Cold night: the wild duck (Matsuo Basho Poem)
Cold night: the wild duck, sick, falls from the sky and sleeps awhile. (Matsuo Basho)
Cold night: the wild duck, sick, falls from the sky and sleeps awhile. (Matsuo Basho)
'Twas after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede - Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to ...
I My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have ...
And thou wert sad-yet I was not with thee! And thou wert sick, and yet I was not near; Methought ...
This is the lay of Ike. Here's to the glory of the Grewt Whiteâ?"awkâ?" who has been runningâ?"erâ?"erâ?"things in recentâ?"echâ?" ...
There were strange gatherings. A vote would come that would be no vote. There would come a rope. Yes. There ...
Sick at 6 & sick again at 9 was Henry's gloomy Monday morning oh. Still he had to lecture. They ...
O SWARMING city, city full of dreams, Where in a full day the spectre walks and speaks; Mighty colossus, in ...
I'M like some king in whose corrupted veins Flows ag?d blood; who rules a land of rains; Who, young in ...
Karshish, the picker-up of learning's crumbs, The not-incurious in God's handiwork (This man's-flesh he hath admirably made, Blown like a ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
I. My first thought was, he lied in every word, That hoary cripple, with malicious eye Askance to watch the ...
I. I said---Then, dearest, since 'tis so, Since now at length my fate I know, Since nothing all my love ...
I That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers, And the blue eye Dear and dewy, And that infantine fresh air of hers! ...
DUNCAN GRAY cam' here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o't, On blythe Yule-night when we were fou, Ha, ha, ...
she's young, she said, but look at me, I have pretty ankles, and look at my wrists, I have pretty ...
I am too big. Too big by far. Pity me. My eyes bulge and hurt. They are my one great ...
some say we should keep personal remorse from the poem, stay abstract, and there is some reason in this, but ...
I A washing hangs upon the line, but it's not mine. None of the things that I can see belong ...
Here on the pale beach, in the darkness; With the full moon just to rise; They sit alone, and look ...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
As evening falls, And the yellow lights leap one by one Along high walls; And along black streets that glisten ...
She turned her head on the pillow, and cried once more. And drawing a shaken breath, and closing her eyes, ...
Doleful was the land, Dull on, every side, Neither soft n'or grand, Barren, bleak, and wide; Nothing look'd with love; ...
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as ...
Once upon a time, in the land of Hush-A-Bye, Around about the wondrous days of yore, They came across a ...
Here is my gift, not roses on your grave, not sticks of burning incense. You lived aloof, maintaining to the ...
Twenty-first. Night. Monday. Silhouette of the capitol in darkness. Some good-for-nothing -- who knows why -- made up the tale ...
Yad Mordechai. Those who fell here still look out the windows like sick children who are not allowed outside to ...
Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow ...
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