Strews roses on our way,When shall we stop to pick them up?Today, my love, today!But should she frown with face of careAnd speak of coming sorrow,When shall we grieve, if grieve we must?Tomorrow, love, tomorrow!
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine,There sleeps Titania, sometime of the night,Lulled in those flowers with dances and delight.And there the snake rolls his enamelled skin,Full wide enough to wrap a fairy in.Those cowslips tall her pensioners be;In their gold coats spots you see,...
翻译| 阿尔吉农·查尔斯·斯温伯恩:死亡的歌谣 死亡的歌谣跪下吧,亲爱的,用泪水充盈自己,用叹息作为腰带环绕在欢乐的边缘,遮住你的嘴唇和眼睑,让你的耳朵充满人们悲伤的谣言;用编织的叹息制作柔软的衣裳紧贴肉体,在其中设置痛苦和许多悲伤的事物,为每种悲伤配上臂环、颈甲和袖子。哦,死亡之地传来的爱的鲁特琴声,...
Here are my favorite poems about angels categorized: Poems about angels among us Poems about angels in heaven Poems about angels and demons Poems about angels and love Poems about angels at christmas Poems about angels and death So if you want the best poems about angels, then you’re in th...
to this day they persist to embrace life and death even if the wheel of fortune always returns to suffering. Only the wind forever blows and tugs, as if to pull up the trees, including their ankles, heels, and hidden root hair. Translated by Meifu Wang & Michael Soper 荒山古寺 王志国 ...
Poems about Christmas Poems about Easter Poems about Illness / Death Poems about Graduation Poems about Halloween Here are some of our favorites across the board and please search the tags down the left hand side that open up this world of many poems and our friendship. ...
And wild roses everywhere The shore hangs into the lake, O gracious swans, ... Read Poem 4. Bread And Wine Round about the city rests. The illuminated streets grow Quiet, and coaches rush along, adorned with torches. Men go home to rest, filled with the day's pleasures; ...
Structure:Can be as long as the poet wants, and is mostly commonly written in couplets or quatrains, but it’s the poet’s choice as long as it’s about death/mourning/etc. Meter:Iambic pentameter (usually). Rhyme scheme:Typically ABBA or ABAB, but not strictly. ...
Unjealous, you let me touch the flower, Crouched kissing as if I were its lover, Which I am, being in the power Of all small pink roses everywhere living. The collection ends with a quartet of poems about the death of Dr. Crile and Miss Sandburg's adjustments to widowhood....
And many a dancing April when life is done with me, will lift the blue flame of the flower and the white flame of the tree Oh burn me with your beauty then, oh hurt me tree and flower, lest in the end death try to take even this glistening hour..." - Sara Teasdale, Blue Squil...