Category Archives: Poetry

Prosinec

…from the quills of the dead white poets Fráňa Šrámek (1877 -1952) Po sněhu půjdu čistém, bílém, hru v srdci zvonkovou. Vánoční země je mým cílem. Až hvězdy vyplovou, tu budu blízko již. A bude ještě blíž, až lesní půjdu … Continue reading

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When I Read the Book

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) When I read the book, the biography famous, And is this then (said I) what the author calls a man’s life? (As if any man really knew … Continue reading

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Píseň

…from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Vím, skepse má je příliš tvrdá a mysl má je příliš hrdá, a výsměch zlý a rouhavý extáze moje otráví. Rád v noci bdím a ve dne dřímám … Continue reading

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The spirits of the Dead

…from the quills of the dead white poets Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849) Thy soul shall find itself alone ‘Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone; Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. … Continue reading

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Another witch hunt

…from the quill of Antisthenes the Younger I have written on many occasions about academia and the sorry state it finds itself in. [Eg. February 2012 / Fog of Chaos – Universal madness]. Not all academics are spineless, venal charlatans, … Continue reading

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Let somebody else rest …

…from the quills of the dead white poets Anna Akhmatova (1889 – 1966) Let somebody else rest by southern sea, Enjoying the paradise land, It’s northerly here, and fall of this year, I chose to be my girl-friend. I’ve carried … Continue reading

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The Base of All Metaphysics

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   And now gentlemen, A word I give to remain in your memories and minds, As base and finalè too for all metaphysics. (So to the students … Continue reading

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Už se mi k smrti protiví

…from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Už se mi k smrti protiví ve svých citech se nimrat. Už se mi k smrti protiví bolestí svou se šimrat. Nejlépe bylo by přetrhnout všechna pouta a … Continue reading

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Ages and Ages Returning at Intervals

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) Ages and ages returning at intervals, Undestroy’d, wandering immortal, Lusty, phallic, with potent original loins, perfectly sweet, I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden the … Continue reading

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Spring

…from the quills of the dead white poets James Thomson (1700-1748) From the moist meadow to the wither’d hill, Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs, And swells, and deepens, to the cherish’d eye. The hawthorn whitens; and the … Continue reading

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The Flag of England

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) Above the portico a flag-staff, bearing the Union Jack, remained fluttering in the flames for some time, but ultimately when it fell the crowds rent the air … Continue reading

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Bláznění vjelo do párů

…from the quills of the dead white poets  František Gellner (1881 -1914)  Bláznění vjelo do párů a v hudby potrhlou notu. Sál byl pln kouře a výparů piva a lidského potu. V kole jsem pobyl jen krátký čas. K tanci … Continue reading

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Far Away

…from the quills of the dead white poets Dag Hjalmar Agne Carl Hammarskjöld (1905 – 1961) The brilliant notes of the flute Are heard by the gods In the Cave of Birth. Himalayan ice-cliffs beyond the hills Of Vézelay at … Continue reading

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A Double Ballad of Good Counsel

…from the quills of the dead white poets Francois Villon (1431 – 1463) Now take your fill of love and glee, And after balls and banquets hie; In the end ye’ll get no good for fee, But just heads broken … Continue reading

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The Unwashed Russia

…from the quills of the dead white poets  Mikhail Lermontov (1814 – 1841) Forever you, the unwashed Russia! The land of slaves the land of lords: And you, the blue-uniformed ushers, And people who worship them as gods. I hope, … Continue reading

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Srpnová neděle

…from the quills of the dead white poets Fráňa Šrámek (1877 -1952)   To byla neděle, a když počínala, Naše četa zuby drkotala, půl sta moučných červů z písku lezlo, z děr, po čtyřech jsme lezli, by nespatřil nás nepřítel. … Continue reading

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If

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt … Continue reading

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The Burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna

…from the quills of the dead white poets   Charles Wolfe (1791 – 1823) No drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O’er the grave … Continue reading

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Adieu to a Soldier

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Adieu to a Soldier, You of the rude campaigning, (which we shared,) The rapid march, the life of camp, The hot contention of opposing fronts, the … Continue reading

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The Pirates in England

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) Saxon Invasion, A.D. 400-600 When Rome was rotten-ripe to her fall, And the sceptre passed from her hand, The pestilent Picts leaped over the wall To harry … Continue reading

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