A favourite romantic poem - HeidenrösleinSah ein Knab' ein Röslein stehn, Röslein auf der Heiden, War so jung und morgenschön, Lief er schnell es nah zu sehn, Sah's mit vielen Freuden. Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot, Röslein auf der Heiden. Knabe sprach: "Ich breche dich, Röslein... See More »
Another of Robert’s conquestsSae flaxen were her ringlets, Her eyebrows of a darker hue, Bewitchingly o'er-arching Twa laughing een o' bonie blue. Her smiling, sae wyling, Wad make a wretch forget his woe! What pleasure, what treasure, Unto those rosy lips to grow! Such was my... See More »
Home Thoughts from AbroadO, TO be in England Now that April 's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In... See More » (+2)
Always love this poemTedd a kezed homlokomra, mintha kezed kezem volna. Úgy őrizz, mint ki gyilkolna, mintha éltem élted volna. Úgy szeress, mint ha jó volna, mintha szívem szíved volna. Jószef Attila My attempt at a free verse translation! Put your... See More »
More romantic poetryDu bist wie eine Blume, So hold und schön und rein; Ich schau’ dich an, und Wehmuth Schleicht mir in’s Herz hinein. Mir ist, als ob ich die Hände Auf’s Haupt dir legen sollt’, Betend, daß Gott dich erhalte So rein und schön und hold. Heinrich... See More »
Shakespeare sonnetYou can’t beat William for a good love poem. Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest... See More » (+1)
On the death of Marie - Pierre de RonsardRonsard was always writing poems to his lady loves who had rejected him (nearly all if them). This one written in 1555 mourns the death of Marie Dupin aged 30. Comme on voyst sur la branche au moys de May la rose En sa belle jeunesse, en sa premiere... See More » (+1)
The Hireling ShepherdA Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness— Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! Is Edward Fitzgerald’s rather romanticised version of the quatrain from the Rubaiyat of Omar... See More » (+1)
