February 24, 2024 12:26 am

POETRY

CONTEMPORARY INDIAN POETRY – K. Satchidanandan, poems

BURNT POEMS – I am a half-burnt poem. Yes, you guessed right, a girl’s love poem. Girls’ love poems have seldom escaped fire: father’s fire, brother’s fire, even mother’s, an heirloom. Only some girls half-escape: those half-charred ones, we call Sylvia Plath, Anna Akhmatova or Kamala Das. Some girls, to escape fire, hide their desire under the veil of piety: …

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CONTEMPORARY INDIAN POETRY – Adil Jussawalla, poems

HER SAFE HOUSE – Mother walking up a corridor with a stick, as frail as tissue paper, bunched on a stick. Moving up a corridor inch by inch, a hairball being pushed by a breeze, into her safe house, her sonless kitchen. BOMB SITE SEEN FROM A RAILWAY BRIDGE – As if the broken stumps were a girl’s starved shoulders: …

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THE ELEVENTH SONNET TO BEAUTY – Poetry, by Gerbrand Bredero

THE ELEVENTH SONNET TO BEAUTY O ripe bosom white that steadily before mine eyes, so dearly drifts, like the clear reflection, at the source of the Rhine of the purest snow. Ah but your shimmering, o weak eyes doth impair! With chaste milk appear there laden, two silver covers round, on top of both a ruby, which like small apples …

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THE SHIP OF FOOLS – Introduction, by Sebastian Brant

THE SHIP OF FOOLS, INTRODUCTION Knowledge of trouth, prudence, and iust symplicite hath vs clene left. For we set of them no store. Our Fayth is defyled loue, goodnes, and Pyte: honest maners nowe ar reputed of, no more. Lawyers ar lordes, but Justice is rent and tore. Or closed lyke a Monster within dores thre. For without mede, or …

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I LIVE UPON THIS WRETCHED SOLITARY CLIFF – Poetry, by Vittoria Colonna

I LIVE UPON THIS WRETCHED SOLITARY CLIFF I live upon this wretched solitary cliff, like a bird of sorrow that shuns green, branches and clear water: And withdraw, from my worldly loves, and my very self, so my thoughts may fly swiftly to that sun, I worship and adore. And though they fail, to spread their wings as I wish, …

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LOVE, I THANK YOU – Poetry, by Angelo Poliziano

LOVE, I THANK YOU For all my pain and torment, and I’m content, for every sorrow. I’m content for all I’ve suffered, Lord, in your lovely kingdom: For, without merit, by your mercy, so great a pledge you’ve granted me, since you’ve made me worthy, of a smile so blessed, my heart it’s carried, to Heaven above. I thank you, …

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I HAVE PLACED MY HEART – Poetry, by Jacopo da Lentini

I HAVE PLACED MY HEART I have placed my heart in God’s service, so that I might ascend to Heaven, to the holy place where I have heard, there’s always laughter, joy and fun: I’d not want to go without my Lady, of the clear brow, and golden hair, without her I could never be happy, separated from my Lady …

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POEMS OF LOVE THROUGH THE CENTURIES – Eduard Morike: Pilgrim

PILGRIM The faithful mirror of those dark eyes, the interior retains a golden reflection. It seems that it draws from the deep chest, the light therein placed by grief. And you invite me, innocent girl, to dive in that your nighttime look. You want me to turn on you, and me with you, the crazy love, and in the cup …

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POEMS OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE – Matteo Maria Boiardo: The birds

THE BIRDS The singing of the birds in frond frond, and the fragrant wind in the flowers, and lighten transparencies languor, which make our lives more joyful, because they are the Nature and Heaven favors her, that the world wants to fall in love. So, sweet voices and sweet smells, the air, the earth and the waves are already filled. …

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POEMS OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE – Pietro Bembo: The golden hair

THE GOLDEN HAIR Golden hair and clear and pure amber, which has the aura sways on snow and flies. Gentle eyes and clearer than the sun, to do the dark night a clear day, it could dispel any rough and hard sorrow. Rubies and pearls, where words come out so sweet, that no other good soul wants. Ivory hands, which …

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