Homeland (Antanas Venclova Poems)
I was born in the land where the Nemunas meanders,Where amber is cast by the sea on the sand,In the ...
I was born in the land where the Nemunas meanders,Where amber is cast by the sea on the sand,In the ...
Nor wish, nor fondly seek to know What Fate denies to human Kind:Misfortunes more severe wou'd grow, If what we ...
There's a bump on his brow and a smear on his cheek That is plainly the stain of his tears;At ...
Anna was always full of thought As if she'd many sorrows known,Yet mostly her full heart was fraught With troubles ...
As beautiful Kitty one morning was trippingWith a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine,When she saw ...
When flow'rs o'er which the sun-light plays,In summer's bright, and glorious days,Have left each stem which bore their bloom,And made ...
The church flings forth a battled shade Over the moon-blanched sward: The church; my gift; whereto I paid My all ...
WHAT various ways in which a thing is told Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold; In stories we invention ...
NEAR Rome, of yore, close to the Florence road, Was seen a humble innkeeper's abode; Small sums were charged; few ...
TO charms and philters, secret spells and prayers, How many round attribute all their cares! In these howe'er I never ...
IN Lombardy's fair land, in days of yore, Once dwelt a prince, of youthful charms, a store; Each FAIR, with ...
Melissa: I've still rever'd your Order as Divine; And when I see unblemish'd Virtue ...
Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon, With the old Moon in her arms ; And I fear, I ...
ADMIRING Nature in her wildest grace, These northern scenes with weary feet I trace; O'er many a winding dale and ...
WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw, An' bar the doors wi' driving snaw, An' hing us owre the ingle, I ...
THERE 1 was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatna day o' whatna style, I doubt it's hardly worth ...
1 SINGING my days, Singing the great achievements of the present, Singing the strong, light works of engineers, Our modern ...
It is an old story, the way it happens sometimes in winter, sometimes not. The listener falls to sleep, the ...
The poker lost, poor Susan storm'd, And all the rites of rage perform'd; As scolding, crying, swearing, sweating, Abusing, fidgetting, ...
'Twas in the year of 1746, on a fine summer afternoon, When trees and flowers were in full bloom, That ...
There lived in Munich a poor, weakly youth, But for the exact date, I cannot vouch for the truth, And ...
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