My window shews the travelling clouds, Leaves spent, new seasons, alter'd sky, The making and the melting crowds: The whole world passes; I stand by. Nori peregrini mi-arată fereastra imobilă, veştede frunze, tot alte anotimpuri, cer nestatornic, mulţime …
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lin în noaptea asta bună nu te-ndepărta, În groapa zilei vârsta veche …
Fără de număr sunteţi fii ai faptei pretutindeni pe drumuri, subt cer şi prin case. Numai eu stau aici fără folos, nemernic, bun doar de-nnecat în ape. There are so many of you, men who do things, everywhere …
Da, plouă cum n-am mai văzut... Şi grele tălăngi adormite, Cum sună sub şuri învechite! Cum sună în sufletu-mi mut! Yes, it rains as I have never seen... And heavy cowbells asleep, How they ring in old sheds! …
The dews drop slowly and dreams gather; unknown spears Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened eyes, And then the clash of fallen horsemen and the cries Of unknown perishing armies beat about my ears. We who still labour by …
Prin vegherile noastre — site de in — vremea se cerne, şi-o pulbere albă pe tâmple s-aşază. Aurorele încă se mai aprind, şi-aşteptăm. Aşteptăm o singură oră să ne-mpărtăşim din verde imperiu, din raiul sorin. Strained through our …
About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters; how well, they understood Its human position; how it takes place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along; How, when the aged …
Aci sunt giuvaiere ce-mpart cu dărnicie. Cristalizate fost-au de mine-n focul vieţii, Şi-n apa lor răsfrânt-am minunea tinereţii, Iar de-artă şlefuite sunt azi pentru vecie. Here lavishly these jewels among all men I share; In the high fire …
Had I the heavens‘ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, …
Elected Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorlèd ear, Pipe me to pastures still and be The music that I care to hear. Tăcere nobilă, strecoară-ţi tactul şi melodia, gingaş, în spirele auzului meu, condu-mă negreşit, …
Eu nu strivesc corola de minuni a lumii şi nu ucid cu mintea tainele, ce le-ntâlnesc în calea mea în flori, în ochi, pe buze ori morminte. Lumina altora sugrumă vraja nepătrunsului ascuns în adâncimi de întuneric, dar …
Let me be to Thee as the circling bird, Or bat with tender and air-crisping wings That shapes in half-light his departing rings, From both of whom a changeless note is heard. I have found my music in …
În salonul plin de vise, În oglinda larg-ovală încadrată în argint, Bate toamna, Şi grădina cangrenată, În oglinda larg-ovală încadrată în argint. In the drawing-room full of dreams, In the wide-oval mirror framed in silver, Knocks autumn And …
I hear an army charging upon the land, And the thunder of horses plunging; foam about their knees: Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand, Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the Charioteers. Aud o oaste atacând pământul …
I Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold. Whom no compassion fleers Or makes their feet Sore on the alleys cobbled with their brothers. The front line withers, But they …
Porumbii-prooroci îşi scaldă aripile înnegrite de funingine în ploile de sus. Eu cânt — semne, semne de plecare sunt. Prophetic doves bathe in the rain up there, wings blackened by soot. I sing — signs, they are signs …
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what‘s to blame? you think you see a monk! What, 'tis past midnight, and you go the rounds, And here …
The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod? …
'A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For the journey, and such a long journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter. And the camels galled, …
When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; Când …
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