• George Gordon Byron - Lord Byron

    She walks in Beauty

    SHE walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that ‘s best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellow’d to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less,Had half impair’d the nameless graceWhich waves in…

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    A Prayer for My Children

    When you find yourself in a faraway landsurrounded by men, animals that mutter strangesounds, do not be afraid: neither you, your parents, nor your ancestors have ever been alone.So trust the earth to bear you up, followthe wind as it leads you through valleys clustered with trees heavy with fruit…

  • Paul Eluard

    Air Vif

    J’ai regardé devant moiDans la foule je t’ai vueParmi les blés je t’ai vueSous un arbre je t’ai vue Au bout de tous mes voyagesAu fond de tous mes tourmentsAu tournant de tous les riresSortant de l’eau et du feu L’été l’hiver je t’ai vueDans ma maison je t’ai vueEntre…

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    Song From Heine

    I scanned her picture dreaming,Till each dear line and hueWas imaged, to my seeming,As if it lived anew. Her lips began to borrowTheir former wondrous smile;Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,Grew sparkling as erstwhile. Such tears as often ran notRan then, my love, for thee;And O, believe I cannotThat thou…

  • William Lisle Bowles

    The Butterfly And The Bee

    Methought I heard a butterflySay to a labouring bee,Thou hast no colours of the skyOn painted wings, like me. Poor child of vanity! those dyes,And colours bright and rare,With mild reproof, the bee replies,Are all beneath my care. Content I toil from morn till eve,And, scorning idleness,To tribes of gawdy…

  • Sarojini Naidu

    Autumn Song

    Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,The sunset hangs on a cloud;A golden storm of glittering sheaves,Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,The wild wind blows in a cloud. Hark to a voice that is callingTo my heart in the voice of the wind:My heart is weary and…

  • Alfred Lord Tennyson

    The Brook

    Alfred Lord Tennyson (England 1809 – 1892) I come from haunts of coot and hern,I make a sudden sallyAnd sparkle out among the fern,To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down,Or slip between the ridges,By twenty thorpes, a little town,And half a hundred bridges. Till last by…

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    I Live, I Die, I Burn, I Drown

    I live, I die, I burn, I drownI endure at once chill and coldLife is at once too soft and too hardI have sore troubles mingled with joys Suddenly I laugh and at the same time cryAnd in pleasure many a grief endureMy happiness wanes and yet it lasts unchangedAll…

  • Emily Dickinson

    “Nature” is what we see

    “Nature” is what we see—The Hill—the Afternoon—Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee—Nay—Nature is Heaven—Nature is what we hear—The Bobolink—the Sea—Thunder—the Cricket—Nay—Nature is Harmony—Nature is what we know—Yet have no art to say—So impotent Our Wisdom isTo her Simplicity. Emily Dickinson    

  • G Mend-Ooyo

    Ma mélodie de soi

    Ma steppe s’écoutait au fil du temps,Elle attendait quelqu’un qui guette un moment passé.Quand la lumière et l’ombre se joignirent et se quittèrentElle soupirait en douce, impatiente et paisible jusqu’à l’éveil. A ce moment suave où je vins en elleBlatérait une mélodie-chamelle,Le vent des crêtes m’envoyait des chants d’oiseaux :C’est…