Love poems
/ page 1085 of 1285 /Fortune Of War
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
NOUGHT more accursed in war I know
Than getting off scot-free;
Parable Of The Dove
© Louise Gluck
A dove lived in a village.
When it opened its mouth
sweetness came out, sound
like a silver light around
the cherry bough. But
the dove wasn't satisfied.
Siren
© Louise Gluck
I didn't want to go to Chicago with you.
I wanted to marry you, I wanted
Your wife to suffer.
He Wonders Whether To Praise Or To Blame Her
© Rupert Brooke
I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over,
But if to praise or blame you, cannot say.
For, who decries the loved, decries the lover;
Yet what man lauds the thing he's thrown away?
The Triumph Of Achilles
© Louise Gluck
In the story of Patroclus
no one survives, not even Achilles
who was nearly a god.
Patroclus resembled him; they wore
the same armor.
All Souls
© Katharine Tynan
THERE'S traffic in the worlds immortal,
For many souls are flying home,
Striving and pushing at the portal
For sight of glorious things to come.
Science
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Alone I climb the steep ascending path
Which leads to knowledge. In the babbling throngs
Before The Tomb
© Madison Julius Cawein
The way went under cedared gloom
To moonlight, like a cactus bloom,
Before the entrance of her tomb.
The Chameleon
© Matthew Prior
But if at first he minds his hits,
And drinks Champaigne among the wits,
Five deep he toasts the towering lasses,
Repeats yon verse wrote on glasses:
Is in the chair, prescribes the law,
And lies with those he never saw.
Lullaby
© Louise Gluck
My mother's an expert in one thing:
sending people she loves into the other world.
The little ones, the babies--these
she rocks, whispering or singing quietly. I can't say
what she did for my father;
whatever it was, I'm sure it was right.
Channing
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Not vainly did old poets tell,
Nor vainly did old genius paint
God's great and crowning miracle,
The hero and the saint!
Saints
© Louise Gluck
In our family, there were two saints,
my aunt and my grandmother.
But their lives were different.
Love Poem
© Louise Gluck
There is always something to be made of pain.
Your mother knits.
She turns out scarves in every shade of red.
They were for Christmas, and they kept you warm
First Memory
© Louise Gluck
Long ago, I was wounded. I lived
to revenge myself
against my father, not
for what he was--
Inferno Canto02
© Dante Alighieri
Lo giorno se n'andava, e l'aere bruno
toglieva li animai che sono in terra
da le fatiche loro; e io sol uno
Inferno Canto 01
© Dante Alighieri
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ch? la diritta via era smarrita .
Inferno Canto03
© Dante Alighieri
Per me si va ne la citt? dolente,
per me si va ne l'etterno dolore,
per me si va tra la perduta gente .
There is a Gentle Thought
© Dante Alighieri
There is a gentle thought that often springs
to life in me, because it speaks of you.
Its reasoning about loves so sweet and true,
the heart is conquered, and accepts these things.
Sestina
© Dante Alighieri
I have come, alas, to the great circle of shadow,
to the short day and to the whitening hills,
when the colour is all lost from the grass,
though my desire will not lose its green,
so rooted is it in this hardest stone,
that speaks and feels as though it were a woman.
Love and the Gentle Heart
© Dante Alighieri
Love and the gentle heart are one thing,
just as the poet says in his verse,
each from the other one as well divorced
as reason from the minds reasoning.