Car poems
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Senlin: His Dark Origins
© Conrad Aiken
He lights his pipe with a pointed flame.
'Yet, there were many autumns before I came,
And many springs. And more will come, long after
There is no horn for me, or song, or laughter.
Nocturne Of Remembered Spring
© Conrad Aiken
I. Moonlight silvers the tops of trees,
Moonlight whitens the lilac shadowed wall
And through the evening fall,
Clearly, as if through enchanted seas,
The Last Blossom
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THOUGH young no more, we still would dream
Of beauty's dear deluding wiles;
The leagues of life to graybeards seem
Shorter than boyhood's lingering miles.
Improvisations: Light And Snow
© Conrad Aiken
How many times have I sat here,
How many times will I sit here again,
Thinking these same things over and over in solitude
As a child says over and over
The first word he has learned to say.
A Letter From Li Po
© Conrad Aiken
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind
announces autumn, and the equinox
rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon.
Somewhere beyond the Gorge Li Po is gone,
La Liberte
© André Marie de Chénier
Tu te plais mieux sans doute au bois, à la prairie;
Tu le peux. Assieds-toi parmi l'herbe fleurie:
Moi, sous un antre aride, en cet affreux séjour,
Je me plais sur le roc à voir passer le jour.
The Ballade Of The Glutton
© Norman Rowland Gale
O Redcoats of England, who struggle and dare,
Your glory's a morsel no glutton can please;
My yearning is all for a soft-cushioned chair,
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas.
Des limites
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
De petits morceaux de verre
dans la chambre vide
des murmures incompréhensibles,
causent du sang
The Hunter's Serenade
© William Cullen Bryant
Thy bower is finished, fairest!
Fit bower for hunter's bride--
Limits
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
Fragments of glasses
in the empty room
of the inarticulate whispers,
bleed
Denials
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
A roar of cars
seals the dawn
with short-cut answers,
with unyielding denials
The Stranger
© John Clare
When trouble haunts me, need I sigh?
No, rather smile away despair;
For those have been more sad than I,
With burthens more than I could bear;
Aye, gone rejoicing under care
Where I had sunk in black despair.
The Enthusiast, or the Lover of Nature
© Joseph Warton
Ye green-rob'd Dryads, oft' at dusky Eve
By wondering Shepherds seen, to Forests brown,
Grandad And A Pramload Of Clocks
© John Lindley
Wheeling them in,
the yard gate at half-mast
with its ticking hinge,
the tin bucket with a hairnet of webs,
The Song And The Sigh
© Henry Lawson
The creek went down with a broken song,
'Neath the sheoaks high;
The waters carried the song along,
And the oaks a sigh.
While Summer Suns O'er the Gay Prospect Play'd
© Thomas Warton
While summer suns o'er the gay prospect play'd,
Through Surrey's verdant scenes, where Epsom spread
'Mid intermingling elms her flowery meads,
And Hascombe's hill, in towering groves array'd,
