PolyArchive

Nuits de juin Victor Hugo L’été, lorsque le jour a fui, de fleurs couverte La plaine verse au loin un parfum enivrant ; Les yeux fermés, l’oreille aux rumeurs entrouverte, On ne dort qu’à demi d’un sommeil transparent. Les astres sont plus purs, l’ombre paraît meilleure ; Un vague demi-jour teint le dôme éternel ; […]

Lies about Love D.H. Lawrence We are all liars, because the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow, whereas letters are fixed, and we live by the letter of truth. The love I feel for my friend, this year, is different from the love I felt last year. If it were not so, it would […]

Invocation Percy Bysshe Shelley Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day ‘Tis since thou are fled away. How shall ever one like me Win thee back again? With the joyous and the free Thou wilt scoff at pain. […]

Первый лед Андрей Вознесенский Мерзнет девочка в автомате, Прячет в зябкое пальтецо Все в слезах и губной помаде Перемазанное лицо. Дышит  в худенькие ладошки. Пальцы—льдышки.   В ушах—сережки. Ей обратно одной, одной Вдоль по улочке ледяной, Первый лед. Это в первый раз. Первый лед телефонных фраз. Мерзлый след на щеках блестит — Первый лед от людских […]

The Waking Theodore Roethke I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take […]

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods […]

Now at Liberty Dorothy Parker Little white love, your way you’ve taken; Now I am left alone, alone. Little white love, my heart’s forsaken. (Whom shall I get by telephone?) Well do I know there’s no returning; Once you go out, it’s done, it’s done. All of my days are gray with yearning. (Nevertheless, a […]

Spotkanie Czesław Miłosz Jechaliśmy przed świtem po zamarzłych polach, Czerwone skrzydło wstawało, jeszcze noc. I zając przebiegł nagle tuż przed nami, A jeden z nas pokazał go ręką. To było dawno. Dzisiaj już nie żyją Ni zając, ani ten co go wskazywał. Miłości moja, gdzież są, dokąd idą Błysk ręki, linia biegu, szelest grud — […]

Compensation Frances Ridley Havergal (1836-1879) Oh, the compensating springs! Oh, the balance-wheels of life, Hidden away in the workings under the seeming strife! Slowing the fret and the friction, weighting the whirl and the force, Evolving the truest power from each unconscious source. How shall we gauge the whole, who can only guess a part? […]

The Hollow Men T. S. Eliot Mistah Kurtz–he dead A penny for the Old Guy I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats’ feet over broken glass […]

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] e. e. cummings i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i […]

THE BALL POEM
John Berryman

What is the boy now, who has lost his ball,
What, what is he to do? I saw it go
Merrily bouncing, down the street, and then
Merrily over–there it is in the water!
No use to say ‘O there are other balls’:
An ultimate shaking grief fixes the boy