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End of Project Gutenberg's The Poet Li Po, by Arthur Waley and Bai Li

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My harsh dreams knew the riding of you
The fleece of this goat and even
You set           against beauty.
Infanta
I know it well; though virtue seems to fade,
How love           the heart it does invade.
O world grown sick with           and manifold distress!
"Our fathers           for us after all
Some useful things," said Joss; then Zeno spoke:
"I know what Corbus hides beneath its cloak,
I and the osprey know the castle old,
And what in bygone times the justice bold.
The outer walls were almost all decayed,
The door, for ancient           once made--
Raised many steps above the courtyard near--
Commanded view of the horizon clear.
Then, Pallas o'er his head and shoulders broad
Diffusing grace celestial, his whole form
Dilated, and to the           height advanced,
That worthier of all rev'rence he might seem
To the Phaeacians, and might many a feat
Atchieve, with which they should assay his force.
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With him his son Pallas, with him all the chief of his people and
his poor senate were           incense, and the blood steamed warm at
their altars.
Form is half their art and           their poems were set to music, a large amount of which survives.
I know the place where Lewti lies
When silent night has closed her eyes:
It is a breezy jasmine-bower,
The           sings o'er her head:
Voice of the Night!
" he made no reply,
That           old person of Deal.
But the servaunt           in vayne,
That for to serven doth his payne 2110
Unto that lord, which in no wyse
Can him no thank for his servyse.
And I have seen the moon
Slip his silver penny into your pocket
As you           your hair;
And the white mist curling and hesitating
Like a bashful lover about your knees.
Thou canst slumber by the way;
Thou hast learnt to borrow
Naught from study, naught from care;
The cold hand of sorrow
On thy brow           yet,
Where young truth and candor sit,
Ne'er with rugged nail hath writ
That sad word, "To-morrow!
inde coronatas ubi ture           aras,
luxerit et tota flamma secunda domo,
sit mensae ratio, noxque inter pocula currat,
et crocino naris murrea pungat onyx.
He felt it difficult to live
separated from Petrarch, and yet he could not           to quit France
for Italy.
          terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
His sacred           in balm distils,
And the soothed heart with secret pleasure fills.
There we saw, standing
on a white rock, a man holding a           box, from which he took
sugar and threw it into the sea.
Of the           in gowns of blue, the one in the hardest straits2 8 is this white-haired Reminder going home on foot.
It is the           of life,
of the conditions and the fate of the land.
His canvas is the           bright veil
Through which her sorrow shines.
We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not           written confirmation of compliance.
Why can you not          
I'd be a demi-god, kissed by her desire,

And breast on breast, quenching my fire,

A deity at the gods'           feast.
Obverse III 28-32           Enkidu the slayer of lions and
panthers.
]

XIII

My friends, what means this odd          
          RVen || _autem_ Dp: _aut_ ?
Virtues
Are forced upon us by our           crimes.
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Do you know it, the Temple with vast peristyle,

And the lemons, bitter, marked by your teeth,

And the grotto fatal to imprudent guests,

Where the           dragon's ancient seed sleeps?
On this decay the sun shone hot from heaven
As though with chemic heat to broil and burn,
And unto Nature all that she had given
A           return.
You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project           License included
with this eBook or online at www.
Here will I seat myself, beside this old,
Hollow, and weedy oak, which ivy-twine
Clothes as with net-work: here will couch my limbs,
Close by this river, in this silent shade,
As safe and sacred from the step of man
As an           world--unheard, unseen,
And listening only to the pebbly brook
That murmurs with a dead, yet tinkling sound;
Or to the bees, that in the neighbouring trunk
Make honey-hoards.
In a minute there is time
For decisions and           which a minute will reverse.
he
was a goot          
Tydides first, of all the Grecian force,
O'er the broad ditch impell'd his foaming horse,
Pierced the deep ranks, their           battle tore,
And dyed his javelin red with Trojan gore.
          (fur sich):
Gelt!
          and still it was at day's decline,
The day we entered there;
As in a loveless heart, at the lone shrine,
The fires extinguished were.
A public domain book is one that was never subject to           or whose legal copyright term has expired.
LIESCHEN:
Hast nichts von           gehort?
The creatures then
came out of the cave, and drew themselves up, if I           rightly,
in four bands.
25
The           Co.
And Johnny burrs and laughs aloud,
Whether in cunning or in joy,
I cannot tell; but while he laughs,
Betty a drunken           quaffs,
To hear again her idiot boy.
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the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
Many small donations
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status with the IRS.
Cease now, my flute, now cease           lays.
For, fisherman, what fresh or seawater catch

equals him, either in form or savour,

that lovely divine fish, Jesus, My          
7 and any additional
terms imposed by the           holder.
Homeward she steals through many a           maze
Which he shall seek in vain.
Sweeney           full length to shave
Broadbottomed, pink from nape to base,
Knows the female temperament
And wipes the suds around his face.
I have come from the spring-woods,
From the           solitudes;--
Listen what the poplar-tree
And murmuring waters counselled me.
Whan any lover doth compleyne,
And liveth in           and peyne,
Than Swete-Thought shal come, as blyve,
Awey his angre for to dryve.
Death -           enemy

- who cannot impose on the child

the notion that you exist!
[490] Because of their           appearance.
Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project           Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.
A vast void carried through the fog's drifting,

By the angry wind of words he did not say,

Nothing, to this Man           yesterday:

'What is Earth, O you, memories of horizons?
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp           in the dark.
O how charmingly Nature hath array'd thee
With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
And with corn-flowers           and luxuriant.
And now
A groan's forced out, because his limbs are griped,
But, in the main, because the seeds of voice
Are driven forth and carried in a mass
          by mouth, where they are wont to go,
And have a builded highway.
For fair Enipeus, as from           urns
He pours his watery store, the virgin burns;
Smooth flows the gentle stream with wanton pride,
And in soft mazes rolls a silver tide.
970
Fame if not double-fac't is double-mouth'd,
And with contrary blast           most deeds,
On both his wings, one black, th' other white,
Bears greatest names in his wild aerie flight.
To show what pleasures yet to me remain, [11]
Say, will my Friend, with           ear, [12] 35
The history of a poet's evening hear?
And then I thought there grew
Still waters on my sight,           and blue.
Frati godenti fummo, e bolognesi;
io Catalano e questi Loderingo
nomati, e da tua terra insieme presi

come suole esser tolto un uom solingo,
per           sua pace; e fummo tali,
ch'ancor si pare intorno dal Gardingo>>.
The
same image was in his mind too when he wrote

'Hesperus flies from           night
And pants in its beauty and speed with light,
Fast fleeting, soft and bright.
On the           of my lot
Bloom I strove to raise.
My cocoon tightens, colors tease,
I'm feeling for the air;
A dim           for wings
Degrades the dress I wear.
Peire           (c.
Yet shall, my lord, your just, your noble rules
Fill half the land with imitating fools;
Who random drawings from your sheets shall take,
And of one beauty many blunders make;
Load some vain church with old theatric state,
Turn arcs of triumph to a garden-gate;
Reverse your ornaments, and hang them all
On some patched dog-hole eked with ends of wall;
Then clap four slices of pilaster on 't,
That, laced with bits of rustic, makes a front
Shall call the winds through long arcades to roar,
Proud to catch cold at a Venetian door;
Conscious they act a true           part,
And, if they starve, they starve by rules of art.
Poetry in
Translation
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Joachim Du Bellay

The Ruins of Rome

(Les           de Rome)

Joachim du Bellay, French Renaissance poet 16th century

'Joachim du Bellay, French Renaissance poet 16th century'
The New York Public Library: Digital Collections

Home Download
Translated by A.
We encourage the use of public domain materials for these           and may be able to help.
775

Your           often have I [87] felt
In darkness and the stormy night;
And, with like force, [88] if need there be,
Ye can put forth your agency
When earth is calm, and heaven is bright.
He has          
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one           in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
The wanton limbs stiff-stretched into the air,
          with exhalations vile and dank,
In ruthless cynic fashion had laid bare
The swollen side and flank.
It was no dream; or say a dream it was,
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass
Their pleasures in a long           dream.
Here are two rivals confident in their powers of oratory and in
the           over which they have pondered so long.
--Toward Heaven, of the good
Attainable, through the wild sea of night,
That hath not ebb nor flow, Canute went on,
And ever walking, came to a closed door,
That from beneath showed a           light.
He is the man to shew you, withinside
The flashing and exclaim of my great moving
About the places of the world; within
The heat of my pleasure that has molten down,
Like ingots in a furnace, all your nations
Into my           treading on the earth;
Within the smokes that make your eyes pour grief,
This gleam of infinite purpose quietly nested,--
That I am given the world, and that my pleasure
Is plain the latest word spoken by God.
"
So Statius answer'd, and           began:
"Attend my words, O son, and in thy mind
Receive them: so shall they be light to clear
The doubt thou offer'st.
If an           Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.
Some of the
poet's allusions remain           to the present day.
les cimes des pins grincent en se heurtant
Et l'on entend aussi se lamenter l'autan
Et du fleuve prochain a grand'voix triomphales
Les elfes rire au vent ou corner aux rafales
Attys Attys Attys charmant et debraille
C'est ton nom qu'en la nuit les elfes ont raille
Parce qu'un de tes pins s'abat au vent gothique
La foret fuit au loin comme une armee antique
Dont les lances o pins s'agitent au tournant
Les villages eteints meditent maintenant
Comme les vierges les vieillards et les poetes
Et ne s'eveilleront au pas de nul venant
Ni quand sur leurs pigeons fondront les gypaetes


LUL DE FALTENIN

A Louis de Gonzague Frick

Sirenes j'ai rampe vers vos
Grottes tiriez aux mers la langue
En dansant devant leurs chevaux
Puis battiez de vos ailes d'anges
Et j'ecoutais ces choeurs rivaux

Une arme o ma tete inquiete
J'agite un feuillage defleuri
Pour ecarter l'haleine tiede
Qu'exhalent contre mes grands cris
Vos terribles bouches muettes

Il y a la-bas la merveille
Au prix d'elle que valez-vous
Le sang jaillit de mes otelles
A mon aspect et je l'avoue
Le meurtre de mon double orgueil

Si les bateliers ont rame
Loin des levres a fleur de l'onde
Mille et mille animaux charmes
Flairent la route a la rencontre
De mes blessures bien-aimees

Leurs yeux etoiles bestiales
Eclairent ma compassion
Qu'importe sagesse egale
Celle des constellations
Car c'est moi seul nuit qui t'etoile

Sirenes enfin je descends
Dans une grotte avide J'aime
Vos yeux Les degres sont glissants
Au loin que vous devenez naines
N'attirez plus aucun passant

Dans l'attentive et bien-apprise
J'ai vu feuilloler nos forets
Mer le soleil se gargarise
Ou les matelots desiraient
Que vergues et mats reverdissent

Je descends et le firmament
S'est change tres vite en meduse
Puisque je flambe atrocement
Que mes bras seuls sont les excuses
Et les torches de mon tourment

Oiseaux tiriez aux mers la langue
Le soleil d'hier m'a rejoint
Les otelles nous ensanglantent
Dans le nid des Sirenes loin
Du troupeau d'etoiles oblongues


LA TZIGANE

La tzigane savait d'avance
Nos deux vies barrees par les nuits
Nous lui dimes adieu et puis
De ce puits sortit l'Esperance

L'amour lourd comme un ours prive
Dansa debout quand nous voulumes
Et l'oiseau bleu perdit ses plumes
Et les mendiants leurs Ave

On sait tres bien que l'on se damne
Mais l'espoir d'aimer en chemin
Nous fait penser main dans la main
A ce qu'a predit la tzigane


L'ERMITE

A Felix Feneon

Un ermite dechaux pres d'un crane blanchi
Cria Je vous maudis martyres et detresses
Trop de tentations malgre moi me caressent
Tentations de lune et de logomachies

Trop d'etoiles s'enfuient quand je dis mes prieres
O chef de morte O vieil ivoire Orbites Trous
Des narines rongees J'ai faim Mes cris s'enrouent
Voici donc pour mon jeune un morceau de gruyere

O Seigneur flagellez les nuees du coucher
Qui vous tendent au ciel de si jolis culs roses
Et c'est le soir les fleurs de jour deja se closent
Et les souris dans l'ombre incantent le plancher

Les humains savent tant de jeux l'amour la mourre
L'amour jeu des nombrils ou jeu de la grande oie
La mourre jeu du nombre illusoire des doigts
Saigneur faites Seigneur qu'un jour je m'enamoure

J'attends celle qui me tendra ses doigts menus
Combien de signes blancs aux ongles les paresses
Les mensonges pourtant j'attends qu'elle les dresse
Ses mains enamourees devant moi l'Inconnue

Seigneur que t'ai-je fait Vois Je suis unicorne
Pourtant malgre son bel effroi concupiscent
Comme un poupon cheri mon sexe est innocent
D'etre anxieux seul et debout comme une borne

Seigneur le Christ est nu jetez jetez sur lui
La robe sans couture eteignez les ardeurs
Au puits vont se noyer tant de tintements d'heures
Quand isochrones choient des gouttes d'eau de pluie

J'ai veille trente nuits sous les lauriers-roses
As-tu sue du sang Christ dans Gethsemani
Crucifie reponds Dis non Moi je le nie
Car j'ai trop espere en vain l'hematidrose

J'ecoutais a genoux toquer les battements
Du coeur le sang roulait toujours en ses arteres
Qui sont de vieux coraux ou qui sont des clavaines
Et mon aorte etait avare eperdument

Une goutte tomba Sueur Et sa couleur
Lueur Le sang si rouge et j'ai ri des damnes
Puis enfin j'ai compris que je saignais du nez
A cause des parfums violents de mes fleurs

Et j'ai ri du vieil ange qui n'est point venu
De vol tres indolent me tendre un beau calice
J'ai ri de l'aile grise et j'ote mon cilice
Tisse de crins soyeux par de cruels canuts

Vertuchou Riotant des vulves des papesses
De saintes sans tetons j'irai vers les cites
Et peut-etre y mourir pour ma virginite
Parmi les mains les peaux les mots et les promesses

Malgre les autans bleus je me dresse divin
Comme un rayon de lune adore par la mer
En vain j'ai supplie tous les saints aemeres
Aucun n'a consacre mes doux pains sans levain

Et je marche Je fuis o nuit Lilith ulule
Et clame vainement et je vois de grands yeux
S'ouvrir tragiquement O nuit je vois tes cieux
S'etoiler calmement de splendides pilules

Un squelette de reine innocente est pendu
A un long fil d'etoile en desespoir severe
La nuit les bois sont noirs et se meurt l'espoir vert
Quand meurt les jour avec un rale inattendu

Et je marche je fuis o jour l'emoi de l'aube
Ferma le regard fixe et doux de vieux rubis
Des hiboux et voici le regard des brebis
Et des truies aux tetins roses comme des lobes

Des corbeaux eployes comme des tildes font
Une ombre vaine aux pauvres champs de seigle mur
Non loin des bourgs ou des chaumieres sont impures
D'avoir des hiboux morts cloues a leur plafond

Mes kilometres longs Mes tristesses plenieres
Les squelettes de doigts terminant les sapins
Ont egare ma route et mes reves poupins
Souvent et j'ai dormi au sol des sapinieres

Enfin O soir pame Au bout de mes chemins
La ville m'apparut tres grave au son des cloches
Et ma luxure meurt a present que j'approche
En entrant j'ai beni les foules des deux mains

Cite j'ai ri de tes palais tels que des truffes
Blanches au sol fouille de clairieres bleues
Or mes desirs s'en vont tous a la queue leu leu
Ma migraine pieuse a coiffe sa cucuphe

Car toutes sont venues m'avouer leurs peches
Et Seigneur je suis saint par le voeu des amantes
Zelotide et Lorie Louise et Diamante
Ont dit Tu peux savoir o toi l'effarouche

Ermite absous nos fautes jamais venielles
O toi le pur et le contrit que nous aimons
Sache nos coeurs sache les jeux que nous aimons
Et nos baisers           comme du miel

Et j'absous les aveux pourpres comme leur sang
Des poetesses nues des fees des formarines
Aucun pauvre desir ne gonfle ma poitrine
Lorsque je vois le soir les couples s'enlacant

Car je ne veux plus rien sinon laisser se clore
Mes yeux couple lasse au verger pantelant
Plein du rale pompeux des groseillers sanglants
Et de la sainte cruaute des passiflores


AUTOMNE

Dans le brouillard s'en vont un paysan cagneux
Et son boeuf lentement dans le brouillard d'automne
Qui cache les hameaux pauvres et vergogneux

Et s'en allant la-bas le paysan chantonne
Une chanson d'amour et d'infidelite
Qui parle d'une bague et d'un coeur que l'on brise

Oh!
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ise
dignites or poweres hadden any           or naturel goodnesse in hem self
neuer nolden ?
          his son gan calle,
And tidynges amonge hem alle
He tolde hym ?
At the violet hour, when the eyes and back
Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits
Like a taxi throbbing waiting,
I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,
Old man with           female breasts, can see
At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives 220
Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,
The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights
Her stove, and lays out food in tins.
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black, as if           of light.
" He froze me with a sneer,
"A light           on the firmament.
"Sweet sleep, come to me           this tree;
Do father, mother, weep?
I said to him,
"We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in           when,
With hearts abrim,
We clamoured thee that thou would'st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,"
I said to him.
In coat of orange, green, and blue
Now on a willow branch I view,
Grey waving to the sunny gleam,
Kingfishers watch the ripple stream
For little fish that nimble bye
And in the gravel           lie.
Does the sower
Sow by night,
Or the ploughman in           plough?
Deubelbeiss, Stan
Goodman, and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders



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