All Poems
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Nannie Braw
© George MacDonald
I like ye weel upo Sundays, Nannie,
I' yer goon and yer ribbons and a';
But I like ye better on Mondays, Nannie,
Whan ye're no sae buskit and braw.
Give Me Back My Rags #1
© Vasko Popa
My rags of pure dreaming
Of silk smiling of striped foreboding
Of my cloth of lace
Give Me Back My Rags
© Vasko Popa
Just come to my mind
My thoughts will scratch out your faceJust come into my sight
My eyes will start snarling at youJust open your mouth
My silence will smash your jawsJust remind me of you
The Serenade
© William Cullen Bryant
If slumber, sweet Lisena!
Have stolen o'er thine eyes,
As night steals o'er the glory
Of spring's transparent skies;
Between Games
© Vasko Popa
This one turns into an ear
He hears all that won't let itself be heard
But he grows bored
Yearns to turn again into himself
But without eyes he can't see how
Phantasy
© George Meredith
Within a Temple of the Toes,
Where twirled the passionate Wili,
I saw full many a market rose,
And sighed for my village lily.
Anne Pennington
© Vasko Popa
Until her last breath she enlarges
Her Oxford house
Built in Slavonic
Vowels and consonants
The Storm
© Sara Teasdale
I THOUGHT of you when I was wakened
By a wind that made me glad and afraid
Of the rushing, pouring sound of the sea
That the great trees made.
Give Me Back My Rags #11
© Vasko Popa
I've wiped your face off my face
Ripped your shadow off my shadowLeveled the hills in you
Turned your plains into hillsSet your seasons quarreling
Turned all the ends of the world from youWrapped the path of my life around you
Give Me Back My Rags #12
© Vasko Popa
Enough chattering violets enough sweet trash
I won't hear anything know anything
Enough enough of all
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Sixth
© William Wordsworth
WHY comes not Francis?--From the doleful City
He fled,--and, in his flight, could hear
The death-sounds of the Minster-bell:
That sullen stroke pronounced farewell
A Birthday Present
© Alfred Austin
```Say what, to please you, you would have me be.''
Then listen, dear!
I fain would have you very fair to see,
And sweet to hear.
The Admirers Of The Little Box
© Vasko Popa
In your four-sided emptiness
We turn distance into nearness
Forgetfulness into memory
The Prisoners Of The Little Box
© Vasko Popa
The whole world lies crumpted in you
It resembles everything
Except itself
The Speeches of Sloth and Virtue
© William Shenstone
[Upon the Plan of Xenophen's Judgment of Hercules]
SLOTH
The Craftsmen Of The Little Box
© Vasko Popa
Don't open the little box
Heaven's hat will fall out of her Don't close her for any reason
She'll bite the trouser-leg of eternity Don't drop her on the earth
The sun's eggs will break inside her Don't throw her in the air
