A Play of words, poetry in motion
Spleen IV Poem ………………. by Charles Baudelaire _______________________________________________________________________________________ Quand le ciel bas et lourd pﾊse comme un couvercleSur l’esprit gﾂmissant en proie aux longs ennuis,Et que de l’horizon embrassant tout le cercleIl nous verse un jour noir plus triste que les nuits; Quand la terre est changﾂe en un cachot humide,Oﾗ l’espﾂrance, comme un chauve-souris,S’en va … Read more…
Substitution Poem ………………. by Elizabeth Barrett Browning _______________________________________________________________________________________ WHEN some beloved voice that was to youBoth sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,And silence, against which you dare not cry,Aches round you like a strong disease and new–What hope ? what help ? what music will undoThat silence to your sense ? Not friendship’s sigh,Not reason’s subtle count; … Read more…
Tears Poem ………………. by Elizabeth Barrett Browning _______________________________________________________________________________________ THANK God, bless God, all ye who suffer notMore grief than ye can weep for. That is well–That is light grieving ! lighter, none befellSince Adam forfeited the primal lot. Tears ! what are tears ? The babe weeps in its cot,The mother singing, at her marriage-bellThe bride … Read more…
The Albatross Poem ………………. by Charles Baudelaire _______________________________________________________________________________________ Often, to amuse themselves, the crew of the shipWould fell an albatross, the largest of sea birds,Indolent companions of their tripAs they slide across the deep sea’s bitters. Scarcely had they dropped to the plankThan these blue kings, maladroit and ashamedLet their great white wings sinkLike an oar … Read more…
The Autumn Poem ………………. by Elizabeth Barrett Browning _______________________________________________________________________________________ Go, sit upon the lofty hill,And turn your eyes around,Where waving woods and waters wildDo hymn an autumn sound. The summer sun is faint on them —The summer flowers depart —Sit still — as all transform’d to stone,Except your musing heart. How there you sat in summer-time,May … Read more…
The Bad Monk Poem ………………. by Charles Baudelaire _______________________________________________________________________________________ On the great walls of ancient cloisters were nailedMurals displaying Truth the saint,Whose effect, reheating the pious entrailsBrought to an austere chill a warming paint. In the times when Christ was seeded around,More than one illustrious monk, today unknownTook for a studio the funeral groundsAnd glorified Death … Read more…
The Best Thing In The World Poem ………………. by Elizabeth Barrett Browning _______________________________________________________________________________________ What’s the best thing in the world? June-rose, by May-dew impearled; Sweet south-wind, that means no rain; Truth, not cruel to a friend; Pleasure, not in haste to end; Beauty, not self-decked and curled Till its pride is over-plain; Light, that never makes … Read more…
The Cry Of The Children Poem ………………. by Elizabeth Barrett Browning _______________________________________________________________________________________ Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,Ere the sorrow comes with years?They are leaning their young heads against their mothers,And that cannot stop their tears. The young lambs are bleating in the meadows,The young birds are chirping in the nest,The young fawns … Read more…
THE DANCE OF DEATH Poem ………………. by Charles Baudelaire _______________________________________________________________________________________ CARRYING bouquet, and handkerchief, and gloves, Proud of her height as when she lived, she moves With all the careless and high-stepping grace, And the extravagant courtesan’s thin face. Was slimmer waist e’er in a ball-room wooed? Her floating robe, in royal amplitude, Falls in deep … Read more…
The Enemy Poem ………………. by Charles Baudelaire _______________________________________________________________________________________ My youth was nothing but a black stormCrossed now and then by brilliant suns. The thunder and the rain so ravage the shoresNothing’s left of the fruit my garden held once. I should employ the rake and the plow,Having reached the autumn of ideas,To restore this inundated groundWhere … Read more…