Category Archives: Poetry

Od rána dřepěl jsem vesele

…from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Od rána dřepěl jsem vesele v hospodě při plné sklence. Se mnou seděli přátelé, ztracené existence. Kouřil jsem tabák laciný, z úst kouř jsem vypouštěl líně, při tom … Continue reading

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Savantism

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Thither as I look I see each result and glory retracing itself and nestling close, always obligated, Thither hours, months, years – thither trades, compacts, establishments, … Continue reading

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Never seek to tell thy love

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827) Never seek to tell thy love Love that never told could be; For the gentle wind does move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my … Continue reading

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Presentiment

…from the quills of the dead white poets Aleksander Pushkin (1799 – 1837) 1828 Again clouds of the mute heavens Came together o’er my head; And again the karma, envious, Threatens me with future’s bad… Should I scorn all fate’s … Continue reading

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Me impertube

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) Me impertube, standing at ease in Nature, Master of all or mistress of all, aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they, passive, receptive, silent … Continue reading

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Rád věděl bych, proč právě nyní vzkvétá

…from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Rád věděl bych, proč právě nyní vzkvétá v mé duši smutek s chladným podzimem. Nevím přec, proč bych litovat měl léta jež nezažehlo ohně v srdci mém. Večerní … Continue reading

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Brown Bess

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) The Army Musket–1700-1815 In the days of lace-ruffles, perukes and brocade Brown Bess was a partner whom none could despise– An out-spoken, flinty-lipped, brazen-faced jade, With a … Continue reading

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Vřes

…from the quills of the dead white poets Fráňa Šrámek (1877 -1952) Když kvete vřes, tu víme, že v číši už jen zbývá poslední jiskra. Dopíjíme a přes rameno se nám dívá stín. Pak zmodrá les a večer sivý do … Continue reading

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Romance

…from the quills of the dead white poets Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849) Romance, who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, … Continue reading

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Arithmetic on the Frontier

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) A great and glorious thing it is To learn, for seven years or so, The Lord knows what of that and this, Ere reckoned fit to face … Continue reading

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Kočky mňoukaly na střeše

…from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Kočky mňoukaly na střeše, následkem čehož jsem procit. Kočky mňoukaly na střeše: Láska je podivný pocit. Lásko, ty hvězdo zářící nad mořem bídy a vzdechů, proč jsi se … Continue reading

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I hear It was Charged against Me

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   I hear it was charged against me that I sought to destroy institutions, But really I am neither for nor against institutions, (What indeed have I … Continue reading

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Hymn Before Action

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) The earth is full of anger, The seas are dark with wrath, The Nations in their harness Go up against our path: Ere yet we loose the … Continue reading

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To a Common Prostitute

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Be composed – be at ease with me – I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty as Nature, Not till the sun excludes you do I … Continue reading

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The Ballad of Dead Ladies

…from the quills of the dead white poets Francois Villon (1431 – 1463) Tell me now in what hidden ways is Lady Flora, the lovely Roman? Where’s Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is … Continue reading

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Motýl

. ..from the quills of the dead white poets Petr Bezruč (1867 – 1958) Přes smrky, břemy, přes haluze jedlí lehounký vánek se skřivánkem zvednul; přes řeku vzpomínek loďky snů bředly, motýl mi naruku sednul. Láska jsi, štěstí jsi, sličný … Continue reading

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The Children

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) The Children 1914-1918 “The Honours of War” – A Diversity of Creatures These were our children who died for our land: they were dear in our sight. … Continue reading

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The French Wars

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936 (Napoleonic) The boats of Newhaven and Folkestone and Dover To Dieppe and Boulogne and to Calais cross over; And in each of those runs there is not … Continue reading

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Perspektiva

…from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Má milá rozmilá, neplakej! Život už není jinakej. Dnes buďme ještě veselí na naší bílé posteli! Zejtra, co zejtra! Kdožpak ví, Zejtra si lehneme do rakví.

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A Boy Scouts’ Patrol Song

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) These are our regulations — There’s just one law for the Scout And the first and the last, and the present and the past, And the future … Continue reading

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