A Man In His Life (Yehuda Amichai Poem)
A man doesn't have time in his life to have time for everything. He doesn't have seasons enough to have ...
A man doesn't have time in his life to have time for everything. He doesn't have seasons enough to have ...
Once a great love cut my life in two. The first part goes on twisting at some other place like ...
Far, far from here, The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay Among the green Illyrian hills; and there The sunshine ...
'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd, Not for the thousands whom my father slew, Altars unfed and temples ...
The Master stood upon the mount, and taught. He saw a fire in his disciples' eyes; 'The old law', they ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
Hark! ah, the nightingale- The tawny-throated! Hark, from that moonlit cedar what a burst! What triumph! hark!-what pain! O wanderer ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? ...
Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes! No longer leave thy ...
The moment when, after many years of hard work and a long voyage you stand in the centre of your ...
In the secular night you wander around alone in your house. It's two-thirty. Everyone has deserted you, or this is ...
There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only the wind changing to the east, it is only your ...
The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been ...
Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy HANDS bunched on layered hips Where bones idle under years of fatback And lima ...
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs, Rotting ...
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the street. Wino ...
Ah, my beloved, fill the cup that clears Today of past regrets and future fears; Tomorrow? Why, tomorrow I may ...
We are resolved into the supreme air, We are made one with what we touch and see, With our heart’s ...
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