All Poems

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© Vladimir Mayakovsky

Thoughts, go your way home.
Embrace,
depths of the soul and the sea.
In my view,

Where a Roman Villa Stood, Above Freiburg

© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

On alien ground, breathing an alien air,
A Roman stood, far from his ancient home,
And gazing, murmured,
"Ah, the hills are fair, But not the hills of Rome!"

You

© Vladimir Mayakovsky

You came
determined,
because I was large,
because I was roaring,

Summum Bonum

© Peter McArthur

HOW blest is he that can but love and do

And has no skill of speech nor trick of art

Attitude To A Miss

© Vladimir Mayakovsky

That night was to decide
if she and I
were to be lovers.
Under cover

Poemes Saturniens - Prologue

© Paul Verlaine

The Sages of old time, well worth our own,

Believed--and it has been disproved by none--

Call To Account!

© Vladimir Mayakovsky

The drum of war thunders and thunders.
It calls: thrust iron into the living.
From every country
slave after slave

My God And My Lord

© Rabia al Basri

Eyes are at rest, the stars are setting.
Hushed are the stirrings of birds in their nests,
Of monsters in the ocean.

Our March

© Vladimir Mayakovsky

Beat the squares with the tramp of rebels!
Higher, rangers of haughty heads!
We'll wash the world with a second deluge,
Nows the hour whose coming it dreads.

Jack and Joan

© Thomas Campion

Jack and Joan they think no ill,

But loving live, and merry still;

To All and Everything

© Vladimir Mayakovsky

Above the capitals madness
I raised my face,
stern as the faces of ancient icons.
Sorrow-rent,
on your body as on a death-bed, its days
my heart ended.

Liberty To M. Le Diplomate

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

Thou fool who treatest with the sword, and not

With the strong arm that wields it! Thou insane

Love's Enchantment

© Marian Osborne

AS when two children, hand clasped fast in hand,

Explore the dimness of a fairy bower

Remords Posthume (Posthumous Remorse)

© Charles Baudelaire

Lorsque tu dormiras, ma belle ténébreuse,
Au fond d'un monument construit en marbre noir,
Et lorsque tu n'auras pour alcôve et manoir
Qu'un caveau pluvieux et qu'une fosse creuse;

The First Part: Sonnet 3 - Ye who so curiously do paint your thoughts,

Ye who so curiously do paint your thoughts,

Enlight'ning ev'ry line in such a guise,

The Plot Against the Giant

Second Girl
I shall run before him,
Arching cloths besprinkled with colors
As small as fish-eggs.
The threads
Will abash him.

How Rudeness And Kindness Were Justly Rewarded

The Moral of the tale is: Bah!
Nous avons change tout cela.
No clear idea I hope to strike
Of what our nicest girl is like,
But she whose best young man I am
Is not an oyster, nor a clam!

Spring - The First Pastoral ; or Damon

Daphnis.
O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize,
And make my tongue victorious as her eyes;
No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart,
Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart.

Six O'clock In Princes Street

© Wilfred Owen

In twos and threes, they have not far to roam,
Crowds that thread eastward, gay of eyes;
Those seek no further than their quiet home,
Wives, walking westward, slow and wise.