Turn Turn Again Wind and the Rain

We present to your attention a selection of breviloquent poems by famous English and American poets. The poems will open up the world of nice, tender feelings and philosophical outlook on life, bright cheerful jokes and witty English humor to you. Short poems are easy to read and memorize.

George Gordon Byron

Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star!
Whose tearful axle glows tremulously far,
That show'st the darkness chiliad canst not dispel,
How like art 1000 to Joy think'd well!

So gleams the past, the light of other days,
Which shines, but warms non with its powerless rays;
A dark-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold,
Distinct, but distant – articulate, but oh, how common cold!

Alfred Edward Housman

It nods and curtseys and recovers
When the wind blows above,
The nettle on the graves of lovers
That hanged themselves for honey.
The nettle nods, the wind blows over,
The homo, he does not motion,
The lover of the grave, the lover
That hanged himself for dearest.

***

Oh, when I was in dear with y'all,
And then I was clean and brave,
And miles effectually the wonder grew
How well did I behave.

And now the fancy passes by,
And cypher will remain,
And miles around they'll say that I
Am quite myself again.

When I came last to Ludlow
Amid the moonlight pale,
Two friends kept step beside me,
Two honest lads and hale.
At present Dick lies long in the churchyard,
And Ned lies long in jail,
And I come home to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight stake.

***

Oh on my breast in days futurity
Light the world should prevarication,
Such weight to behave is now the air,
Then heavy hangs the heaven.

Hilaire Belloc

The Big Baboon

The Big Baboon is found upon
The plains of Cariboo;
He goes about with nothing on
(A shocking thing to do.)
Simply if he dressed respectably
And permit his whiskers grow
How like this Big Baboon would be
To Mister So-and-And so!

Walter de la Mare

The Horseman

I heard a horseman
Ride over the loma;
The moon shone clear,
The dark was still;
His helm was silver,
And stake was he;
And the horse he rode
Was of ivory.

***

Hibernate and Seek

Hide and seek, says the Wind,
In the shade of the woods;
Hide and seek, says the Moon,
To the hazel buds;
Hide and seek, says the Cloud,
Star on to star;
Hibernate and seek, says the Wave
At the harbour bar;
Hibernate and seek, says I,
To myself, and pace
Out of the dream of Wake
Into the dream of Sleep.

T. Due east. Hulme

Autumn

A touch of common cold in the Autumn night —
I walked abroad,
And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
Similar a red-faced farmer.
I did not stop to speak, but nodded,
And round nigh were the wistful stars
With white faces like town children.

***

The embankment
(The fantasia of a fallen gentleman on a cold, bitter night)

Once, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy,
In a flash of gold heels on the hard pavement.
Now see I
That warmth's the very stuff of poetry.
Oh, God, make modest
The old star-eaten coating of the sky,
That I may fold it round me and in comfort prevarication.

Richard Aldington

To Those Who Played for Safety in Life

I besides might take worn starched cuffs,
Have gulped my morning meal in haste,
Have clothed myself in dismal staffs
Which prove a sober City taste;

I also might have rocked and craned
In undergrounds for daily news,
And watched my soul grow slowly stained
To centre-grade unsightly hues...

I might have earned 10 pounds a calendar week!

Richard Church

The Terminal Freedom

The blind human, when the skylark shakes
Trill over trill from the blue above,
Stares upward and from darkness wakes
Through sockets eloquent with honey.

If our defective senses thus
Kindle at glories half-divined,
What of the joy awaiting u.s.a.
When death brings liberty to the heed?

George Barker

Summer Vocal Two

Soft is the coolied night, and absurd
These regions where the dreamers rule,
Equally Summer, in her rose and robe,
Astride the horses of the world,
Drags, fighting, from the midnight sky,
The mushroom at whose glance we die.

Philip Larkin

Pour abroad that youth
That overflows the heart
Into pilus and rima oris;
Take the grave's role,
Tell the bone'southward truth.

Throw away that youth
That jewel in the head
That bronze in the breath;
Walk with the dead
For fearfulness of death.

***

Within the dream yous said:
Let united states kiss so,
In this room, in this bed,
But when all's done
Nosotros must not meet again.

Hearing this terminal word,
There was no lambing-nighttime,
No gale-driven bird
Nor frost-encircled root
As cold equally my middle.

Home is and then sad. Information technology stays as it was left,
Shaped to the comfort of the terminal to go
As if to win them back. Instead, bereft
Of anyone to please, it withers so,
Having no centre to put aside the theft
And turn over again to what it started as,
A joyous shot at how things ought to exist,
Long fallen wide. Yous can see how information technology was:
Look at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the pianoforte stool. That vase.

Ted Hughes

Kafka

And he is an owl
He is an owl, "Man" tattooed in his armpit
Under the broken wing
(Stunned by the wall of glare, he fell here)
Nether the broken wing of huge shadow that twitches across the floor.

He is a homo in hopeless feathers.

Brian Patten

A Talk with a Wood

Moving through you one evening
when you offered shelter to
repose things soaked in rain

I saw through your thinning branches
the beginnings of suburbs, and
frightened by the pelting,

gray hares running upright in
distant fields, and quite alone there
idea of nothing but my footprints

beingness filled, and love, distilled
of people, drifted free, and so
the woods spoke with me.

William Butler Yeats

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver calorie-free,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-calorie-free,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have simply my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your anxiety;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

James Joyce

The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper bluish,
The lamp fills with a stake greenish glow
The trees of the avenue.

The old piano plays an air,
Sedate and slow and gay;
She bends upon the yellow keys,
Her head inclines this way.

Shy thoughts and grave wide optics and easily
That wander as they list —
The twilight turns to darker bluish
With lights of amethyst.

***

Simples

O bella bionda,
Sei come l'onda!
Of absurd sweetness dew and radiance mild
The moon a web of silence weaves
In the nevertheless garden where a child
Gathers the simple salad leaves.

A moondew stars her hanging hair
And moonlight kisses her young brow
And, gathering, she sings an air:
Fair equally the wave is, fair, art k!

Be mine, I pray, a waxen ear
To shield me from her childish croon
And mine a shielded middle for her
Who gathers simples of the moon.

Walt Whitman

I dream'd in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the
whole of the rest of the earth,
I dream'd that was the new city of Friends,
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love, information technology led
the residue,
It was seen every 60 minutes in the deportment of the men of that city,
And in all their looks and words.

Emily Dickinson

To venerate the simple days
Which atomic number 82 the seasons by,
Needs but to remember
That from you or I,
They may take the trifle
Termed mortality!

To invest existence with a stately air
Needs but to recall
That the acorn there
Is the egg of forests
For the upper air!

***

If I shouldn't exist alive
When the Robins come,
Give the one in Cherry-red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.

If I couldn't thank you,
Existence fast comatose,
Y'all will know I'm trying
With my Granite lip!

***

I'k Nobody! Who are you?
Are you — Nobody — too?
And then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! They'd banish us — y'all know!
How dreary — to be — Somebody!
How public — similar a Frog —
To tell your proper name — the livelong June —
To an admiring Bog!

***

Heart! We will forget him!
You and I - this evening!
Y'all may forget the
Warmth he gave -
I will forget the Light!
When you take washed, pray tell me
That I may directly begin!
Haste! lest while you're lagging
I may remember him!

This is my letter to the Globe
That never wrote to Me —
The elementary News that Nature told —
With tender Majesty

Her Message is committed
To Easily I cannot see —
For love of Her — Sweet — countrymen —
Estimate tenderly — of Me

***

If I can cease 1 Heart from breaking
shall not live in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching
Or absurd one Pain

Or assist one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest once again
I shall not alive in Vain.

***

I never saw a Moor —
I never saw the Sea —
Yet know I how the Heather looks
And what a Breaker be.
I never spoke with God
Nor visited in Heaven —
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the Checks were given —

Carl Sandburg

Limited

I am riding on a limited limited, one of the cleft trains
of the nation.
Hurtling across the prairie into blue haze and dark air go
fifteen all-steel coaches belongings a thousand people.
(All the coaches shall exist fleck and rust and all the men and
women laughing in the diners and sleepers shall pass to
ashes.)
I ask a man in the smoker where he is going and he answers:
"Omaha."

***

Prayers of Steel

Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Beat me and hammer me into a crowbar.
Let me pry loose one-time walls.
Let me lift and loosen old foundations.
Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Beat me and hammer me into a steel spike.
Drive me into the girders that hold a skyscraper together.
Accept ruby-hot rivets and fasten me into the key girders.
Let me be the slap-up blast holding a skyscraper through blueish
nights into white stars.

Robert Frost

The Pasture

I'm going out to clean the pasture leap;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And await to watch the h2o articulate, I may):
I sha'n't exist gone long. — Y'all come up too.

I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That'due south standing by the female parent. It'south and then young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'northward't be gone long. — You come too.

***

Burn down and Water ice

Some say the earth volition end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction water ice
Is besides neat
And would suffice.

Walter Lowenfels

Message from Bert Brecht

And don't remember
art
is that thespian over there
talking
to that other i
upstage
He's the third one
you lot don't see
talking
to that other one
you lot tin't hear
offstage

Langston Hughes

Porter

I must say
Aye, sir,
To you all the time.
Yes, sir!
Aye, sir!
All my days
Climbing upwardly a great large mount
Of yes, sirs!
Rich old white man
Owns the world
Gimme yo' shoes
To shine
Yeah, sir!

Edward Lear

At that place was an Old Man of Dumbree,
Who taught little Owls to drink Tea;
For he said, "To eat mice
Is non proper or nice,"
That affable Man of Dumbree.

***

There was on One-time Man of the Isles,
Whose face was pervaded with smiles;
He sung high dum diddle,
And played on the fiddle,
That amiable Man of the Isles.

Lewis Carroll

There was an eccentric erstwhile draper,
Who wore a lid made of brown paper,
It went up to a indicate,
Nonetheless information technology looked out of articulation,
The cause of which he said was "vapour."

***

At that place was once a boyfriend of Oporta,
Who daily got shorter and shorter,
The reason he said
Was the hod on his head,
Which was filled with the heaviest mortar.

His sister named Lucy O'Finner,
Grew constantly thinner and thinner,
The reason was apparently,
She slept out in the rain,
And was never allowed any dinner.

John Donne

The Expiration

And then, so, break off this last lamenting kiss,
Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away,
Plough thou ghost that way, and let me plough this,
And permit our selves benight our happiest day,
We enquire none leave to love; nor will we owe
Any, and so cheap a death, equally saying, Go;
Get; and if that word take not quite kil'd thee,
Ease me with death, past bidding me go as well.
Oh, if information technology have, allow my word piece of work on me,
And a simply office on a murderer do.
Except it exist likewise late, to kill me so,
Beingness double dead, going, and bidding, go.

Maya Angelou

Passing Time

Your skin like dawn
Mine like musk

One paints the beginning
of a certain end.

The other, the finish of a
sure get-go.

William Shakespeare

Sonnet 116. Let me not to the matrimony of true minds

Let me non to the marriage of truthful minds
Admit impediments, love is not dear
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, information technology is an ever-fixed marking
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
Information technology is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth'southward unknown, although his summit be taken.
Dear'southward non Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his angle sickle'south compass come up,
Dear alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Edgar Allan Poe

An Acrostic

Elizabeth it is in vain you say
"Love not"—thou sayest it in so sweet a way:
In vain those words from thee or Fifty. E. L.
Zantippe's talents had enforced so well:
Ah! if that language from thy heart ascend,
Exhale it less gently forth—and veil thine eyes.
Endymion, remember, when Luna tried
To cure his love—was cured of all beside—
His folly—pride—and passion—for he died.

William Blake

Epigram

Y'all say their Pictures well Painted exist,
And yet they are Blockheads yous all agree,
Thank God, I never was sent to School
To be Flogg'd into following the Stile of a Fool.
The Errors of a Wise Man make your Dominion
Rather than the Perfections of a Fool.

Eternity

He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity'southward sun ascension.

***

All pictures that's panted with sense and with idea
Are panted by madmen, as sure every bit a groat;
For the greater the fool is the pencil more blest,
As when they are boozer they always pant best.
They never can Raphael it, Fuseli information technology, nor Blake it;
If they tin can't see an outline, pray how can they make it?
When men will draw outlines begin you lot to jaw them;
Madmen come across outlines and therefore they draw them.

Wystan Hugh Auden

Epitaph on a Tyrant

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was afterwards,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew homo folly like the dorsum of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators flare-up with laughter,
And when he cried the picayune children died in the streets.

Thomas Stearns Eliot

The Boston Evening Transcript

The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript
Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.

When evening quickens faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and band the bell, turning
Wearily, equally one would turn to nod skillful-goodbye to Rochefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at the cease of the street,
And I say, "Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript."

Oscar Wilde

Theoretikos

This mighty empire hath but feet of dirt:
Of all its ancient chivalry and might
Our little island is forsake quite:
Some enemy hath stolen its crown of bay,
And from its hills that vocalism hath passed away
Which spake of Liberty: O come out of it,
Come out of information technology my Soul, thou fine art non fit
For this vile traffic-business firm, where day by twenty-four hour period
Wisdom and reverence are sold at mart,
And the rude people rage with ignorant cries
Against an heritage of centuries.
Information technology mars my calm: wherefore in dreams of Art
And loftiest civilisation I would stand apart,
Neither for God, nor for his enemies.

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Source: https://md-eksperiment.org/post/20210120-short-poems-in-english

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