Category Archives: Poetry

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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By the Hoof of the Wild Goat

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) By the Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed From the cliff where she lay in the Sun Fell the Stone To the Tarn where the daylight is … Continue reading

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Love Song

…from the styluses of the long dead poets Sumerian Love Song ( 27th century B.C.) He has sprouted, he has burgeoned, he is lettuce planted by the water, My well-stocked garden of the plain, my favoured of the womb, My … Continue reading

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The Moon In a Zenith

…from the quills of the dead white poets Anna Akhmatova (1889 – 1966) But nothing changed for ages here… In the same way the divine lyre Pours bliss from the eternal crests. Same are the waters and stars’ throngs, And … Continue reading

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Akbar’s Bridge

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) JELALUDIN MUHAMMED AKBAR, Guardian of Mankind, Moved his standards out of Delhi to Jaunpore of lower Hind, Where a mosque was to be builded, and a lovelier … Continue reading

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That Shadow of My Likeness

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   That shadow my likeness that goes to and fro seeking a livelihood, chattering, chaffering, How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it … Continue reading

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Where the bee sucks…

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616) Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip’s bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat’s back I do fly … Continue reading

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Quicksand Years

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Quicksand years that whirl me I know not whither, Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and elude me, Only the scheme I sing, … Continue reading

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The Hyaenas

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) After the burial-parties leave And the baffled kites have fled; The wise hyaenas come out at eve To take account of our dead. How he died … Continue reading

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The deaf called the deaf

…from the quills of the dead white poets Aleksandr Pushkin (1799 – 1837) The deaf once called the deaf to the deaf judge – right now; The first deaf cried: “He’s spoiled my own cow!” – “For goodness’ sake,” to … Continue reading

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Fata Morgana

…from the quills of the dead white poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) O sweet illusions of Song, That tempt me everywhere, In the lonely fields, and the throng Of the crowded thoroughfare! I approach, and ye vanish away, … Continue reading

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I can’t sleep

…from the quills of the dead white poets Osip Mandelshtam 1891 -1938 I can’t sleep. Homer, and the taut white sails. I could the list of ships read only to a half: The long-long breed, the train of flying cranes … Continue reading

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The Quest

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert William Service (1874 – 1958) I sought Him on the purple seas; I sought Him on the peaks aflame; Amid the gloom of giant trees And canyons lone I called His … Continue reading

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Tears

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Tears! tears! tears! In the night, in solitude, tears, On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck’d in by the sand Tears, not a star shining, all … Continue reading

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The Prophecy

…from the quills of the dead white poets Mikhail Lermontov (1814 – 1841) A year will come, the year of Russia, last, When the monarchs’ crown will be cast; Mob will forget its former love and faith, And food of … Continue reading

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Mesopotamia (1917)

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) 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 in … Continue reading

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Life is bitter

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Ernest Henley 1849 -1903 Life is bitter. All the faces of the years, Young and old, are gray with travail and with tears. Must we only wake to toil, to tire, … Continue reading

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