CLASSIC POETRY

Un perro ha muerto / A dog has died

                    Un perro ha muerto   Mi perro ha muerto. Lo enterré en el jardín junto a una vieja máquina oxidada. Allí, no más abajo, ni más arriba, se juntará conmigo alguna vez. Ahora él ya se fue con su pelaje, su mala educación, su nariz iría. Y yo, materialista que no cree en el celeste cielo prometido para ningún humano, para este perro...Read More »

---

Ratacind cu luna

                    Ratacind cu luna E-aşa frumos să rătăceşti o noapte, cu luna, ca o amforă, pe umăr, să simţi, asemeni fructelor prea coapte, cum cad în tine gînduri fără număr. Se-ntinde caldarîmul ca o apă, ademenind molatecă piciorul, şi casele-şi răsfaţă larg pridvorul, în care luna n-a putut să-ncapă, şi-a curs – argint şi miere – prin grădină… Splendoarea ei poate-a...Read More »

---

The Wild Flower's Song

                    The Wild Flower’s Song   As I wander’d the forest, The green leaves among, I heard a wild flower Singing a song. I slept in the Earth In the silent night, I murmur’d my fears And I felt delight. In the morning I went As rosy as morn, To seek for new joy; But O! met with scorn.   William Blake ...Read More »

---

Time and Eternity

                    Time and Eternity I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You ’ll know it by the row of stars Around its forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; Yet to my frugal eye Of more esteem than ducats. Oh, find it, sir, for me! Emily Dickinson ...Read More »

---

Io guardo per li prati ogni

                    Io guardo per li prati ogni   Io guardo per li prati ogni fior bianco, per rimembranza di quel che mi face sì vago di sospir ch’io ne chieggo anco. E’ mi rimembra de la bianca parte che fa col verdebrun la bella taglia, la qual vestio Amore nel tempo che, guardando Vener Marte, con quell sua saetta che...Read More »

---

Florile culese

                  Florile culese Florile culese în pahare plâng Si visând la fluturi, la livezi cu soare Florile culese în pahare mor. Tristele potire picura-asa jalnic Pete de lumina. Lunca toata crede ca sunt doar petale. Numai eu stiu însa ca sunt lacrimi grele, Sfarmaturi de suflet. Un bondar le-aduce vesti de la surori. Creste nostalgia vestedelor flori. Florile culese, florile de câmp Mor...Read More »

---

One crucifixion is recorded

                      One crucifixion is recorded One Crucifixion is recorded—only— How many be Is not affirmed of Mathematics— Or History— One Calvary—exhibited to Stranger— As many be As persons—or Peninsulas— Gethsemane— Is but a Province—in the Being’s Centre— Judea— For Journey—or Crusade’s Achieving— Too near— Our Lord—indeed—made Compound Witness— And yet— There’s newer—nearer Crucifixion Than That— Emily Dickinson ...Read More »

---

XVII

                    XVII Lady, i will touch you with my mind. Touch you and touch and touch until you give me suddenly a smile,shyly obscene (lady i will touch you with my mind.)Touch you,that is all, lightly and you utterly will become with infinite care the poem which i do not write. e. e. cummings   ...Read More »

---

To see her is a Picture

                    To see her is a Picture To see her is a Picture – To hear her is a Tune – To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June – To know her not – Affliction – To own her for a Friend A warmth as near as if the Sun Were shining in your Hand –     Emily Dickinson ...Read More »

---

When You Are Old

                    When You Are Old When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false...Read More »

---