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Poesie : in lingua inglese poesie > in lingua inglese

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Baffled for just a day or two

Baffled for just a day or two
Embarrassed not afraid
Encounter in my garden
An unexpected Maid.

She beckons, and the woods start
She nods, and all begin
Surely, such a country
I was never in!

Emily Dickinson

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I fear'd the fury of my mind

I fear'd the fury of my mind
Would blight all blossoms fair & true,
And my sun it shin'd & shin'd,
And my wind it never blew.

But a blossom fair or true
Was not found on any tree,
For all blossoms grew e grew
Fruitless false, tho' fair to see.

William Blake

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The Way Through the Woods

They shut the mad through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Wrather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.

Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You wil hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods...
But there is no road through the woods!

Joseph Rudyard Kipling

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Love in the Asylum

A stranger has come
To share my room in the house not right in the head,
A girl mad as birds

Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume.
Strait in the mazed bed
She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds

Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room,
At large as the dead,
Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.

She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall,
Possessed by the skies

She sleeps in the narrow trough yet she walks the dust
Yet raves at her will
On the madhouse boards worn thin by my walking tears.

And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.

Dylan Thomas

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Our share of night to bear

Our share of night to bear
Our share of morning
Our blank in bliss to fill
Our blank in scorning

Here a star, and there a star,
Some lose their way!
Here a mist, and there a mist,
Afterwards Day!

Emily Dickinson

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