W.H. Auden–If I Could Tell You

Whatever you do, good or bad, people will alwa...

W.H. Auden–If I Could Tell You

Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose all the lions get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.

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Leigh Hunt–Jenny Kissed Me

Leigh Hunt (1784-1859), an English essayist an...

Leigh Hunt (1784-1859), (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jenny kissed me
when we met
Jumping from the chair
she sat in.

Time, you thief,
who love to get
Sweets into your list,
put that in.

Say I’m weary,
say I’m sad;
Say that health and wealth
have missed me;
Say I’m growing old,
but add –
Jenny kissed me!

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Edna St. Vincent Millay–God’s World

Scarlet Maple against a grey sky

 (Photo credit: Quiltsalad)

God’s World

O WORLD, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour!  That gaunt crag
To crush!  To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!

Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart,—Lord, I do fear
Thou’st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me,—let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.

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Victor Hugo–Nuits de juin

Nuits de juin

L’été, lorsque le jour a fui, de fleurs couverte
La plaine verse au loin un parfum enivrant ;
Les yeux fermés, l’oreille aux rumeurs entrouverte,
On ne dort qu’à demi d’un sommeil transparent.
Les astres sont plus purs, l’ombre paraît meilleure ;
Un vague demi-jour teint le dôme éternel ;
Et l’aube douce et pâle, en attendant son heure,
Semble toute la nuit errer au bas du ciel.

JUNE NIGHTS

In summer, when the daylight’s gone, the fields,
Covered with blossoms, scent the air for miles around.
We sleep, but in a half-sleep of transparent dreams,
Eyes shut, ears half-opened to the summer’s sound.

Pure are the stars, then;  and the dark is sweet;
A faint half daylight stains the eternal dome,
And gentle dawn, waiting for her hour to come,
All night below the sky’s edge seems to roam.

Amazon.co

Starlit monument.

(Photo credit: iamastar2)

m Widgets

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D.H. Lawrence – Lies About Love

Leaves, flower and buds of Nymphaea nouchali ....

(Photo credit: Vietnam Plants & America plants)

Enhanced by ZemantaD.H. Lawrence – Lies About Love

We are all liars, because
the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow,
whereas letters are fixed,
and we live by the letter of truth.
The love I feel for my friend, this year,
is different from the love I felt last year.
If it were not so, it would be a lie.
Yet we reiterate love! love! love!
as if it were a coin with a fixed value
instead of a flower that dies, and opens a different bud.

Percy Bysshe Shelley–Invocation

Leaping Lizards!

(Photo credit: peasap)

 

Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
‘Tis since thou art fled away.

 

How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.

 

As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismayed;
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not hear.

 

Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure;
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure; –
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.

 

I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dressed,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.

 

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Андрей Вознесенский–Первый лед

phone booths

(Photo credit: greenchartreuse)

Андрей Вознесенский

Первый лед

Мерзнет девочка в автомате,
Прячет в зябкое пальтецо
Все в слезах и губной помаде
Перемазанное лицо.

Дышит  в худенькие ладошки.
Пальцы—льдышки.   В ушах—сережки.

Ей обратно одной, одной
Вдоль по улочке ледяной,

Первый лед. Это в первый раз.
Первый лед телефонных фраз.

Мерзлый след на щеках блестит —
Первый лед от людских обид.

1959
FIRST FROST

A girl is freezing in a telephone booth,
huddled in her flimsy coat,
her face stained by tears
and smeared with lipstick.

She breathes on her thin little fingers.
Fingers like ice.  Glass beads in her ears.

She has to beat her way back alone
down the icy street.

First frost.  A beginning of losses.
The first frost of telephone phrases.

It is the start of winter glittering on her cheek,
the first frost of having been hurt.

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Theodore Roethke- The Waking | POLYARCHIVE

Ruins of Detroit

The Waking
Theodore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those close beside me, which are you?
God bless the ground! I shall walk softly there.
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up the winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

 

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Robert Frost in Russian

Grant riding in the snow

(Photo credit: theqspeaks)

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
And miles to go before I sleep.
ОСТАНОВИВШИСЬ НА ОПУШКЕ В СНЕЖНЫХ СУМЕРКАХ

Чей это лес — я угадал
Тотчас, лишь только увидал
Над озером заросший склон,
Где снег на ветви оседал.

Мой конь, заминкой удивлен,
Как будто стряхивая сон,
Глядит — ни дома, ни огня,
Тьма да метель со всех сторон.

В дорогу он зовет меня.
Торопит, бубенцом звеня.
В ответ — лишь ветра шепоток
Да мягких хлопьев толкотня.

Лес чуден, темен и глубок.
Но должен я вернуться в срок;
И до ночлега путь далек,
И до ночлега путь далек.

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dorothy parker–now at liberty

American writer Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)

American writer Dorothy Parker (1893-1967) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dorothy Parker – Now at Liberty

Little white love, your way you’ve taken;
Now I am left alone, alone.
Little white love, my heart’s forsaken.
(Whom shall I get by telephone?)
Well do I know there’s no returning;
Once you go out, it’s done, it’s done.
All of my days are gray with yearning.
(Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.)

Little white love, perplexed and weary,
Sadly your banner fluttered down.
Sullen the days, and dreary, dreary.
(Which of the boys is still in town?)
Radiant and sure, you came a-flying;
Puzzled, you left on lagging feet.
Slow in my breast, my heart is dying.
(Nevertheless, a girl must eat.)

Little white love, I hailed you gladly;
Now I must wave you out of sight.
Ah, but you used me badly, badly.
(Who’d like to take me out tonight?)
All of the blundering words I’ve spoken,
Little white love, forgive, forgive.
Once you went out, my heart fell, broken.
(Nevertheless, a girl must live.)

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