hall, … Continue reading

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Ad Martialem

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 – 1894) Go(d) knows, my Martial, if we two could be To enjoy our days set wholly free; To the true life together bend our mind, And take … Continue reading

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The Absent-Minded Beggar

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) When you’ve shouted “Rule Britannia,” when you’ve sung “God save the Queen,” When you’ve finished killing Kruger with your mouth, Will you kindly drop a shilling in … Continue reading

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“Ye, Who Would More Of Spain…”

…from the quills of dead white poets Lord Byron (1788 – 1824)   (From “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,” Canto One) LXXXVII Ye, who would more of Spain and Spaniards know, Go, read whate’er is writ of bloodiest strife: Whate’er keen Vengeance … Continue reading

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“Yet Here, Laertes!…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)   (From “Hamlet, Prince of Denmark”) Yet here, Laertes! Aboard, aboard, for The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay’d for. There, … Continue reading

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Silence

…from the quills of the dead white poets Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849) There are some qualities- some incorporate things, That have a double life, which thus is made A type of that twin entity which springs From matter … Continue reading

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“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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