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Poesie : in lingua inglese poesie > in lingua inglese

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War is no strife To the dark house and the detested wife

Shakespeare

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spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta

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Flapper

Love has crept out of her sealèd heart
As a field-bee, black and amber,
Breaks from winter-cell, to clamber
Up the warm grass where the sumbeams start.

Mischief has come in her dawning eyes,
And a glint of coloured iris brings
Such as lies along the folded wings
Of the bee before he flies.

Who, with a ruffling, careful breath,
Has opened the wings of the wild young sprite?
Has fluttered her spirit to stumbling flight
In her eyes, as a young bee stumbleth?

Love makes the burden of her voice.
The hum of his heavy, staggering wings
Sets quivering with wisdom the common things
That she says, and her words rejoice.

David Herbert Lawrence

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spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta

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Jacob Goodpasture

When Fort Sumter fell and the war came
I cried out in bitterness of soul:
“O glorious republic now no more!”
When they buried my soldier son
To the call of trumpets and the sound of drums
My heart broke beneath the weight
Of eighty years, and I cried:
“Oh, son who died in a cause unjust!
In the strife of Freedom slain!”
And I crept here under the grass.
And now from the battlements of time, behold:
Thrice thirty million souls being bound together:
In the love of larger truth,
Rapt in the expectation of the birth
Of a new Beauty,
Sprung from Brotherhood and Wisdom.
I with eyes of spirit see the Transfiguration
Before you sec it.
But ye infinite brood of golden eagles nesting ever higher,
Wheeling ever higher, the sun-light wooing
Of lofty places of Thought,
Forgive the blindness of the departed owl.

Edgar Lee Masters

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spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta

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Children

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said,
"Speak to us of Children."
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for
itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to
you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which
you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make
them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living
arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may
go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves
also the bow that is stable.

Kahlil Gibran

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spedisci salva scarica sposta elimina brutta non male bella commenta

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To furnish a ship requireth much trouble, But to furnish a woman the charges are double

John Manningham

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