Literature

Color is the place where our brain and the universe meet....
- Paul Klee
So you rode from the range where your brothers “select,”

Through the ghostly grey bush in th...
- Henry Lawson
Who says that all must vanish?
Who knows, perhaps the flight
of the bird you wound remains,
and p...
- Rainer Maria Rilke
A box with paints from childhood's time:
The colors of town are earth and grime.
An old worker a...
- Julian Tuwim
A shepherd shearing sheep one day
Declaimed most zealously
Upon the care was ta’en of sh...
- Ignacy Krasicki
A bee
staggers out
of the peony....
- Matsuo Basho
The moon came into the forge
in her bustle of flowering nard.
The little boy stares at her, stares...
- Federico García Lorca
Iceland, fortunate isle! Our beautiful, bountiful mother!
Where are your fortune and fame, freedom ...
- Jonas Hallgrimsson
Culture, which makes talent shine, is not completely ours either, nor can we place it solely at our ...
- Jose Marti
From far abroad, from across the sea, from the glowing south, the messengers of spring, the beloved ...
- Rikard Katalinic Jeretov
 Art -  Literature - Alfred de Musset - French poet
Alfred de Musset - French poet
Posted:
February 9th 2013
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Contributed by user for educational purposes only. User is not author.
I'll never step ashore and feel your beach
the way I felt it as a barefoot child,
or see you waver...
- Ugo Fuscolo
Up, Amarylis! Darling, awaken!
Through the still bracken
Soft airs swell;
...
- Carl Michael Bellman
Slopes
of Mount Kugami—
in the mountain's shade
a hut beneath the trees—
how many years
it'...
- Ryokan Taigu
What else could we do, for the doors were guarded,
What else could we do, for they had imprisoned u...
- Paul Eluard
'Tis an eerie thing o'er the moor to fare
When the eddies of peat-smoke justle,
When the wra...
- Annette von Droste-Hülshoff
In the green morning
I wanted to be a heart.
A heart.

And in the ripe evening
I wanted to be...
- Federico García Lorca
In a few days
it shall belong to the past.
in order to forget
I'll give myself
to the warm glow
...
- Hendrik Marsman