The Poetry of Yuri Zhivago - Boris Pasternak

Wind

I have died, but you are still among the living.

And the wind, keening and complaining,

Makes the country house and forest rock –

Not each pine by itself

But all the trees as one,

Together with the illimitable distance;

It makes them rock as the hulls of sailboats

Rock on the mirrorous waters of a boat basin.

And this the wind does not out of bravado

Or in a senseless rage,

But so that in its desolation

It may find words to fashion a lullaby for you.

Translated by Yakov Hornstein

“The Poems of Yuri Zhivago” from the novel, Doctor Zhivago

Boris Leonidovich Pasternak (1890-1960)

The Giraffe by Nikolai Gumilev

Painting by Anne Weirich

 

The Giraffe

O, the look in your eyes this morning is more than usually sad,
With your little arms wrapped round your knees and body bent in half.
Let me tell you a story: far, far away, on the distant shores of Lake Chad,
There roams a most majestic giraffe
Blessed with a handsome build and graceful carriage
And a coat painted hypnotic, magical patterns,
With which none but the moon above dare compare
When her light falls down to be scattered and rocked on the waters,
Passing like a blazing sail far out at sea
As she runs by, nimble and carefree as a bird in flight.
I hear tell the earth has seen many wonderful things
When the giraffe hides herself away and the sun sets into night.
I know fabulous tales of far off, alien lands,
Of a dark maiden, of a young captain’s burning desire, all this I know,
But you’ve breathed in the damp marsh air for so long
You don’t want to believe in anything but the rain out your window.
I still haven’t told you about her tropic garden, with the slenderest palm trees,
The sweetest wildflowers, meadows of unbelievable grass . . .
Are you crying? Let me tell you a story: far away, on the distant shores of Lake Chad,
There roams a most majestic giraffe.

By Nikolai Gumilev/Translation by James Stotts

Hello April - It's National Poetry Month! Over the next few weeks I'll be sharing all things poetic here at Calendar Gal.

A Beautiful Sight - Underpass Graffiti Poem

Photo Credit: Ed O'Keeffe

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

By William Wordsworth (1807)

Hello April - It's National Poetry Month! Over the next few weeks I'll be sharing all things poetic here at Calendar Gal.

Newspaper Blackout Poems by Austin Kleon

Austin Kleon ROCKS poetry!  



HEARD ON THE TITANIC

 

GOLDILOCKS

HOW TO BE A TEXAN



HOUSE IN TEXAS

Learn more abut Austin Kleon HERE and grab some inspiration HERE.


Hello April - It's National Poetry Month! Over the next few weeks I'll be sharing all things poetic here at Calendar Gal.

Even a Pine Tree Can Dream...

My heart skips a beat for this poem - such a lovely thought.

Jack Brauer  http://www.mountainphotographer.com/



On A Bare Hill's Top...(aka The Pine Tree)

On a bare hill's top, in the North, wild and cold,

A lone pine-tree somewhere stands;

She dozes, swaying, all covered by snow

With a mantel from feet to a head.

She sees in her dreams: in a faraway desert,

In lands where the sun enters skies,

Alone and sad, on a rock's sunburnt lather,

A beautiful palm-tree abides.

By Mikhail Yurevich Lermontov (1814-1841)

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, November, 2000

Hello April - It's National Poetry Month!Over the next few weeks I'll be sharing all things poetic here at Calendar Gal.