Category Archives: Poetry

“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

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

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

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

“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

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Bacchic Song

…from the quills of the dead white poets Aleksandr Pushkin (1799 – 1837) Why hushed you, O, gaiety’s voice? Resound, the hymns of the Bacchus! Long live they, who ever had loved us – The beautiful women and sweet, gentle … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Autumn

…from the quills of the dead white poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) With what a glory comes and goes the year! The buds of spring, those beautiful harbingers Of sunny skies and cloudless times, enjoy Life’s newness, and … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Píseň zhýralého jinocha

…from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Nezemru já od práce, nezahynu bídou, nezalknu se v oprátce, skončím syfilidou. Nezemru já u holky ani na silnici. Zemru volky nevolky klidně v nemocnici. Nezískal jsem za … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

“When Priests Are More in World…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)   When priests are more in world than matter; When brewers mar their malt with water; When nobles are their tailors’ tutors; Nor heretics burn’d, but wenches’ … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Man Who Knew

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert William Service (1874 – 1958) The Dreamer visioned Life as it might be, And from his dream forthright a picture grew, A painting all the people thronged to see, And joyed … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Earth’s Answer

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827)   Earth raised up her head From the darkness dread and drear, Her light fled, Stony, dread, And her locks covered with grey despair. ‘Prisoned on watery … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Eldorado

…from the quills of the dead white poets Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849) Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old- This knight … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Vlastní podobizna

…from the quills of the dead white poets   Karel Toman (1877 – 1946) Daleko v hlubokém lese vyvěrá zpěvavý pramen. Z tmy k světlu se rodí a třese podsvětní píseň. Život mě křtil vodou živou, chuť hlubin a temnot … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Love And Death

…from the quills of dead white poets Lord Byron (1788 – 1824) I watched thee when the foe was at our side, Ready to strike at him – or thee and me Were safety hopeless – rather than divide Aught … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

O heavens, heavens,

…from the quills of the dead white poets Osip Mandelshtam 1891 -1938 O heavens, heavens, see you in my dreams! It is impossible — you had become so blind, And day was burned as if a page — to rims: … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

“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

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Poverty

…from the quills of the dead white poets Samuel Johnson (1709 – 1784) Has heaven reserv’d, in pity to the poor, No pathless waste, or undiscover’d shore? No secret island in the boundless main? No peaceful desert yet unclaim’d by … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Dalliance of the Eagles

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) Skirting the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles, The rushing amorous contact high in … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Hlas noci

…from the quills of the dead white poets Karel Toman (1877 – 1946) Město tě volá, odbojného syna, ó slyš. Ať kladivo jsi, nebo kovadlina, ty zníš. Odvěká píseň, boj a věčné drama hrá v tmách, a tvoje duše žíti … Continue reading

Posted in Czech, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

I Am He that Aches with Love

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   I am he that aches with amorous love; Does the earth gravitate? Does not all matter, aching, attract all matter? So the body of me to … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Beast and Man in India

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) They killed a Child to please the Gods In Earth’s young penitence, And I have bled in that Babe’s stead Because of innocence. I bear the sins … Continue reading

Posted in History, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

No Labor

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) No Labor-Saving Machine Nor discovery have I made, Nor will I be able to leave behind me any wealthy bequest to found a hospital or library, Nor … Continue reading

Posted in America, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment