Morning Again as Tradition Dies Slowly T-shirt
We present to your attention a selection of laconic poems past famous English and American poets. The poems will open the world of nice, tender feelings and philosophical outlook on life, brilliant cheerful jokes and witty English language humor to you lot. Curt poems are easy to read and memorize.
George Gordon Byron
Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star!
Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far,
That bear witness'st the darkness thou canst not dispel,
How like fine art thou to Joy recollect'd well!
And then gleams the past, the calorie-free of other days,
Which shines, simply warms not with its powerless rays;
A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold,
Distinct, only afar – articulate, but oh, how cold!
Alfred Edward Housman
It nods and curtseys and recovers
When the wind blows higher up,
The nettle on the graves of lovers
That hanged themselves for dearest.
The nettle nods, the wind blows over,
The man, he does not move,
The lover of the grave, the lover
That hanged himself for love.
***
Oh, when I was in beloved with you lot,
And then I was clean and brave,
And miles around the wonder grew
How well did I behave.
And at present the fancy passes by,
And nothing volition remain,
And miles around they'll say that I
Am quite myself again.
When I came concluding to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight pale,
2 friends kept step beside me,
Ii honest lads and unhurt.
Now Dick lies long in the churchyard,
And Ned lies long in jail,
And I come home to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight stake.
***
Oh on my chest in days time to come
Calorie-free the earth should prevarication,
Such weight to bear is now the air,
So heavy hangs the sky.
Hilaire Belloc
The Large Birdie
The Big Baboon is establish upon
The plains of Cariboo;
He goes about with goose egg on
(A shocking thing to practice.)
Simply if he dressed respectably
And let his whiskers grow
How like this Big Baboon would be
To Mister So-and-So!
Walter de la Mare
The Horseman
I heard a horseman
Ride over the hill;
The moon shone clear,
The dark was notwithstanding;
His helm was silverish,
And pale was he;
And the horse he rode
Was of ivory.
***
Hide and Seek
Hide and seek, says the Wind,
In the shade of the forest;
Hide and seek, says the Moon,
To the hazel buds;
Hide and seek, says the Deject,
Star on to star;
Hide and seek, says the Wave
At the harbour bar;
Hide and seek, says I,
To myself, and pace
Out of the dream of Wake
Into the dream of Sleep.
T. E. Hulme
Autumn
A bear on of common cold in the Autumn night —
I walked abroad,
And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
Similar a red-faced farmer.
I did non stop to speak, merely nodded,
And round about were the contemplative stars
With white faces like town children.
***
The beach
(The fantasia of a fallen gentleman on a cold, bitter nighttime)
Once, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy,
In a flash of gold heels on the hard pavement.
Now see I
That warmth's the very stuff of poetry.
Oh, God, brand small
The former star-eaten blanket of the sky,
That I may fold it round me and in condolement lie.
Richard Aldington
To Those Who Played for Safe in Life
I likewise might have worn starched cuffs,
Accept gulped my morning repast in haste,
Accept clothed myself in dismal staffs
Which show a sober City gustation;
I likewise might have rocked and craned
In undergrounds for daily news,
And watched my soul grow slowly stained
To middle-course unsightly hues...
I might have earned x pounds a week!
Richard Church
The Last Liberty
The blind homo, when the skylark shakes
Trill over trill from the bluish above,
Stares up and from darkness wakes
Through sockets eloquent with love.
If our defective senses thus
Kindle at glories half-divined,
What of the joy pending us
When death brings freedom to the listen?
George Barker
Summertime Song II
Soft is the coolied dark, and cool
These regions where the dreamers dominion,
As Summer, in her rose and robe,
Astride the horses of the globe,
Drags, fighting, from the midnight sky,
The mushroom at whose glance nosotros die.
Philip Larkin
Cascade away that youth
That overflows the centre
Into hair and rima oris;
Have the grave's part,
Tell the bone'south truth.
Throw away that youth
That gem in the head
That statuary in the jiff;
Walk with the dead
For fear of death.
***
Within the dream you said:
Let us kiss then,
In this room, in this bed,
But when all'due south washed
We must non meet again.
Hearing this terminal word,
There was no lambing-night,
No gale-driven bird
Nor frost-encircled root
As cold every bit my heart.
Home is so distressing. It stays as it was left,
Shaped to the comfort of the last to go
Every bit if to win them dorsum. Instead, bereft
Of anyone to delight, information technology withers and so,
Having no centre to put aside the theft
And turn again to what information technology started as,
A joyous shot at how things ought to be,
Long fallen wide. You lot can run into how information technology was:
Look at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the piano stool. That vase.
Ted Hughes
Kafka
And he is an owl
He is an owl, "Homo" tattooed in his armpit
Under the broken wing
(Stunned by the wall of glare, he fell here)
Under the broken wing of huge shadow that twitches across the floor.
He is a man in hopeless feathers.
Brian Patten
A Talk with a Wood
Moving through y'all ane evening
when you offered shelter to
quiet things soaked in rain
I saw through your thinning branches
the beginnings of suburbs, and
frightened by the rain,
greyness hares running upright in
afar fields, and quite alone there
thought of nothing but my footprints
being filled, and love, distilled
of people, drifted free, and and then
the wood spoke with me.
William Butler Yeats
He Wishes for the Cloths of Sky
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver lite,
The blue and the dim and the nighttime cloths
Of night and light and the one-half-light,
I would spread the cloths nether your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
James Joyce
The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blueish,
The lamp fills with a pale light-green glow
The trees of the avenue.
The former pianoforte plays an air,
Sedate and wearisome and gay;
She bends upon the yellow keys,
Her caput inclines this manner.
Shy thoughts and grave wide eyes and easily
That wander as they list —
The twilight turns to darker blue
With lights of amethyst.
***
Simples
O bella bionda,
Sei come l'onda!
Of absurd sweetness dew and radiance mild
The moon a spider web of silence weaves
In the still garden where a child
Gathers the simple salad leaves.
A moondew stars her hanging hair
And moonlight kisses her young brow
And, gathering, she sings an air:
Off-white every bit the wave is, fair, fine art thou!
Be mine, I pray, a waxen ear
To shield me from her childish croon
And mine a shielded heart for her
Who gathers simples of the moon.
Walt Whitman
I dream'd in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the
whole of the rest of the globe,
I dream'd that was the new metropolis of Friends,
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love, information technology led
the rest,
Information technology was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that urban center,
And in all their looks and words.
Emily Dickinson
Which lead the seasons by,
Needs only to remember
That from y'all or I,
They may take the trifle
Termed bloodshed!
To invest existence with a stately air
Needs but to retrieve
That the acorn there
Is the egg of forests
For the upper air!
***
If I shouldn't be alive
When the Robins come,
Give the 1 in Cherry-red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.
If I couldn't give thanks you,
Existence fast comatose,
You lot will know I'one thousand trying
With my Granite lip!
***
I'g Nobody! Who are you lot?
Are you — Nobody — too?
And then in that location'due south a pair of usa!
Don't tell! They'd banish us — you know!
How dreary — to be — Somebody!
How public — like a Frog —
To tell your name — the livelong June —
To an admiring Bog!
***
Heart! We volition forget him!
You lot and I - tonight!
Yous may forget the
Warmth he gave -
I will forget the Calorie-free!
When you take done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while you're lagging
I may remember him!
This is my letter of the alphabet to the World
That never wrote to Me —
The simple News that Nature told —
With tender Majesty
Her Message is committed
To Hands I cannot see —
For dear of Her — Sugariness — countrymen —
Judge tenderly — of Me
***
If I can cease 1 Heart from breaking
shall not alive in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching
Or absurd one Hurting
Or aid one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest once more
I shall not alive in Vain.
***
I never saw a Moor —
I never saw the Bounding main —
Yet know I how the Heather looks
And what a Billow be.
I never spoke with God
Nor visited in Heaven —
Yet sure am I of the spot
As if the Checks were given —
Carl Sandburg
Limited
I am riding on a express express, one of the crack trains
of the nation.
Hurtling beyond the prairie into blueish haze and dark air get
fifteen all-steel coaches property a k people.
(All the coaches shall be flake and rust and all the men and
women laughing in the diners and sleepers shall pass to
ashes.)
I ask a man in the smoker where he is going and he answers:
"Omaha."
***
Prayers of Steel
Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Shell me and hammer me into a crowbar.
Let me pry loose old walls.
Let me lift and loosen old foundations.
Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Trounce me and hammer me into a steel fasten.
Drive me into the girders that hold a skyscraper together.
Take red-hot rivets and fasten me into the central girders.
Let me be the great smash belongings a skyscraper through blue
nights into white stars.
Robert Frost
The Pasture
I'1000 going out to make clean the pasture spring;
I'll just finish to rake the leaves away
(And await to lookout the water clear, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long. — You lot come up as well.
I'm going out to fetch the piddling calf
That'southward standing by the female parent. It'south so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long. — You come as well.
***
Fire and Ice
Some say the globe will end in burn down,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I concord with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for devastation ice
Is besides keen
And would suffice.
Walter Lowenfels
Message from Bert Brecht
And don't remember
art
is that actor over there
talking
to that other one
upstage
He'due south the third one
you don't run across
talking
to that other ane
you can't hear
offstage
Langston Hughes
Porter
I must say
Yes, sir,
To y'all all the time.
Yeah, sir!
Aye, sir!
All my days
Climbing up a great large mountain
Of yes, sirs!
Rich old white man
Owns the world
Gimme yo' shoes
To polish
Yeah, sir!
Edward Lear
In that location was an Erstwhile Man of Dumbree,
Who taught little Owls to beverage Tea;
For he said, "To consume mice
Is non proper or dainty,"
That affable Man of Dumbree.
***
There was on Old Human of the Isles,
Whose face was pervaded with smiles;
He sung high dum diddle,
And played on the fiddle,
That amiable Human of the Isles.
Lewis Carroll
There was an eccentric old draper,
Who wore a hat fabricated of brown newspaper,
It went upwardly to a indicate,
Withal it looked out of articulation,
The crusade of which he said was "vapour."
***
There was once a young man of Oporta,
Who daily got shorter and shorter,
The reason he said
Was the hod on his head,
Which was filled with the heaviest mortar.
His sister named Lucy O'Finner,
Grew constantly thinner and thinner,
The reason was apparently,
She slept out in the pelting,
And was never allowed any dinner.
John Donne
The Expiration
So, so, pause off this last lamenting buss,
Which sucks 2 souls, and vapors both away,
Plow thou ghost that way, and let me turn this,
And let our selves benight our happiest day,
We inquire none leave to love; nor will we owe
Whatsoever, so cheap a death, as saying, Go;
Become; and if that word have not quite kil'd thee,
Ease me with death, by bidding me go besides.
Oh, if it have, let my give-and-take work on me,
And a just office on a murderer do.
Except it exist besides late, to kill me and so,
Existence double dead, going, and bidding, get.
Maya Angelou
Passing Time
Your pare like dawn
Mine similar musk
I paints the outset
of a certain end.
The other, the end of a
certain beginning.
William Shakespeare
Sonnet 116. Allow me not to the matrimony of true minds
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments, dearest is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-stock-still marking
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his summit be taken.
Love'south not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Inside his bending sickle's compass come up,
Dear alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
Only bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man always loved.
Edgar Allan Poe
An Acrostic
Elizabeth information technology is in vain yous say
"Love not"—thou sayest it in then sweet a fashion:
In vain those words from thee or Fifty. E. 50.
Zantippe's talents had enforced then well:
Ah! if that language from thy heart arise,
Breathe it less gently forth—and veil thine eyes.
Endymion, remember, when Luna tried
To cure his honey—was cured of all beside—
His folly—pride—and passion—for he died.
William Blake
Epigram
You say their Pictures well Painted be,
And however they are Blockheads you lot all concur,
Give thanks God, I never was sent to School
To be Flogg'd into post-obit the Stile of a Fool.
The Errors of a Wise Human make your Rule
Rather than the Perfections of a Fool.
Eternity
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity'southward sun rising.
***
All pictures that'southward panted with sense and with thought
Are panted past madmen, every bit certain as a groat;
For the greater the fool is the pencil more blest,
Every bit when they are drunk they always pant best.
They never tin Raphael it, Fuseli information technology, nor Blake it;
If they can't see an outline, pray how can they make it?
When men will describe outlines begin you lot to jaw them;
Madmen meet outlines and therefore they draw them.
Wystan Hugh Auden
Epitaph on a Tyrant
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.
Thomas Stearns Eliot
The Boston Evening Transcript
The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript
Sway in the wind similar a field of ripe corn.
When evening quickens faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and band the bell, turning
Wearily, equally i would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at the end of the street,
And I say, "Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript."
Oscar Wilde
Theoretikos
This mighty empire hath only feet of clay:
Of all its ancient chivalry and might
Our little isle is forsake quite:
Some enemy hath stolen its crown of bay,
And from its hills that voice hath passed abroad
Which spake of Freedom: O come out of information technology,
Come out of it my Soul, k fine art not fit
For this vile traffic-house, where 24-hour interval by day
Wisdom and reverence are sold at mart,
And the rude people rage with ignorant cries
Against an heritage of centuries.
Information technology mars my at-home: wherefore in dreams of Art
And loftiest civilization I would stand up apart,
Neither for God, nor for his enemies.
Source: https://md-eksperiment.org/post/20210120-short-poems-in-english
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