The Kalevala – Rune XLVIII (Elias Lonnrot Poems)
CAPTURE OF THE FIRE-FISH.Wainamoinen, the enchanter,The eternal wisdom-singer,Long reflected, well considered,How to weave the net of flax-yarn,Weave the fish-net of ...
CAPTURE OF THE FIRE-FISH.Wainamoinen, the enchanter,The eternal wisdom-singer,Long reflected, well considered,How to weave the net of flax-yarn,Weave the fish-net of ...
THE UNWELCOME GUEST.I have brought young Kaukomieli,Brought the Islander and hero,Also known as Lemminkainen,Through the jaws of death and ruin,Through ...
O, ye have lost, Mountains, and moors, and meads, the radiant throng That peopled your green solitudes, and filled The ...
(With respectful reference to the admirable exploit of PettyOfficer Alan Baker, of L .B .V. 37)The Bluebell was a lighter, ...
Of all the fountains that poets sing,--Crystal, thermal, or mineral spring,Ponce de Leon's Fount of Youth,Wells with bottoms of doubtful ...
Where the dark ash upward towereth,And the maple drops her brown shade,And the rough oak spreads his broad arms,And the ...
Luke Gale, the larrikin lad, dwelt in Larrikin Lane, A low street, a by-street, right at the edge of the ...
She was nothin' much to look at, that there old fleabitten gray.She'd a cranky disposition, but you liked her any ...
It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went, For you sought the greener patches and you travelled ...
While the far farewell music thins and fails, And the broad bottoms rip the bearing brine - All smalling slowly ...
to the seaside to the seaside to the change and peace of mind to the easy la- zy holiday the ...
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma ...
I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach before stepping onto the first wave. Soon I am walking ...
I've been going right on, page by page, since we last kissed, two long dolls in a cage, two hunger-mongers ...
They did not expect this. Being neither wise nor brave And wearing only the beauty of youth's season They took ...
Some ghosts are women, neither abstract nor pale, their breasts as limp as killed fish. Not witches, but ghosts who ...
DRUM on your drums, batter on your banjoes, sob on the long cool winding saxophones. Go to it, O jazzmen. ...
THE BALLOONS hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens. They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and ...
In Saginaw, in Saginaw, The wind blows up your feet, When the ladies' guild puts on a feed, There's beans ...
Behold the duck. It does not cluck. A cluck it lacks. It quacks. It is specially fond Of a puddle ...
As I stood upon the sandy beach One morn near Pentland Ferry, I saw a beautiful brigantine, And all her ...
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