_Jam
undique sylvæ, et solitudo, ipsumque illud silentium, quod venationi
datur, magna
cogitationis
incitamenta sunt.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Tacitus |
|
She won without a single woman's wile,
Illumining the earth with
peerless
smile.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Hugo - Poems |
|
'7-36'
Pope inserted these lines in a late
revision
in 1717, in order, as he
said, to open more clearly the moral of the poem.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Alexander Pope |
|
--Un chant
mysterieux
tombe des astres d'or.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Rimbaud - Poesie Completes |
|
_He _must be blind indeed who does not
perceive the radical and chasmal difference between the
truthful
and the
poetical modes of inculcation.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Edgar Allen Poe |
|
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely
available
for generations to come.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
William Wordsworth |
|
And now the blossom of the village view,
With airy hat of straw, and apron blue,
And short-sleeved gown, that half to guess reveals
By fine-turned arms what beauty it conceals;
Whose cheeks health flushes with as sweet a red
As that which stripes the woodbine oer her head;
Deeply she blushes on her morn's employ,
To prove the fondness of some passing boy,
Who, with a smile that thrills her soul to view,
Holds the gate open till she passes through,
While turning nods beck thanks for
kindness
done,
And looks--if looks could speak-proclaim her won.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
John Clare |
|
ferus ipse sese
adhortans
rapidum incitat animo, 85
uadit, fremit, refringit uirgulta pede uago.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Latin - Catullus |
|
SEMPER EADEM
<< D'ou vous vient, disiez-vous, cette
tristesse
etrange,
Montant comme la mer sur le roc noir et nu?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Baudelaire - Fleurs Du Mal |
|
VI
"Deal, then, her groping skill no scorn, no note of malediction;
Not long on thee will press the hand that hurts the lives it loves;
And while she dares dead-reckoning on, in darkness of affliction,
Assist her where thy
creaturely
dependence can or may,
For thou art of her clay.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Thomas Hardy - Poems of the Past and Present |
|
With
difficulty
I
forbore showing my anger, which I knew would be wholly useless.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Pushkin - Daughter of the Commandant |
|
Silently we went round and round,
And through each hollow mind
The Memory of
dreadful
things
Rushed like a dreadful wind,
And Horror stalked before each man,
And Terror crept behind.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Wilde - Poems |
|
We do not solicit
donations
in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
French - Apollinaire - Alcools |
|
and, of those few, several were withheld by
timidity
or
envy from declaring their sense of it.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Shelley |
|
34
Seek not to know which song or saying yields 37
As long as tinted haze the mountain covered 38
Ye speak of
raptures
that are void and friendless 39
?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Stefan George - Selections from His Works and Others |
|
I was now utterly amazed at his behavior, and firmly
resolved
that we
should not part until I had satisfied myself in some measure respecting
him.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Poe - 5 |
|
FUZZY-WUZZY
(Soudan
Expeditionary
Force)
We've fought with many men acrost the seas,
An' some of 'em was brave an' some was not:
The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese;
But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Kipling - Poems |
|
Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic
works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Blake - Songs of Innocence, Songs of Experience |
|
And multimarbled Genova the Proud,
Gleam all
unconscious
how, wide-lipped, up-browed,
I first beheld thee clad--not as the Beauty but the Dowd.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Thomas Hardy - Poems of the Past and Present |
|
But bear, oh bear me o'er yon azure flood;
Receive the
suppliant!
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Odyssey - Pope |
|
What not put vpon
His spungie
Officers?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
shakespeare-macbeth |
|
Seeing that nobody walked with the
red-coated commandant, I
attached
myself to him, and though I was not
what is called well-dressed, he did not know whether to repel me or
not, for I talked like one who was not aware of any deficiency in that
respect.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Thoreau - Excursions and Poems |
|
And one thinks of Rainer Maria Rilke, young, blond, with his
slender aristocratic figure, the slightly bent-forward figure of one who
on solitary walks meditates much and intensely, with his sensitive full
mouth and the "firm
structure
of the eyebrow gladly sunk in the shadow
of contemplation," the face full of dreams and with an expression of
listening to some distant music.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Rilke - Poems |
|
And what the
creeping
breeze that comes [24]
The little pond to stir?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Wordsworth - 1 |
|
His answer to the
offensive
production flows with anger, and is harsh
even to abusiveness.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Petrarch |
|
our country's hope and glory,
I'll tell thee all the truth, without a falsehood:
Thou must know that I had comrades, four in number;
Of my
comrades
four the first was gloomy midnight;
The second was a steely dudgeon dagger;
The third it was a swift and speedy courser;
The fourth of my companions was a bent bow;
My messengers were furnace-harden'd arrows.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Pushkin - Talisman |
|
Speaks not of self that mystic tone,
But of the
Overgods
alone:
It trembles to the cosmic breath,--
As it heareth, so it saith;
Obeying meek the primal Cause,
It is the tongue of mundane laws.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Emerson - Poems |
|
The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this
agreement
shall not void the remaining provisions.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Robert Burns |
|
"
"Philosophy," said I, ''hath arguments,
And this place hath
authority
enough
'T' imprint in me such love: for, of constraint,
Good, inasmuch as we perceive the good,
Kindles our love, and in degree the more,
As it comprises more of goodness in 't.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Dante - The Divine Comedy |
|
1 with
active links or
immediate
access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Lucretius |
|
Enter a Sewer, and diuers
Seruants
with Dishes
and
Seruice ouer the Stage.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
shakespeare-macbeth |
|
What dens, what forests these,
Thus in
wildering
race I see?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Horace - Odes, Carmen |
|
And
Trinculo
is reeling ripe; where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Shakespeare |
|
We encourage the use of public domain
materials
for these purposes and may be able to help.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Meredith - Poems |
|
And after
youthful
follies ran,
Though little given to care and thought,
Yet, so it was, a ewe I bought;
And other sheep from her I raised,
As healthy sheep as you might see,
And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;
Of sheep I number'd a full score,
And every year encreas'd my store.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Coleridge - Lyrical Ballads |
|
e
emperour
seyde ?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Adam Davy's Five Dreams about Edward II - 1389 |
|
Pray for God's grace,
confessing
Him your sins!
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Chanson de Roland |
|
Go,
loathsome
monster,
Go: leave me to brood on my pitiful future.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Racine - Phaedra |
|
And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought, 60
With many
recognitions
dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity,
The picture of the mind revives again:
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts 65
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
William Wordsworth |
|
10
A
_Highland_
Boy!
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
William Wordsworth |
|
Where'er the
radiance
of thy coming fall,
Shall dawn for thee her saffron footcloths spread,
Sunset her purple canopies and red,
In serried splendour, and the night unfold
Her velvet darkness wrought with starry gold
For kingly raiment, soft as cygnet-down.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Sarojini Naidu - Golden Threshold |
|
Le Testament: Rondeau
Death, I cry out at your harshness,
That stole my girl away from me,
Yet you're not
satisfied
I see
Until I languish in distress.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Villon |
|
And brief the respite;
soon as they seized him, his sword-doom was spoken,
and the
burnished
blade a baleful murder
proclaimed and closed.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Beowulf, translated by Francis Gummere |
|
_Dumu-zi_
I take to have been
originally
the name of a prehistoric ruler of
Erech, identified with the primitive deity Abu.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Epic of Gilgamesh |
|
THEY SAY--
They say I have a
constant
heart, who know
Not anything of how it turns and yields
First here, first there; nor how in separate fields
It runs to reap and then remains to sow;
How, with quick worship, it will bend and glow
Before a line of song, an antique vase,
Evening at sea; or in a well-loved face
Seek and find all that Beauty can bestow.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
American Poetry - 1922 - A Miscellany |
|
The cantos are short, and about the same length of
those of the poet, whose name I have
borrowed
and most likely taken in
vain.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Byron |
|
In vain--since there thou
mightest
see them sink,
Their sinews severed, and with heavy fall
Bestrew the ground.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Lucretius |
|
And yet I blame thee not; a wife deprived 330
Of her first mate to whom she had produced
Fair fruit of mutual love, would mourn his loss,
Although
he were inferior far to thine,
Whom fame affirms the semblance of the Gods.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Odyssey - Cowper |
|
For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
volunteer
support.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Imagists |
|
Grosart, Parry "was
admitted
to the College of Advocates, London, 3rd
Nov.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Robert Herrick |
|
Get me a chair, be quick, I'm
falling!
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe |
|
It was not ripe yet to sustain
A genius of so fine a strain,
Who gazed upon the sun and moon
As if he came unto his own,
And,
pregnant
with his grander thought,
Brought the old order into doubt.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Emerson - Poems |
|
ily, with a wale chere;
1760 He se3 hir so glorious, & gayly atyred,
So fautles of hir fetures, & of so fyne hewes,
[D] Wi3t
wallande
Ioye warmed his hert;
With smo?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Gawaine and the Green Knight |
|
ei ben
referred
to ?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Chaucer - Boethius |
|
Lie still, my son, the mother said,
Tis but a little space
And half an hour has
scarcely
passed
Since she did pass this place.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
John Clare |
|
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell,
There God is
dwelling
too.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Blake - Songs of Innocence, Songs of Experience |
|
So now the very fount of woe streams out on those I loved,
And mine own son,
unwisely
bold, the truth hereof hath proved!
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Aeschylus |
|
Just so the story goes
That from the Idaean mountain-tops are seen
Dispersed
fires upon the break of day
Which thence combine, as 'twere, into one ball
And form an orb.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Lucretius |
|
Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep
providing
this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Meredith - Poems |
|
Of deathful arts expert, his lord employs
The
ministers
of blood in dark surprise;
And twenty youths, in radiant mail incased,
Close ambush'd nigh the spacious hall he placed.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Odyssey - Pope |
|
_
Soft he neighed to answer her, and then
followed
up the stair
For the love of her sweet look:
LXXI.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Elizabeth Browning |
|
Cantered
so far, he came before his band;
From hour to hour then, as he went, he sang:
"Pagans, come on: already flee the Franks!
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Chanson de Roland |
|
_] _est
exigitur
est_ G: _est_
(_?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Latin - Catullus |
|
For right amidst there was a court,
Where always muskèd silences
Listened to water and to trees;
And herbage of all fragrant sort,--
Lavender, lad's-love, rosemary,
Basil, tansy, centaury,--
Was the grass of that orchard, hid
Love's
amazements
all amid.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Lascelles Abercrombie - Emblems of Love |
|
His smile was luminously kind
Like glint of ivory enshrined,
Like a home longing undivined,
Like Christmas snows where dark ways wind,
Like sea-pearls about
turquoise
twined,
Like moonlight silver when combined
With a loved book's rare gold.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Rilke - Poems |
|
The strange night-wonder of your eyes Dies not, though passion flieth
Along the star fields of
Arcturus
And is no more unto our hands;
My lips are cold
And yet we twain are never weary,
And the strange night-wonder is upon us,
The leaves hold our wonder in their flutterings, The wind fills our mouths with strange words
For our wonder that grows not old.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Ezra-Pound-Provenca-English |
|
CHORUS
What God can wear such
ruthless
heart
As to delight in ill?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Aeschylus |
|
Of her bold
contempt
of danger
Greene and Lee's Brigades could tell,
Every one knew "Captain Molly,"
And the army loved her well.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Matthews - Poems of American Patriotism |
|
Why, untamed do you scare
At any
approach
you see?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Ronsard |
|
He was now joined by
a
gentleman
of the name of Kerr, and crossing the Tweed a second time,
penetrated into England, as far as the ancient town of Newcastle,
where he smiled at a facetious Northumbrian, who at dinner caused the
beef to be eaten before the broth was served, in obedience to an
ancient injunction, lest the hungry Scotch should come and snatch it.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Robert Burns |
|
2
Of seeds dropping into the ground, of births,
Of the steady concentration of America, inland, upward, to
impregnable and swarming places,
Of what Indiana, Kentucky, Arkansas, and the rest, are to be,
Of what a few years will show there in Nebraska, Colorado, Nevada,
and the rest,
(Or afar, mounting the Northern Pacific to Sitka or Aliaska,)
Of what the feuillage of America is the preparation for--and of what
all sights, North, South, East and West, are,
Of this Union welded in blood, of the solemn price paid, of the
unnamed lost ever present in my mind;
Of the temporary use of
materials
for identity's sake,
Of the present, passing, departing--of the growth of completer men
than any yet,
Of all sloping down there where the fresh free giver the mother, the
Mississippi flows,
Of mighty inland cities yet unsurvey'd and unsuspected,
Of the new and good names, of the modern developments, of
inalienable homesteads,
Of a free and original life there, of simple diet and clean and
sweet blood,
Of litheness, majestic faces, clear eyes, and perfect physique there,
Of immense spiritual results future years far West, each side of the
Anahuacs,
Of these songs, well understood there, (being made for that area,)
Of the native scorn of grossness and gain there,
(O it lurks in me night and day--what is gain after all to savageness
and freedom?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Walt Whitman - Leaves of Grass |
|
If
he is sometimes crude and immature in thought and expression--if his
images sometimes weary by their monotony--it is
accepted
that a poet
is to be judged by his highest and not his lowest; and Chatterton's
best work has an inspiration, a singular and unique charm both of
thought and of music that is of the first order of English poetry.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Thomas Chatterton - Rowley Poems |
|
Rowland
Woodward
was a common friend of Donne and Wotton.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
John Donne |
|
_ Busche:
_dominae
deorum ad
a.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Latin - Catullus |
|
Before ye want a drop of rain,
Hear the
sentiment
of Spain.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Emerson - Poems |
|
They are
besotting
you as they besot
The crazy herdsman that will tell his fellows
That he has been all night upon the hills,
Riding to hurley, or in the battle-host
With the ever-living.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Yeats |
|
A very monument of
ignorant
perversity.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Thomas Chatterton - Rowley Poems |
|
We are many and strong
Whom thou
standest
among,--
And we press on the air,
And we stifle thee back,
And we multiply where
Thou wouldst trample us down
From rights of our own
To an utter wrong--
And, from under the feet of thy scorn,
O forlorn,
We shall spring up like corn,
And our stubble be strong.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Elizabeth Browning |
|
DICHTER:
Ihr fuhlet nicht, wie
schlecht
ein solches Handwerk sei!
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Goethe - Faust- Der Tragödie erster Teil |
|
I looked upward and beheld her: with a calm and regnant spirit,
Slowly round she swept her eyelids, and said clear before them all--
"Have you such
superfluous
honour, sir, that able to confer it
You will come down, Mister Bertram, as my guest to Wycombe Hall?
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Elizabeth Browning |
|
CCXXI
The sixth column is mustered of Bretons;
Thirty
thousand
chevaliers therein come;
These canter in the manner of barons,
Upright their spears, their ensigns fastened on.
| Guess: |
|
| Question: |
|
| Answer: |
|
| Source: |
Chanson de Roland |
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Their virtues, O God, are measured, their sins are weighed, and
even the countless things that pass in the dim twilight of neither
sin nor virtue are
recorded
and catalogued.
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Khalil Gibran - Poems |
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With Sixty-five
Illustrations
by ARTHUR B.
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Lewis Carroll |
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3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic
work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
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Pushkin - Queen of Spades |
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"
And in an instant all was dark:
And
scarcely
had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied.
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Robert Forst |
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Contributions
to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.
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Pushkin - Queen of Spades |
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Ah, curious friend,
Thou
puzzlest
me!
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Dickinson - Three - Complete |
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Come in joy,
Brother, and take to bind thy
rippling
hair
My crowns!
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Euripides - Electra |
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When they draw nigh the citadel above,
From the palace they hear a mighty sound;
About that place are seen pagans enough,
Who weep and cry, with grief are waxen wood,
And curse their gods,
Tervagan
and Mahum
And Apolin, from whom no help is come.
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Chanson de Roland |
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Denying that which mine own spirit guesses
--Our great and ancient fame is also known--
Can I tear off the scarf which veils my tresses,
And with an early
widowhood
atone?
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Stefan George - Selections from His Works and Others |
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Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on
automated
querying.
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Meredith - Poems |
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As
for the muses, they have as much an idea of a
rhinoceros
as of a poet.
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Robert Burns |
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They were transplanted by
Augustus
to
the west side of the Rhine.
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Tacitus |
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But the ship, the ship is
anchored
safe, its voyage closed and done:
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won!
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Whitman |
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Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight
shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
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Eliot - Rhapsody on a Windy Night |
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SEMI-CHORUS
Zeus, hold from my body the wedlock detested, the
bridegroom
abhorred!
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Aeschylus |
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je ne veux pas que tu sortes
L'automne est plein de mains coupees
Non non ce sont des feuilles mortes
Ce sont les mains des cheres mortes
Ce sont tes mains coupees
Nous avons tant pleure aujourd'hui
Avec ces morts leurs enfants et les vieilles femmes
Sous le ciel sans soleil
Au cimetiere plein de flammes
Puis dans le vent nous nous en retournames
A nos pieds roulaient des chataignes
Dont les bogues etaient
Comme le coeur blesse de la madone
Dont on doute si elle eut la peau
Couleur des chataignes d'automne
Les sapins
Les sapins en bonnets pointus
De longues robes revetu
Comme des astrologues
Saluent leurs freres abattus
Les bateaux qui sur le Rhin voguent
Dans les sept arts endoctrines
Par les vieux sapins leurs aines
Qui sont de grands poetes
Ils se savent predestines
A briller plus que des planetes
A briller doucement changes
En etoiles et enneiges
Aux Noels bienheureuses
Fetes des sapins ensonges
Aux longues branches langoureuses
Les sapins beaux musiciens
Chantent des noels anciens
Au vent des soirs d'automne
Ou bien graves magiciens
Incantent le ciel quand il tonne
Des rangees de blancs cherubins
Remplacent l'hiver les sapins
Et balancent leurs ailes
L'ete ce sont de grands rabbins
Ou bien de vieilles demoiselles
Sapins medecins divagants
Ils vont offrant leurs bons onguents
Quand la montagne accouche
De temps en temps sous l'ouragan
Un vieux sapin geint et se couche
Les femmes
Dans la maison du vigneron les femmes cousent
Lenchen remplis le poele et mets l'eau du cafe
Dessus -- Le chat s'etire apres s'etre chauffe
- Gertrude et son voisin Martin enfin s'epousent
Le rossignol aveugle essaya de chanter
Mais l'effraie ululant il trembla dans sa cage
Ce cypres la-bas a l'air du pape en voyage
Sous la neige -- Le facteur vient de s'arreter
Pour causer avec le nouveau maitre d'ecole
- Cet hiver est tres froid le vin sera tres bon
- Le sacristain sourd et boiteux est moribond
- La fille du vieux bourgmestre brode une etole
Pour la fete du cure La foret la-bas
Grace au vent chantait a voix grave de grand orgue
Le songe Herr Traum survint avec sa soeur Frau Sorge
Kaethi tu n'as pas bien raccommode ces bas
- Apporte le cafe le beurre et les tartines
La marmelade le saindoux un pot de lait
- Encore un peu de cafe Lenchen s'il te plait
- On dirait que le vent dit des phrases latines
- Encore un peu de cafe Lenchen s'il te plait
- Lotte es-tu triste O petit coeur -- Je crois qu'elle aime
- Dieu garde -- Pour ma part je n'aime que moi-meme
- Chut A present grand-mere dit son chapelet
- Il me faut du sucre candi Leni je tousse
- Pierre mene son furet chasser les lapins
Le vent faisait danser en rond tous les sapins
Lotte l'amour rend triste -- Ilse la vie est douce
La nuit tombait Les vignobles aux ceps tordus
Devenaient dans l'obscurite des ossuaires
En neige et replies gisaient la des suaires
Et des chiens aboyaient aux passants morfondus
Il est mort ecoutez La cloche de l'eglise
Sonnait tout doucement la mort du sacristain
Lise il faut attiser le poele qui s'eteint
Les femmes se signaient dans la nuit indecise
Septembre 1901 -- mai 1902
SIGNE
Je suis soumis au Chef du Signe de l'Automne
Partant j'aime les fruits je deteste les fleurs
Je regrette chacun des baisers que je donne
Tel un noyer gaule dit au vent ses douleurs
Mon Automne eternelle o ma saison mentale
Les mains des amantes d'antan jonchent ton sol
Une epouse me suit c'est mon ombre fatale
Les colombes ce soir prennent leur dernier vol
UN SOIR
Un aigle descendit de ce ciel blanc d'archanges
Et vous soutenez-moi
Laisserez-vous trembler longtemps toutes ces lampes
Priez priez pour moi
La ville est metallique et c'est la seule etoile
Noyee dans tes yeux bleus
Quand les tramways roulaient jaillissaient des feux pales
Sur des oiseaux galeux
Et tout ce qui tremblait dans tes yeux de mes songes
Qu'un seul homme buvait
Sous les feux de gaz roux comme la fausse oronge
O vetue ton bras se lovait
Vois l'histrion tire la langue aux attentives
Un fantome s'est suicide
L'apotre au figuier pend et lentement salive
Jouons donc cet amour aux des
Des cloches aux sons clairs annoncaient ta naissance
Vois
Les chemins sont fleuris et les palmes s'avancent
Vers toi
LA DAME
Toc toc Il a ferme sa porte
Les lys du jardin sont fletris
Quel est donc ce mort qu'on emporte
Tu viens de toquer a sa porte
Et trotte trotte
Trotte la petite souris
LES FIANCAILLES
A Picasso
Le printemps laisse errer les fiances parjures
Et laisse feuilloler longtemps les plumes bleues
Que secoue le cypres ou niche l'oiseau bleu
Une Madone a l'aube a pris les eglantines
Elle viendra demain cueillir les giroflees
Pour mettre aux nids des colombes qu'elle destine
Au pigeon qui ce soir semblait le Paraclet
Au petit bois de citronniers s'enamourerent
D'amour que nous aimons les dernieres venues
Les villages lointains sont comme les paupieres
Et parmi les citrons leurs coeurs sont suspendus
Mes amis m'ont enfin avoue leur mepris
Mes amis m'ont enfin avoue leur mepris
Je buvais a pleins verres les etoiles
Un ange a extermine pendant que je dormais
Les agneaux les pasteurs des tristes bergeries
De faux centurions emportaient le vinaigre
Et les gueux mal blesses par l'epurge dansaient
Etoiles de l'eveil je n'en connais aucune
Les becs de gaz pissaient leur flamme au clair de lune
Des croque-morts avec des bocks tintaient des glas
A la clarte des bougies tombaient vaille que vaille
Des faux cols sur les flots de jupes mal brossees
Des accouchees masquees fetaient leurs relevailles
La ville cette nuit semblait un archipel
Des femmes demandaient l'amour et la dulie
Et sombre sombre fleuve je me rappelle
Les ombres qui passaient n'etaient jamais jolies
Je n'ai plus meme pitie de moi
Je n'ai plus meme pitie de moi
Et ne puis exprimer mon tourment de silence
Tous les mots que j'avais a dire se sont changes en etoiles
Un Icare tente de s'elever jusqu'a chacun de mes yeux
Et porteur de soleils je brule au centre de deux nebuleuses
Qu'ai-je fait aux betes theologales de l'intelligence
Jadis les morts sont revenus pour m'adorer
Et j'esperais la fin du monde
Mais la mienne arrive en sifflant comme un ouragan
J'ai eu le courage de regarder en arriere
J'ai eu le courage de regarder en arriere
Les cadavres de mes jours
Marquent ma route et je les pleure
Les uns pourrissent dans les eglises italiennes
Ou bien dans de petits bois de citronniers
Qui fleurissent et fructifient
En meme temps et en toute saison
D'autres jours ont pleure avant de mourir dans des tavernes
Ou d'ardents bouquets rouaient
Aux yeux d'une mulatresse qui inventait la poesie
Et les roses de l'electricite s'ouvrent encore
Dans le jardin de ma memoire
Pardonnez-moi mon ignorance
Pardonnez-moi mon ignorance
Pardonnez-moi de ne plus connaitre l'ancien jeu des vers
Je ne sais plus rien et j'aime uniquement
Les fleurs a mes yeux redeviennent des flammes
Je medite divinement
Et je souris des etres que je n'ai pas crees
Mais si le temps venait ou l'ombre enfin solide
Se multipliait en realisant la diversite formelle de mon amour
J'admirerais mon ouvrage
J'observe le repos du dimanche
J'observe le repos du dimanche
Et je loue la paresse
Comment comment reduire
L'infiniment petite science
Que m'imposent mes sens
L'un est pareil aux montagnes au ciel
Aux villes a mon amour
Il ressemble aux saisons
Il vit decapite sa tete est le soleil
Et la lune son cou tranche
Je voudrais eprouver une ardeur infinie
Monstre de mon ouie tu rugis et tu pleures
Le tonnerre te sert de chevelure
Et tes griffes repetent le chant des oiseaux
Le toucher monstrueux m'a penetre m'empoisonne
Mes yeux nagent loin de moi
Et les astres intacts sont mes maitres sans epreuve
La bete des fumees a la tete fleurie
Et le monstre le plus beau
Ayant la saveur du laurier se desole
A la fin les mensonges ne me font plus peur
A la fin les mensonges ne me font plus peur
C'est la lune qui cuit comme un oeuf sur le plat
Ce collier de gouttes d'eau va parer la noyee
Voici mon bouquet de fleurs de la Passion
Qui offrent tendrement deux couronnes d'epines
Les rues sont mouillees de la pluie de naguere
Des anges diligents travaillent pour moi a la maison
La lune et la tristesse disparaitront pendant
Toute la sainte journee
Toute la sainte journee j'ai marche en chantant
Une dame penchee a sa fenetre m'a regarde longtemps
M'eloigner en chantant
Au tournant d'une rue je vis des matelots
Au tournant d'une rue je vis des matelots
Qui dansaient le cou nu au son d'un accordeon
J'ai tout donne au soleil
Tout sauf mon ombre
Les dragues les ballots les sirenes mi-mortes
A l'horizon brumeux s'enfoncaient les trois-mats
Les vents ont expire couronnes d'anemones
O Vierge signe pur du troisieme mois
Templiers flamboyants je brule parmi vous
Templiers flamboyants je brule parmi vous
Prophetisons ensemble o grand maitre je suis
Le desirable feu qui pour vous se devoue
Et la girande tourne o belle o belle nuit
Liens delies par une libre flamme Ardeur
Que mon souffle eteindra O Morts a quarantaine
Je mire de ma mort la gloire et le malheur
Comme si je visais l'oiseau de la quintaine
Incertitude oiseau feint peint quand vous tombiez
Le soleil et l'amour dansaient dans le village
Et tes enfants galants bien ou mal habilles
Ont bati ce bucher le nid de mon courage
CLAIR DE LUNE
Lune mellifluente aux levres des dements
Les vergers et les bourgs cette nuit sont gourmands
Les astres assez bien figurent les abeilles
De ce miel lumineux qui degoutte des treilles
Car voici que tout doux et leur tombant du ciel
Chaque rayon de lune est un rayon de miel
Or cache je concois la tres douce aventure
J'ai peur du dard de feu de cette abeille Arcture
Qui posa dans mes mains des rayons decevants
Et prit son miel lunaire a la rose des vents
1909
La dame avait une robe
En ottoman violine
Et sa tunique brodee d'or
Etait composee de deux panneaux
S'attachant sur l'epaule
Les yeux
dansants
comme des anges
Elle riait elle riait
Elle avait un visage aux couleurs de France
Les yeux bleus les dents blanches et les levres tres rouges
Elle avait un visage aux couleurs de France
Elle etait decolletee en rond
Et coiffee a la Recamier
Avec de beaux bras nus
N'entendra-t-on jamais sonner minuit
La dame en robe d'ottoman violine
Et en tunique brodee d'or
Decolletee en rond
Promenait ses boucles
Son bandeau d'or
Et trainait ses petits souliers a boucles
Elle etait si belle
Que tu n'aurais pas ose l'aimer
J'aimais les femmes atroces dans les quartiers enormes
Ou naissaient chaque jour quelques etres nouveaux
Le fer etait leur sang la flamme leur cerveau
J'aimais j'aimais le peuple habile des machines
Le luxe et la beaute ne sont que son ecume
Cette femme etait si belle
Qu'elle me faisait peur
A LA SANTE
I
Avant d'entrer dans ma cellule
Il a fallu me mettre nu
Et quelle voix sinistre ulule
Guillaume qu'es-tu devenu
Le Lazare entrant dans la tombe
Au lieu d'en sortir comme il fit
Adieu adieu chantante ronde
O mes annees o jeunes filles
II
Non je ne me sens plus la
Moi-meme
Je suis le quinze de la
Onzieme
Le soleil filtre a travers
Les vitres
Ses rayons font sur mes vers
Les pitres
Et dansent sur le papier
J'ecoute
Quelqu'un qui frappe du pied
La voute
III
Dans une fosse comme un ours
Chaque matin je me promene
Tournons tournons tournons toujours
Le ciel est bleu comme une chaine
Dans une fosse comme un ours
Chaque matin je me promene
Dans la cellule d'a cote
On y fait couler la fontaine
Avec les clefs qu'il fait tinter
Que le geolier aille et revienne
Dans la cellule d'a cote
On y fait couler la fontaine
IV
Que je m'ennuie entre ces murs tout nus
Et peints de couleurs pales
Une mouche sur le papier a pas menus
Parcourt mes lignes inegales
Que deviendrai-je o Dieu qui connais ma douleur
Toi qui me l'as donnee
Prends en pitie mes yeux sans larmes ma paleur
Le bruit de ma chaise enchainee
Et tous ces pauvres coeurs battant dans la prison
L'Amour qui m'accompagne
Prends en pitie surtout ma debile raison
Et ce desespoir qui me gagne
V
Que lentement passent les heures
Comme passe un enterrement
Tu pleureras l'heure ou tu pleures
Qui passera trop vitement
Comme passent toutes les heures
VI
J'ecoute les bruits de la ville
Et prisonnier sans horizon
Je ne vois rien qu'un ciel hostile
Et les murs nus de ma prison
Le jour s'en va voici que brule
Une lampe dans la prison
Nous sommes seuls dans ma cellule
Belle clarte Chere raison
Septembre 1911.
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French - Apollinaire - Alcools |
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Highbury
bore me.
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| Source: |
T.S. Eliot - The Waste Land |
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To
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| Source: |
Omar Khayyam - Rubaiyat |
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My path is not thy path, yet
together
we walk, hand
in hand.
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| Source: |
Khalil Gibran - Poems |
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