Category Archives: Poetry

Youth, Day, Old Age and Night

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Youth, large, lusty, loving – youth full of grace, force, fascination, Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force, fascination? … Continue reading

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Prosinec

…from the quills of the dead white poets Karel Toman (1877 – 1946) Šla do Betléma rovná cesta, zářila hvězda, všechno bylo prosté. A za nábožných písní sny otců našich věčně putovaly po starém mostě. Byl, nebyl Betlém? Však na … Continue reading

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When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) When I heard the learn’d astronomer, When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me, When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, … Continue reading

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The White Man’s Burden 1899

…from the quills of dead white poets Rudyard Kipling ( 1865 – 1936) Take up the White man’s burden — Send forth the best ye breed — Go bind your sons to exile To serve your captives’ need; To wait … Continue reading

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The Holy War 1917

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) “For here lay the excellent wisdom of him that built Mansoul, that the walls could never be broken down nor hurt by the most mighty adverse potentate … Continue reading

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By the waters of Babylon

…from the quills of dead white poets Lord Byron (1788 – 1824) (From “Hebrew Melodies”) In the valley of waters we wept on the day When the host of the Stranger made Salem his prey; And our heads on our bosoms … Continue reading

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Zlé dni

…from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Před čtrnácti dny, předevčírem, včera, vždy tentýž stav. Proč, nemám tušení. Úzkost mě tiskne hrdlo. Nedůvěra mé smysly svírá v trapném vzrušení. Zní neupřímnost v slovech. Podezřele působí … Continue reading

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The Soldier

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rupert Brooke (1887 – 1915) If I should die, think this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is forever England. There shall be In that rich earth … Continue reading

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The Portent

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) 0h, late withdrawn from human-kind And following dreams we never knew! Varus, what dream has Fate assigned To trouble you? Such virtue as commends of law Of … Continue reading

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To a President

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   All you are doing and saying is to America dangled mirages, You have not learn’d of Nature – of the politics of Nature You have not … Continue reading

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Snow-flakes

…from the quills of the dead white poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, … Continue reading

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“The Rhine was red”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827) The Rhine was red with humane blood, The Danube roll’d a purple tide, On the Euphrates Satan stood And over Asia stretch’d his pride. He wither’d up … Continue reading

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The Destroyers

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) The strength of twice three thousand horse That seeks the single goal; The line that holds the rending course, The hate that swings the whole; The stripped … Continue reading

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The Gates of Paradise

…from the quills of the dead white poets Nikolay Gumilev (1886 – 1921) The eternal entrance into Eden Is not locked with seven precious seals; It has no charms nor light of heaven, And the people don’t know that it … Continue reading

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Away with funeral music

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 – 1894) Away with funeral music – set The pipe to powerful lips – The cup of life’s for him that drinks And not for him that sips.

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We shall surely die…

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Ernest Henley 1849 -1903 We shall surely die: Must we needs grow old? Grow old and cold, And we know not why? O, the By-and-By, And the tale that’s told! We … Continue reading

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The Snow Maiden

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Alexandr Alexandrovich Blok (1880 – 1921) She came to me from the vast distance – The child of night and other times. Her kin were lost in space and seasons, Our … Continue reading

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When daffodils begin to peer

  …from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616) When daffodils begin to peer, — With hey! The doxy over the dale, — Why, then comes in the sweet o’ the year; For the red … 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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Dark house

…from the quills of the dead white poets Alfred Tennyson (1809 – 1892) Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street. Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a … Continue reading

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