A Translation

Related poetry:

1. The Truth About hHorace It is very aggravating To hear the solemn prating Of the fossils who are stating That old Horace was a prude; When we know that with the ladies He was always raising Hades, And with many an escapade his Best productions are imbued. There’s really not much harm in a Large number of his carmina, […]...
2. Horace and Lydia Reconciled HORACE When you were mine in auld lang syne, And when none else your charms might ogle, I’ll not deny, Fair nymph, that I Was happier than a Persian mogul. LYDIA Before she came that rival flame! (Was ever female creature sillier?) In those good times, Bepraised in rhymes, I was more famed than Mother […]...
3. Translation From the Gull Language ‘Twas grav’d on the Stone of Destiny, In letters four, and letters three; And ne’er did the King of the Gulls go by But those awful letters scar’d his eye; For he knew that a Prophet Voice had said “As long as those words by man were read, The ancient race of the Gulls should […]...
4. Winter Night It snowed and snowed, the whole world over, Snow swept the world from end to end. A candle burned on the table; A candle burned. As during summer midges swarm To beat their wings against a flame Out in the yard the snowflakes swarmed To beat against the window pane The blizzard sculptured on the […]...
5. The Fabulists When all the world would keep a matter hid, Since Truth is seldom Friend to any crowd, Men write in Fable, as old AEsop did, Jesting at that which none will name aloud. And this they needs must do, or it will fall Unless they please they are not heard at all. When desperate Folly […]...
6. The IX Ode to Horace HORACE. While I was pleasing to your arms, Nor any youth, of happier charms, Thy snowy bosom blissful prest, Not Portia’s like me was blest. LYDIA. While for no other fair you burn’d, Nor Lydia was for Chloe scorn’d What maid was then so blest as thine? Not [xx’s] flame could equal mine. HORACE. Me […]...
7. The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour The happiest day – the happiest hour My sear’d and blighted heart hath known, The highest hope of pride and power, I feel hath flown. Of power! said I? yes! such I ween; But they have vanish’d long, alas! The visions of my youth have been- But let them pass. And, pride, what have I […]...
8. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
9. To His Worthy Friend Doctor Witty Upon His Translation Of The Popular Errors Sit further, and make room for thine own fame, Where just desert enrolles thy honour’d Name The good Interpreter. Some in this task Take of the Cypress vail, but leave a mask, Changing the Latine, but do more obscure That sence in English which was bright and pure. So of Translators they are Authors grown, […]...
10. A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada Now the declining sun ‘gan downwards bend From higher heavens, and from his locks did send A milder flame, when near to Tiber’s flow A lutinist allay’d his careful woe With sounding charms, and in a greeny seat Of shady oake took shelter from the heat. A Nightingale oreheard him, that did use To sojourn […]...
11. Sir Richard's Song (A. D. 1066) I followed my Duke ere I was a lover, To take from England fief and fee; But now this game is the other way over But now England hath taken me! I had my horse, my shield and banner, And a boy’s heart, so whole and free; But now I sing in […]...
12. Hymn To Eros O Eros, silently smiling one, hear me. Let the shadow of thy wings Brush me. Let thy presence Enfold me, as if darkness Were swandown. Let me see that darkness Lamp in hand, This country become The other country Sacred to desire. Drowsy god, Slow the wheels of my thought So that I listen only […]...
13. Even-song Blest be the God of love, Who gave me eyes, and light, and power this day, Both to be busy, and to play. But much more blest be God above, Who gave me sight alone, Which to himself he did deny: For when he sees my ways, I die: But I have got his son, […]...
14. Venus' Runaway Beauties, have ye seen this toy, Called Love, a little boy, Almost naked, wanton, blind; Cruel now, and then as kind? If he be amongst ye, say? He is Venus’ runaway. She that will but now discover Where the winged wag doth hover, Shall to-night receive a kiss, How or where herself would wish: But […]...
15. The Missal Makers To visit the Escurial We took a motor bus, And there a guide mercurial Took charge of us. He showed us through room after room, And talked hour after hour, Of place, crypt and royal tomb, Of pomp and power. But in bewilderment of grace What pleased me most of all Were ancient missals proud […]...
16. SONG OF FELLOWSHIP [Written and sung in honour of the birthday Of the Pastor Ewald at the time of Goethe’s happy connection with Lily.] IN ev’ry hour of joy That love and wine prolong, The moments we’ll employ To carol forth this song! We’re gathered in His name, Whose power hath brought us here; He kindled first our […]...
17. Poet's Path My garden hath a slender path With ivy overgrown, A secret place where once would pace A pot all alone; I see him now with fretted brow, Plunged deep in thought; And sometimes he would write maybe, And sometimes he would not. A verse a day he used to say Keeps worry from the door; […]...
18. Last Love The first flower of the spring is not so fair Or bright, as one the ripe midsummer brings. The first faint note the forest warbler sings Is not as rich with feeling, or so rare As when, full master of his art, the air Drowns in the liquid sea of song he flings Like silver […]...
19. Aperotos Eros Strong as death, and cruel as the grave, Clothed with cloud and tempest’s blackening breath, Known of death’s dread self, whom none outbrave, Strong as death, Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath, Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave, Burns above a world that groans beneath. Hath not pity power on thee to save, Love? […]...
20. A Woman's Voice HIS head within my bosom lay, But yet his spirit slipped not through: I only felt the burning clay That withered for the cooling dew. It was but pity when I spoke And called him to my heart for rest, And half a mother’s love that woke Feeling his head upon my breast: And half […]...
21. I see the Four-fold Man I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep And its fallen Emanation, the Spectre and its cruel Shadow. I see the Past, Present and Future existing all at once Before me. O Divine Spirit, sustain me on thy wings, That I may awake Albion from his long and cold repose; For Bacon and […]...
22. WHEN THE FOX DIES, HIS SKIN COUNTS.* (* The name of a game, known in English as “Jack’s Alight.”) WE young people in the shade Sat one sultry day; Cupid came, and “Dies the Fox” With us sought to play. Each one of my friends then sat By his mistress dear; Cupid, blowing out the torch, Said: “The taper’s here!” Then we […]...
23. Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth, That having such a scope to show her pride, The argument all bare is of more worth Than when it hath my added praise beside. O, blame me not if I no more can write! Look in your glass, and there appears a face That overgoes my blunt […]...
24. The Dove of Dacca 1892 The freed dove flew to the Rajah’s tower Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings And the thorns have covered the city of Guar. Dove dove oh, homing dove! Little white traitor, with woe on thy wings! The Rajah of Dacca rode under the wall; He set in his bosom a dove of flight […]...
25. To a Child of Quality, Five Years Old, 1704. The Author then Forty LORDS, knights, and squires, the numerous band That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fetters, Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their letters. My pen amongst the rest I took, Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, Should dart their kindling fire, and look The power they have to be obey’d. […]...
26. Tragedy A MAN went forth one day at eve: The long day’s toil for him was done: The eye that scanned the page could leave Its task until tomorrow’s sun. Upon the threshold where he stood Flared on his tired eyes the sight, Where host on host the multitude Burned fiercely in the dusky night. The […]...
27. A Summer Night HER mist of primroses within her breast Twilight hath folded up, and o’er the west, Seeking remoter valleys long hath gone, Not yet hath come her sister of the dawn. Silence and coolness now the earth enfold, Jewels of glittering green, long mists of gold, Hazes of nebulous silver veil the height, And shake in […]...
28. When, Dearest, I But Think of Thee When, dearest I but think of thee, Methinks all things that lovely be Are present, and my soul delighted: For beauties that from worth arise Are like the grace of deities, Still present with us, tho’ unsighted. Thus while I sit and sigh the day With all his borrow’d lights away, Till night’s black wings […]...
29. Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ‘Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, […]...
30. Midnight On The Great Western In the third-class seat sat the journeying boy, And the roof-lamp’s oily flame Played down on his listless form and face, Bewrapt past knowing to what he was going, Or whence he came. In the band of his hat the journeying boy Had a ticket stuck; and a string Around his neck bore the key […]...
31. TO THE COUNTESS GRANVILLE MY DEAR LADY GRANVILLE, THE reluctance which must naturally be felt by any one in Venturing to give to the world a book such as the present, where The beauties of the great original must inevitably be diminished, If not destroyed, in the process of passing through the Translator’s hands, cannot but be felt in […]...
32. Weep On, Weep On Weep on, weep on, your hour is past, Your dreams of pride are o’er; The fatal chain is round you cast, And you are men no more. In vain the hero’s heart hath bled; The sage’s tongue hath warn’d in vain; Oh, Freedom! once thy flame hath fled, It never lights again! Weep on perhaps […]...
33. Pineapples And Pomegranates To think that, as a boy of thirteen, I would grapple With my first pineapple, Its exposed breast Setting itself as another test Of my will-power, knowing in my bones That it stood for something other than itself alone While having absolutely no sense Of its being a world-wide symbol of munificence. Munificence-right? Not munitions, […]...
34. John Ericsson Day Memorial, 1918 INTO the gulf and the pit of the dark night, the cold night, there is a man goes into the dark and the cold and when he comes back to his people he brings fire in his hands and they remember him in the years afterward as the fire bringer-they remember or forget-the man whose […]...
35. There Was A Time, I Need Not Name There was a time, I need not name, Since it will ne’er forgotten be, When all our feelings were the same As still my soul hath been to thee. And from that hour when first thy tongue Confess’d a love which equall’d mine, Though many a grief my heart hath wrung, Unknown, and thus unfelt, […]...
36. Psalm XLVI: God Is the Refuge God is the refuge of his saints, When storms of sharp distress invade; Ere we can offer our complaints, Behold him present with his aid! Let mountains from their seats be hurled Down to the deep, and buried there, Convulsions shake the solid world, Our faith shall never yield to fear. Loud may the troubled […]...
37. Baccalaureate A year or two, and grey Euripides, And Horace and a Lydia or so, And Euclid and the brush of Angelo, Darwin on man, Vergilius on bees, The nose and Dialogues of Socrates, Don Quixote, Hudibras and Trinculo, How worlds are spawned and where the dead gods go, All shall be shard of broken memories. […]...
38. Psalm XXXVI: High in the Heav'ns High in the heav’ns, eternal God, Thy goodness in full glory shines; Thy truth shall break through ev’ry cloud That veils and darkens thy designs. For ever firm thy justice stands, As mountains their foundations keep; Wise are the wonders of thy hands; Thy judgments are a mighty deep. Thy providence is kind and large, […]...
39. The Mantra-Yoga I How should I seek to make a song for thee When all my music is to moan thy name? That long sad monotone – the same – the same – Matching the mute insatiable sea That throbs with life’s bewitching agony, Too long to measure and too fierce to tame! An hurtful joy, a […]...
40. Lively Hope and Gracious Fear I was a grovelling creature once, And basely cleaved to earth: I wanted spirit to renounce The clod that gave me birth. But God hath breathed upon a worm, And sent me from above Wings such as clothe an angel’s form, The wings of joy and love. With these to Pisgah’s top I fly And […]...