Sonnets & Poems

[Manon]

One day I wrote her name upon the strand

One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
Vain man, said she, that dost in vain assay
A mortal thing so to immortalize!
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eek my name be wiped out likewise.
Not so (quoth I), let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your virtues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name;
Where, whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew.

Edmund Spenser

[Manon]

The Good Morrow

I wonder by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved ? were we not wean'd till then ?
But suck'd on country pleasures, childishly ?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers' den ?
'Twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ;
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.

And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear ;
For love all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone ;
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown ;
Let us possess one world ; each hath one, and is one.

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest ;
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without declining west ?
Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally ;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike that none can slacken, none can die.

John Donne

[Manon]

The Flea

Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.

O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me,
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.

John Donne

[il_bilge]

CXLIII

Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
One of her feathered creatures broke away,
Sets down her babe, and makes all swift dispatch
In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;
Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent
To follow that which flies before her face,
Not prizing her poor infant's discontent:
So runn'st thou after that which flies from thee,
Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
And play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind;
So will I pray that thou mayst have thy "Will",
If thou turn back and my loud crying still.

William SHAKESPEARE, (ca.1600)

[il_bilge]

Sonnet XIV

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
I love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of ease on such a day--
For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may
Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheek dry,--
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

[il_bilge]

With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood.
And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good
Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.

Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
Under the other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.

From Venus and Adonis
William SHAKESPEARE [1593]

[orkhun]

the worldly hope men set their hearts upon,
turns ashes or it prospers; and anon,
like snow upon the desert's dusty face,
lighting a little hour or two is gone.

omar khayyam

[seha]

Still I Rise

you may write me down in history
with your bitter, twisted lies,
you may trod me in the very dirt
but still, like dust, i'll rise.

does my sassiness upset you?
why are you beset with gloom?
'cause i walk like i've got oil wells
pumping in my living room.

just like moons and like suns,
with the certainty of tides,
just like hopes springing high,
still i'll rise.

did you want to see me broken?
bowed head and lowered eyes?
shoulders falling down like teardrops,
weakened by my soulful cries?

does my haughtiness offend you?
don't you take it awful hard
'cause i laugh like i've got gold mines
diggin' in my own backyard.

you may shoot me with your words,
you may cut me with your eyes,
you may kill me with your hatefulness,
but still, like air, i'll rise.

does my sexiness upset you?
does it come as a surprise
that i dance like i've got diamonds
at the meeting of my thighs?

out of the huts of history's shame
i rise
up from a past that's rooted in pain
i rise
i'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
welling and swelling i bear in the tide.

leaving behind nights of terror and fear
i rise
into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
i rise
bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
i am the dream and the hope of the slave.
i rise
i rise
i rise.

Maya Angelou

[il_bilge]

A Clear Midnight

This is thy hour o'soul
thy free flight into the wordless,
away from day, away from art, the day erased
the lesson done
thou fully forth emerging,
silent, gazing,
pondering the themes thou lovest best,
night, sleep, death and the stars...

Walt Whitman

(this is my favorite)

[il_bilge]

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

e.e.cummings