The Country (Ivan Turgenev Poems)
The last day of July; for a thousand versts around, Russia, our nativeland.An unbroken blue flooding the whole sky; a ...
The last day of July; for a thousand versts around, Russia, our nativeland.An unbroken blue flooding the whole sky; a ...
Perspective never withers from their eyes;They keep that docile edict of the SpringThat blends March with August Antarctic skies:These are ...
IF, as they tell in stories old, The waters of Pactolus roll'd Over a sand of shifting gold; If ever ...
Angelsraped in the defiledTrinitarian churchmaybe Autumn's dawn, her golden reflections,will color your wings.Angels above niches and windowsstill gliding across the ...
Eastwards through busy streets I lingered on;Jostled by anxious crowds, who, heart and brain,Were so absorbed in dreams of Mammon-gain,That ...
One time more, my love, the net of light extinguisheswork, wheels, flames, boredoms and farewells,and we surrender the swaying wheat ...
The chalice was suspended in the airLike the golden sun for a splendid moment.Here only Greek should be heard:To take ...
"She passed away, and was interred by JacobBeside the road…" And on the tomb, no sightOf any name, inscription and ...
GENOA, 1872Two sunny winter days I sped alongThe Riviera's winding mountain way;Scarcely I caught the blue sea's faint far song,By ...
A youth, impelled by a burning thirst for knowledgeTo roam to Sais, in fair Egypt's land,The priesthood's secret learning to ...
From Hugo's 'Feuilles d'Automne'.I love the evenings, passionless and fair, I love the evens,Whether old manor-fronts their ray with golden ...
From this windy bridge at rest,In some former curious hour,We have watched the city's hue,All along the orange west,Cupola and ...
I've sung of Honor's golden hair And Hero's auburn tresses,Of Bella's back abundance, where The sun throws his ...
A girl was singing in a church choirOf the weary people on foreign soil,Of all the ships that sailed aspired,Of ...
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from ...
I love the evenings, passionless and fair, I love the evens, Whether old manor-fronts their ray with golden fulgence leavens, ...
Shall I move the flowers again? Shall I put them further to the left into the light? Win that fix ...
I have enough treasures from the past to last me longer than I need, or want. You know as well ...
I would build a cloudy House For my thoughts to live in; When for earth too fancy-loose And too low ...
A youth, impelled by a burning thirst for knowledge To roam to Sais, in fair Egypt's land, The priesthood's secret ...
The artichoke of delicate heart erect in its battle-dress, builds its minimal cupola; keeps stark in its scallop of scales. ...
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