All Poems
/ page 2581 of 3210 /Nod
© Walter de la Mare
Softly along the road of evening,
In a twilight dim with rose,
Wrinkled with age, and drenched with dew
Old Nod, the shepherd, goes.
Vêtements monolectiques
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
Des vagues daccents circonflexes,
une mer fâchée dadverbes,
des moulins de verbes,
des coquillages de points de suspensions,
Les «non» et les «zéro»
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
La nuit
qui a suicidé
les moments infinis
que je voudrais vivre,
Des règles et des rêves
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
La vie compte
les règles,
le couche du soleil
leurs exceptions.
The Waving of the Red
© Henry Lawson
It is a sad and cruel fate the countrys coming to,
And theres no use in striking, so what are we to do?
I know what we could do, but then, there might be traitors near,
And things are running in my head that only mates should hear!
The world cannot go on like this, in spite of all thats said,
And millions now are waiting for the Waving of the Red.
Of The Dangers Attending Altruism On The High Seas.
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Observe these Pirates bold and gay,
That sail a gory sea:
Notice their bright expression:--
The handsome one is me.
The Works of God
© George Sandys
Great God! how manifold, how infinite
Are all Thy works! with what a clear foresight
Les idéaux
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
Des montagnes enneigées,
des monuments anciens,
le nord qui nous signe,
la pensée qui coule,
The Harp Of The Minstrel
© James Whitcomb Riley
The harp of the minstrel has never a tone
As sad as the song in his bosom to-night,
To the dead poet of obscurity
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
(In honor of the dead unpublished poet)Well done!
You have won!
You should not feel sorry.
Your unpublished poems
The Hunter's Serenade
© William Cullen Bryant
Thy bower is finished, fairest!
Fit bower for hunter's bride--
Maybe
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
The cloud struggled
against the sand
underneath the rain
of no and yes,
A Poem For Children With Thoughts On Death
© Jupiter Hammon
O ye young and thoughtless youth,
Come seek the living God,
The scriptures are a sacred truth,
Ye must believe the word.
Limits
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
Fragments of glasses
in the empty room
of the inarticulate whispers,
bleed
The Two April Mornings
© William Wordsworth
We walked along, while bright and red
Uprose the morning sun;
And Matthew stopped, he looked, and said
`The will of God be done!'