Women poems
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A Letter From A Stupid Woman
© Nizar Qabbani
Don't become annoyed, my dear Master,
If I revealed to you my feelings
For the Eastern man
Is not concerned with poetry or feelings
The Eastern man - and forgive my insolence - does not understand women
but over the sheets.
Paradise Lost: Book IV
© Patrick Kavanagh
"Which of those rebel Spirits adjudg'd to Hell
Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison? and, transform'd,
Why satt'st thou like an enemy in wait,
Here watching at the head of these that sleep?"
Elegy for a Soldier
© Marilyn Hacker
You, who stood alone in the tall bay window
of a Brooklyn brownstone, conjuring morning
with free-flying words, knew the power, terror
in words, in flying;
Don Juan Aux Enfers (Don Juan In Hell)
© Charles Baudelaire
Quand Don Juan descendit vers l'onde souterraine
Et lorsqu'il eut donné son obole à Charon,
Un sombre mendiant, l'oeil fier comme Antisthène,
D'un bras vengeur et fort saisit chaque aviron.
Ancestor
© James Russell Lowell
It was a time when they were afraid of him.
My father, a bare man, a gypsy, a horse
Rich And Poor
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Neath the radiance faint of the starlit sky
The gleaming snow-drifts lay wide and high;
Oer hill and dell stretched a mantle white,
The branches glittered with crystal bright;
But the winter winds keen icy breath
Was merciless, numbing and chill as death.
Fears In Solitude. Written In April, 1798, During The Alarm Of An Invasion
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A green and silent spot, amid the hills,
A small and silent dell! O'er stiller place
No singing sky-lark ever poised himself.
The hills are heathy, save that swelling slope,
Emmy
© Arthur Symons
Emmy's exquisite youth and her virginal air,
Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile,
Come to me out of the past, and I see her there
As I saw her once for a while.
The Bridge of Change
© John Logan
The bridge barely curved that connects the terrible with the tender.
—Rilke
Medea in Athens
© Augusta Davies Webster
Dimly I recall
some prophecy a god breathed by my mouth.
It could not err. What was it? For I think;-
it told his death¹.
Emergency Haying
© Hayden Carruth
Coming home with the last load I ride standing
on the wagon tongue, behind the tractor
in hot exhaust, lank with sweat,
A Sonnet, To His Mother As A New Year's Gift From Cambridge
© George Herbert
My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee,
Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn,
In These Soft Trinities
© Patricia Goedicke
In an aura of charged air I remember
my poor mother turned into royalty,
my sister and me in bobby socks
Passion for Solitude
© Cesare Pavese
The night doesn’t matter. The square patch of sky
whispers all the loud noises to me, and a small star
struggles in emptiness, far from all foods,
from all houses, alien. It isn’t enough for itself,
it needs too many companions. Here in the dark, alone,
my body is calm, it feels it’s in charge.
A Man Young And Old: VI. His Memories
© William Butler Yeats
We should be hidden from their eyes,
Being but holy shows
And bodies broken like a thorn
Whereon the bleak north blows,
To think of buried Hector
And that none living knows.
Exultation
© Emma Lazarus
BEHOLD, I walked abroad at early morning,
The fields of June were bathed in dew and lustre,
The hills were clad with light as with a garment.
