Poetry
(translated by Annemarie S. Kidder) I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour.
— Rainer Maria Rilke · I Am Much Too Alone
there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going
— Charles Bukowski · Bluebird
But there are times the pupils of his eyes Dilate, the strong limbs stand alert, apart, Tense with the flood of visions that arise Only to sink and die within his heart.
— Rainer Maria Rilke · The Panther
The Guitar The weeping of the guitar begins. The goblets of dawn are smashed. The weeping of the guitar begins. Useless to silence it. Impossible to silence it. It weeps monotonously as water weeps as the wind weeps over snowfields. Impossible to silence it. It weeps for distant…
— Federico Garcia Lorca · La Guitarra (The Guitar)
Defeat, my Defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance, Through you I know that I am yet young and swift of foot And not to be trapped by withering laurels. And in you I have found aloneness And the joy of being shunned and scorned.
— Kahlil Gibran · Defeat
It feels like smoke curling up from a cigarette someone left burning on a baby grand piano around three o’clock in the morning; smoke that billows up into the bright lights
— Billy Collins · Nightclub
Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire.
— Robert Frost · Fire and Ice
You know i've either had a family a job something has always been in the way but now i've sold my house
— Charles Bukowski · Creativity
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting
— Mary Oliver · The Journey
you shall above all things be glad and young For if you’re young,whatever life you wear it will become you;and if you are glad whatever’s living will yourself become.
— e.e. cummings · [you shall above all things be glad]
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
— Edna St. Vincent Millay · What Lips My Lips Have Kissed
Waking alone At the hour when we are Trembling with tenderness Lips that would kiss Form prayers to broken stone.
— T.S. Eliot · The Hollow Men
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
— Mary Oliver · When I Am Among The Trees
Rhyme XI —I am ardent, I am dark-skinned, I am the symbol of passion, my soul is filled with longing for pleasures. Are you looking for me? —No, it’s not you. —My forehead is pale, my tresses golden: I can offer you endless joys, I hold a treasure of tenderness. Are you calling…
— Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer · Rima XI (Rhyme XI)
my love, don't let your skin become so thick that
— John Roedel · My Love
And if I loved you Wednesday, Well, what is that to you? I do not love you Thursday— So much is true.
— Edna St. Vincent Millay · Thursday
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
— Robert Frost · Stopping by Woods on a Snowy…
(translated by Robert Bly) I can tell by the way the trees beat, after so many dull days, on my worried window panes that a storm is coming,
— Rainer Maria Rilke · The Man Watching
(Keeping Quiet) Translated by Stephen Mitchell Now we will all count to twelve and we will all keep still. This one time upon the earth, let’s not speak any language, let’s stop for one second, and not move our arms so much. It would be a delicious moment, without hurry, without…
— Pablo Neruda · A Callarse (Keeping Quiet)
What’s madness but nobility of soul At odds with circumstance? The day’s on fire\! I know the purity of pure despair, My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.
— Theodore Roethke · In a Dark Time
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