Meeting (Boris Pasternak Poems)
The snow will dust the roadway,And load the roofs still more.I'll stretch my legs a little:You're there outside the door.Autumn, ...
The snow will dust the roadway,And load the roofs still more.I'll stretch my legs a little:You're there outside the door.Autumn, ...
When there's good health In the house, there is laughter everywhere,And the skies are bright and sunny and the roads ...
These, then, he left, and away where ranks were now clashing the thickest,Onward rushed, and with ...
There is the caw of a crow,And the hesitant song of a thrush.There is the tinkle of a cowbell far ...
The fields were bleak and sodden. Not a wingOr note enlivened the depressing wood,A soiled and sullen, stubborn snowdrift stoodBeside ...
Here's a meadow full of sunshine Ripe grasses lush and high; There's a reaper on the roadway, And a lark ...
Snow fell on winter gardens,a coffin was brought outand the standards unfoldedcaught by the dishevelled breeze.The roadway was desolate,without form ...
Spread on the roadway, With open-blown jackets, Like black, soaring pinions, They swoop down the hillside, The Cyclists. Seeming dark-plumaged ...
Hold hard, Ned! Lift me down once more, and lay me in the shade. Old man, you've had your work ...
Ablaze this morning looking out my window the sun coming down burning off the clouds the roadway beyond through the ...
The road narrowed, lost its freshness shoulders closing in as we drove from the city up into the country away ...
Like a human version, a young human version, of the famous jumping frog Calaveras County, or some other locale she ...
Anastasia and the sad snow falling a toiling sky and a long white line of hills a distant birthplace short ...
All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, The cry of a child by the roadway, the ...
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles ...
Tracks of rain and light linger in the spongy greens of a nature whose flickering mountain-bulging nearer, ebbing back into ...
I SHALL foot it Down the roadway in the dusk, Where shapes of hunger wander And the fugitives of pain ...
As we the withered ferns By the roadway lying, Time, the jester, spurns All our prayers and prying -- All ...
Bonnie Kilmany, in the County of Fife, Is a healthy spot to reside in to lengthen one's life. The scenery ...
Under yonder beech-tree single on the green-sward, Couched with her arms behind her golden head, Knees and tresses folded to ...
There is the caw of a crow, And the hesitant song of a thrush. There is the tinkle of a ...
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