Poems begining by D
/ page 79 of 94 /Don't know about the people
© Kobayashi Issa
Don't know about the people,
but all the scarecrows
are crooked.
Dohas II (with translation)
© Kabir
Jab Tun Aaya Jagat Mein, Log Hanse Tu Roye
Aise Karni Na Kari, Pache Hanse Sab Koye
[When you were born in this world
Everyone laughed while you cried
Dream Song 265: I don't know one damned butterfly from another
© John Berryman
I don't know one damned butterfly from another
my ignorance of the stars is formidable,
also of dogs & ferns
except that around my house one destroys the other
When I reckon up my real ignorance, pal,
I mumble "many returns"-
Dove in the Arch
© Robert Desnos
Cursed!
be the father of the bride
of the blacksmith who forged the iron for the axe
with which the woodsman hacked down the oak
Departure
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
It was not like your great and gracious ways!
Do you, that have naught other to lament,
Never, my Love, repent
Of how, that July afternoon,
Deliciae Sapientiae de Amore
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Love, light for me
Thy ruddiest blazing torch,
That I, albeit a beggar by the Porch
Of the glad Palace of Virginity,
Doubt
© Helen Hunt Jackson
1 They bade me cast the thing away,
2 They pointed to my hands all bleeding,
3 They listened not to all my pleading;
4 The thing I meant I could not say;
5 I knew that I should rue the day
6 If once I cast that thing away.
Death
© Helen Hunt Jackson
My body, eh? Friend Death, how now?
Why all this tedious pomp of writ?
Thou hast reclaimed it sure and slow
For half a century bit by bit.
Danger
© Helen Hunt Jackson
With what a childish and short-sighted sense
Fear seeks for safety; recons up the days
Of danger and escape, the hours and ways
Of death; it breathless flies the pestilence;
Detroit Grease Shop Poem
© Philip Levine
Four bright steel crosses,
universal joints, plucked
out of the burlap sack --
"the heart of the drive train,"
Datur Hora Quieti
© Sir Walter Scott
The sun upon the lake is low,
The wild birds hush their song,
The hills have evening's deepest glow,
Yet Leonard tarries long.
Dartside, 1849
© Charles Kingsley
I cannot tell what you say green leaves,
I cannot tell what you say :
But I know that there is a spirit in you,
And a word in you this day.
Drink To Her
© Thomas Moore
Drink to her who long
Hath waked the poet's sigh,
The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
Drink of This Cup
© Thomas Moore
Drink of this cup; -- you'll find there's a spell in
Its every drop 'gainst the ills of mortality;
Talk of the cordial that sparkled for Helen;
Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality.
Did Not
© Thomas Moore
'Twas a new feeling - something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.
Dialogue Between a Sovereign and a One-Pound Note
© Thomas Moore
Said a Sov'reign to a Note,
In the pocket of my coat,
Where they met in a neat purse of leather,
"How happens it, I prithee,
That though I'm wedded with thee,
Fair Pound, we can never live together?
Desmond's Song
© Thomas Moore
By the Feal's wave benighted,
No star in the skies,
To thy door by Love lighted,
I first saw those eyes.
Dear Harp of my Country
© Thomas Moore
Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee,
The cold chain of Silence had hung o'er thee long.
When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee,
And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song.