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Der Vogel scheint mir, hat Humor. Comment Hitchhiker 'Tryna get to sunny Californy' -. Comment Next a metaphorical poem written in blank verse, published in , thus in the public domain. Mending Wall Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun; And makes gaps even two can pass abreast. The work of hunters is another thing: I have come after them and made repair Where they have left not one stone on a stone, But they would have the rabbit out of hiding, To please the yelping dogs.
The gaps I mean, No one has seen them made or heard them made, But at spring mending-time we find them there. I let my neighbour know beyond the hill; And on a day we meet to walk the line And set the wall between us once again. We keep the wall between us as we go. To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls We have to use a spell to make them balance: Oh, just another kind of out-door game, One on a side. It comes to little more: There where it is we do not need the wall: He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbours. Isn't it Where there are cows? But here there are no cows. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down. I see him there Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed. He moves in darkness as it seems to me, Not of woods only and the shade of trees. He will not go behind his father's saying, And he likes having thought of it so well He says again, "Good fences make good neighbours.
Comment What Is Life? And what is Life? An hour-glass on the run, A mist retreating from the morning sun, A busy, bustling, still-repeated dream. A minute's pause, a moment's thought. A bubble on the stream, That in the act of seizing shrinks to nought. And what is Hope? The puffing gale of morn, That of its charms divests the dewy lawn, And robs each flow'ret of its gem—and dies; A cobweb, hiding disappointment's thorn, Which stings more keenly through the thin disguise.
And what is Death? Is still the cause unfound? That dark mysterious name of horrid sound? A long and lingering sleep the weary crave. Where can its happiness abound? Nowhere at all, save heaven and the grave.
Then what is Life? When stripped of its disguise, A thing to be desired it cannot be; Since everything that meets our foolish eyes Gives proof sufficient of its vanity. Comment Moon Over Bourbon Street There's a moon over Bourbon Street tonight I see faces as they pass beneath the pale lamplight I've no choice but to follow that call The bright lights, the people, and the moon and all. Comment Consider Me Gone. Roses have thorns Shining water's mud And cancer lurks deep In the sweetest bud. Etwa um diese Zeit schrieb er das folgende, recht eindringliche Kurzgedicht: Dust of Snow http: Comment Hunters in the Snow The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background Comment The Snowdrop Already the Snowdrop dares appear, The first pale blossom of th' unripen'd year; As Flora's breath, by some transforming power, Had chang'd an icicle into a flower, Its name and hue the scentless plant retains, And winter lingers in its icy veins.
Discussion has been deleted. Comment The Smile There is a smile of love, And there is a smile of deceit, And there is a smile of smiles In which these two smiles meet; And there is a frown of hate, And there is a frown of disdain, And there is a frown of frowns Which you strive to forget in vain, For it sticks in the heart's deep core, And it sticks in the deep back bone, And no smile that ever was smil'd, But only one smile alone That betwixt the cradle and grave It only once smil'd can be, But when it once is smil'd, There's an end to all misery.
Es saust der Stock, es schwirrt die Rute. Du darfst nicht zeigen, was du bist. Wie schad, o Mensch, dass dir das Gute Im Grunde so zuwider ist. Friedrich Hebbel — Was droben in den Wipfeln rauscht, das wird hier unten ausgetauscht. Comment Fairy Song Oh, where do fairies hide their heads When snow lies on the hills When frost has spoil'd their mossy beds And crystalized their rills? Beneath the moon they cannot trip In circles o're the plain, And drafts of dew they cannot sip Till green leaves come again Till green leaves come again.
Perhaps in small blue diving bells They plunge beneath the waves, Inhabiting the wreathed shells That lie in coral caves Perhaps in red Vesuvius Carousals they maintain And cheer their little spirits up Till green leaves come again Till green leaves come again. When back they come there'll be glad mirth And music in the air, And fairy wings upon the earth, And mischief everywhere The maids, to keep the elves aloof, will bar the doors in vain, No keyhole will be fairy proof When green leaves come again Wo wohnen denn die Feen im Winter?
Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with a passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!
Ich liebe dich bis zu dem stillsten Stand, den jeder Tag erreicht im Lampenschein oder in Sonne. Frei, im Recht, und rein wie jene, die vom Ruhm sich abgewandt. Mit aller Leidenschaft der Leidenszeit und mit der Kindheit Kraft, die fort war, seit ich meine Heiligen nicht mehr geliebt. Und wenn Gott es giebt, will ich dich besser lieben nach dem Tod. Rainer Maria Rilke — http: Comment The Gardener 85 Who are you, reader, reading my poems an hundred years hence? I cannot send you one single flower from this wealth of the spring, one single streak of gold from yonder clouds. Open your doors and look abroad.
Comment 99 auf Englisch I When coldness wraps this suffering clay, Ah! It cannot die, it cannot stay, But leaves its darken'd dust behind. Then, unembodied, doth it trace By steps each planet's heavenly way? Or fill at once the realms of space, A thing of eyes, that all survey? II Eternal, boundless, undecay'd, A thought unseen, but seeing all, All, all in earth or skies display'd, Shall it survey, shall it recal: Each fainter trace that memory holds So darkly of departed years, In one broad glance the soul beholds, And all, that was, at once appears.
III Before Creation peopled earth, Its eye shall roll through chaos back; And where the farthest heaven had birth, The spirit trace its rising track. And where the future mars or makes, Its glance dilate o'er all to be, While sun is quench'd or system breaks, Fix'd in its own eternity. An age shall fleet like earthly year; Its years as moments shall endure. Away, away, without a wing, O'er all, through all, its thoughts shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing, Forgetting what it was to die.
It was first published in , so it is in the public domain. II I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. III The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one. V I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after. VI Icicles filled the long window With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro. The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause. Do you not see how the blackbird Walks around the feet Of the women about you? IX When the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles. X At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply. XI He rode over Connecticut In a glass coach. Once, a fear pierced him, In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds.
XII The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying. XIII It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs. Wallace Stevens — http: Christian Morgenstern - Robert Graves - Comment A Winter's Tale Yesterday the fields were only grey with scattered snow, And now the longest grass-leaves hardly emerge; Yet her deep footsteps mark the snow, and go On towards the pines at the hills' white verge.
I cannot see her, since the mist's white scarf Obscures the dark wood and the dull orange sky; But she's waiting, I know, impatient and cold, half Sobs struggling into her frosty sigh. Why does she come so promptly, when she must know That she's only the nearer to the inevitable farewell; The hill is steep, on the snow my steps are slow-- Why does she come, when she knows what I have to tell?
Lawrence - Wer vermag zu regnen? Wem geht ein Wind durchs Herz, unwidersprechlich? Wer ist zugleich so biegsam und gebrechlich wie jeder Zweig an einem jeden Baum? He lives in Seattle, Washington with his wife. Jack Prelutsky claims to have hated poetry when he was younger. Joseph von Eichendorff - Comment Very Early Spring The fields are snowbound no longer; There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky-- So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold. Now the sun walks in the forest, He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers; They shiver, and wake from slumber.
Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel
Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls. Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears A wind dances over the fields. Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter, Yet the little blue lakes tremble And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver. Katherine Mansfield — Da sprach eine Stimme: Da sprang der Laden auf. Soll ich es wirklich wagen, Die Augen aufzuschlagen? Da gingen mir die Augen auf: Otto Julius Bierbaum Verehrter Freund, so sei denn nicht vermessen, Sei zart und schweig auch du. Wer nicht besonders auserlesen, Dem macht die Tugend Schwierigkeit.
Comment Two Tramps in Mud Time Out of the mud two strangers came And caught me splitting wood in the yard, And one of them put me off my aim By hailing cheerily "Hit them hard! Robert Frost - He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes.
A popular and often-quoted poet, Frost was honored frequently during his lifetime, receiving four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry. Comment The Mask of Anarchy I. I met Murder on the way- He had a mask like Castlereagh- Very smooth he looked, yet grim; Seven blood-hounds followed him: All were fat; and well they might Be in admirable plight, For one by one, and two by two, He tossed them human hearts to chew Which from his wide cloak he drew. Next came Fraud, and he had on, Like Eldon, an ermined gown; His big tears, for he wept well, Turned to mill-stones as they fell. And the little children, who Round his feet played to and fro, Thinking every tear a gem, Had their brains knocked out by them.
Clothed with the Bible, as with light, And the shadows of the night, Like Sidmouth, next, Hypocrisy On a crocodile rode by. And many more Destructions played In this ghastly masquerade, All disguised, even to the eyes, Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies. In his call for freedom, it is perhaps the first modern statement of the principle of nonviolent resistance http: Sitzt nun am Ofen.
Liest, was gewesen ist. Springflut und Havarie, Sturm und Lawinen, - gibt es denn niemals Ruh drunten bei ihnen. Schaut den Kalender an. Blickt auf die Erde. Schnee vom vergangenen Jahr blieb nicht der gleiche. Liegt wie ein Bettbezug klein auf der Bleiche. Mustert im Fortgehn noch Weiden und Erlen. In Baum und Krume regt sich's allenthalben. Durch die glatten kahlen Alleen treibt sein Wehn blasse Schatten und den Duft, den er gebracht, von wo er gekommen seit gestern Nacht.
Hugo von Hofmannstal - Auf einmal legt sich Schonung an der Wiesen aufgedecktes Grau. Wege gehen weit ins Land und zeigens. Unvermutet siehst du seines Steigens Ausdruck in dem leeren Baum. Rainer Maria Rilke — Entstanden Comment To Spring O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down Through the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
William Blake — Written in Wer rettete vom Tode mich, Von Sklaverei? Hast du die Schmerzen gelindert Je des Beladenen? Comment Love's Blindness Now do I know that Love is blind, for I Can see no beauty on this beauteous earth, No life, no light, no hopefulness, no mirth, Pleasure nor purpose, when thou art not nigh. Thy absence exiles sunshine from the sky, Seres Spring's maturity, checks Summer's birth, Leaves linnet's pipe as sad as plover's cry, And makes me in abundance find but dearth. But when thy feet flutter the dark, and thou With orient eyes dawnest on my distress, Suddenly sings a bird on every bough, The heavens expand, the earth grows less and less, The ground is buoyant as the ether now, And all looks lovely in thy loveliness.
Alfred Austin — Rudolf Presber - Emily Dickinson — Einen letzten Strich tat der Geigerich- und dann war nichts weiter zu beweisen. Christian Morgenstern — Comment A Stopwatch and an Ordnance Map. At five a man fell to the ground And the watch flew off his wrist. Eine Stoppuhr und eine Generalstabskarte. Alles unter den Oliven. Alles unter den Oliven Noch ein Versuch: Comment An vielen Tagen By Horst Langheim Throughout my life, on many days, Adversity and pain was mine, But wrapped in love — its warm embrace, I didn't live one day in vain.
And love, just love, it is God's might Which in our darkest days Will fan the flames in us to light The world, dispel the haze. So let the flames burn strong and high And daily fan the fires; No evil spirit can defy A glowing heart that good inspires. Das Erdbeben Erkenne nun: Wohin nun denkst du rettend? Kein Ausweg mehr ins Andre: Maria Luise Weissmann — Comment Sonnet 30 When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe, And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight: But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
Ich freue mich, dass du wieder dabei bist, heute mit einem der bekanntesten Shakespeare-Sonette. Unglaublich, wie weit Wikipedia schon entwickelt ist: Allerdings bleibt mir nur der Verweis auf: Comment Wie ich eben sehe, ist heute ein anderer Limerick unter zu lesen. Hier noch ein Versuch, den Atom-Fan einzufangen: Noch bedeutsamer und beunruhigender als konkrete Personen sind die Einstellungen, die anhand politischer Figuren sinnbildhaft karikiert werden.
Roald Dahl — After school, Roald Dahl didn't go to university, but applied for a job at the Shell company, because he was sure they would send him abroad. He was sent to East Africa, where he got the adventure he wanted: He lived in the jungle, learned to speak Swahili and suffered from malaria.
He was a fighter pilot and shot down German planes and got shot down himself. After 6 months in hospital he flew again. Comment Geld regiert die Welt oder: Nur aus der Werlt Wer nicht hat Geld! Denn ohne Geld Schafft man nichts in der Welt. Kommt Kunst gegangen vor ein Haus, Man sagt, der Wirth sei gangen aus. Johann Michael Moscherosch, Comment On December 30, , John Keats and Leigh Hunt challenged each other to write a sonnet on the subject of "the grasshopper and cricket.
On the Grasshopper and Cricket The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; That is the Grasshopper's--he takes the lead In summer luxury,--he has never done With his delights; for when tired out with fun He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
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The poetry of earth is ceasing never: On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever, And seems to one in drowsiness half lost, The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills. Indoors and out, summer and winter,--Mirth. Sind es die Wiesen? Ist es das Tal? Goldene Fische Wimmeln im See. Saget, seit gestern Wie mir geschah? Liebliche Schwestern, Liebchen ist da! Streams richer laden Flow through the dale, Are these the meadows? Is this the vale? Fish crowd the ocean, Golden and bright.
Birds of gay plumage Sport in the grove, Heavenly numbers Singing above. Under the verdure's Vigorous bloom, Bees, softly bumming, Juices consume. Gentle disturbance Quivers in air, Sleep-causing fragrance, Motion so fair. Soon with more power Rises the breeze, Then in a moment Dies in the trees. But to the bosom Comes it again. Aid me, ye Muses, Bliss to sustain! Say what has happen'd Since yester e'en? Oh, ye fair sisters, Her I have seen! Comment Full Moon One night as Dick lay fast asleep,. Auf treten Vorfelder im Regen und …. Ingeborg Bachmann — http: Detlev on Liliencron — Quotes of the night; Comment ach Claus, bei einem Glas Rotwein funktioniert das nicht mehr.
Hat jemand vielleicht eine Idee? Eigentlich die beste Gelegenheit, moderne Gedichte hier komplett einzustellen. Mein Wannenbad Es muss wieder mal sein. Ich steige hinein In zirka zwei Kubikmeter See. Comment Dream Deferred What happens to a dream deferred? Spring lets its blue ribbon flutter again in the breeze;. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare http: Auden — http: Da kommt der Wind! Sie flattern und schwelln!
Heinrich Heine - Buch der Lieder. Comment Daffodils 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 waves in glee: A poet could not but be 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.
He belonged to the Symbolist school. Durch das vergilbte Rohr bricht scheu ein Wild. It will check him. Second Girl I shall run before him, Arching cloths besprinkled with colors As small as fish-eggs. The threads Will abash him. Third Girl Oh, la I shall run before him, With a curious puffing. He will bend his ear then.
I shall whisper Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals. It will undo him. Wallace Stevens — This poem was first published in , so it is in the public domain. Sieh, auf die gleichen Klippen schwimm ich ein. Walter Hasenclever — C'est, vers les ramures grises, Le choeur des petites voix. Tu dirais, sous l'eau qui vire, Le roulis sourd des cailloux. Paul Verlaine — This is ecstasy This is languorous ecstasy, This is sensual weariness, This is all the rustling of forests In the embrace of the breezes.
This is, through the gray boughs, The chorus of little voices. Oh, the faint cool murmur, It twitters and whispers, It resembles the gentle cry Which the ruffled grass exhales. You might call it, under the water that eddies, The muted rolling of pebbles. This soul which is lamenting In this subdued plaint, It is ours, is it not? Say that it is mine, and yours Which breathes this humble hymn, So softly, on this mild evening.
Comment Sonnet 98 From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in everything, That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him, Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odor and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew.
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away, As with your shadow I with these did play. Hanno Helbling nach Da, Herr, da gab es rechte Beute! Es lebe Prinz Eugen! Damit mein Herz auch ihn verehren Und ihn beneiden kann. Dort lag sein Gut am Rhein Ihr seid sein wahrer Erbe!
Doch endlich kamen sie einander in die Haare, Und ihre Republik versank in Anarchie. Ha, rief das arme Volk mit tiefgesenkten Ohren Und mit geschundner Haut, was haben wir getan! I only trust your heart now, And have no other god. This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose. Comment Spring is like a perhaps hand http: Da der pfaff fant von guter roter seiden ein schon messgwant, darum kauft er bescheiden; des kaufs wurden sie eins zwischen in beiden; er wolts versuchen an, Und leget von im seinen rock; im beutel het er zweinzig schock, den er auch von im legt.
The poetry corner - Vol. 4 - Chat room: English ⇔ German Forums - iwojafevazyx.ml
Der pfaff zuhant dem diebe wart nachlaufen in dem messgwant mit blasen und mit schnaufen. Als sich der rechte dieb verlief, der kaufman den pfaffen ergrief bei seinem messgwant rot.
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Zweihundert schock behemisch must auch geben zu straf Hans Bock, welcher im nam das leben und het vor nit all ding erforschet eben, e er hant leget on. Comment The Enkindled Spring This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.
I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration, Faces of people streaming across my gaze. And I, what fountain of fire am I among This leaping combustion of spring? Lawrence — Thou herald of rich Summer's myriad flowers!
The climbing sun with new recovered powers Does warm thee into being, through the ring Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling:: Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers:: Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers, Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing:: To make all nature glad, thou art so gay; To fill the lonely with a joy untold;:: Nodding at every gust of wind to-day, To-morrow jewelled with raindrops. To stand erect, full in the dazzling play Of April's sun, for thou hast caught his gold.
Amy Lowell — Comment Die Tulpe Dunkel war alles und Nacht. Comment A Tulip Garden Guarded within the old red wall's embrace, Marshalled like soldiers in gay company, The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry Wheels out into the sunlight. What bold grace Sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace!
Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry, With scarlet sabres tossing in the eye Of purple batteries, every gun in place. Forward they come, with flaunting colours spread, With torches burning, stepping out in time To some quick, unheard march. Our ears are dead, We cannot catch the tune. In pantomime Parades that army. With our utmost powers We hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers. The riches left, not got with pain; The fruitful ground; the quiet mind; The equal friend, no grudge, no strife; No charge of rule, nor governance; Without disease, the healthy life; The household of continuance; The mean diet, no delicate fare; True wisdom joined with simpleness; The night discharged of all care, Where wine the wit may not oppress; The faithful wife, without debate; Such sleeps as may beguile the night; Contented with mine own estate, No wish for death, nor fear his might.
Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey — Another year Is quick with import. Such each year has been. Unmoved thou watchest all, and all bequeath Some jewel to thy diadem of power, Thou pledge of greater majesty unseen. Amy Lowell — http: I march with feet that burn and smart Tread, Holy Feet, upon my heart. Men shout at me who may not speak They scourged Thy back and smote Thy cheek. I may not lift a hand to clear My eyes of salty drops that sear. Then shall my fickle soul forget Thy Agony of Bloody Sweat? My rifle hand is stiff and numb From Thy pierced palm red rivers come. Lord, Thou didst suffer more for me Than all the hosts of land and sea.
So let me render back again This millionth of Thy gift. Joyce Kilmer — http: But now I clearly see that of mankind Long time I was the tale: James Caulfeild, 1st Earl of Charlemont — Comment This poem by Robert Frost was first published in or , so it is in the public domain. Revelation We make ourselves a place apart Behind light words that tease and flout, But oh, the agitated heart Till someone find us really out. But so with all, from babes that play At hide-and-seek to God afar, So all who hide too well away Must speak and tell us where they are.
Robert Frost — http: Pom-POM allait en guerre Per vendere cannoni. Comment Love Sonnet Now you are old and mostly bald. Comment Daybreak At Dawn she lay with her profile at that angle. Comment A Love Song Reject me not if I should say to you I do forget the sounding of your voice, I do forget your eyes that searching through The mists perceive our marriage, and rejoice. Yet, when the apple-blossom opens wide Under the pallid moonlight's fingering, I see your blanched face at my breast, and hide My eyes from diligent work, malingering.
Ah, then, upon my bedroom I do draw The blind to hide the garden, where the moon Enjoys the open blossoms as they straw Their beauty for his taking, boon for boon. And I do lift my aching arms to you, And I do lift my anguished, avid breast, And I do weep for very pain of you, And fling myself at the doors of sleep, for rest. And I do toss through the troubled night for you, Dreaming your yielded mouth is given to mine, Feeling your strong breast carry me on into The peace where sleep is stronger even than wine.
A Guardian Angel—how absurd!.. My Guardian Angel http: Comment Zu , Still a living text: Er war ein junger Schmetterling, Der selig an der Blume hing. Ach Gott, wie das dem Schmetterling So schmerzlich durch die Seele ging. Wilhelm Busch — http: Aus dem hohlen finstern Tor Dringt ein buntes Gewimmel hervor. Jeder sonnt sich heute so gern. Sie feiern die Auferstehung des Herrn, Denn sie sind selber auferstanden: Selbst von des Berges fernen Pfaden Blinken uns farbige Kleider an.
Hier bin ich Mensch, hier darf ichs sein! Die Stelle mit dem Esel mag ich besonders gerne Comment Ostern Da ist nun unser Osterhase-! Dann geht er wichtig in die Hecken und tut, was sonst nur Hennen tun. Da sind sie nun. Bunt angemalen sagt jedes Ei: Iss du das Ei! Iss nur das Ei! Kurt Tucholsky — O frischer Duft, o neuer Klang! Nun, armes Herze, sei nicht bang! They create in every corner Oh fresh scent, oh new sound! Now, poor dear [heart], fear not! Now everything, everything must change, The world becomes more beautiful with each day One does not know what may yet happen,.
The blooming doesn't want to end. The farthest, deepest valley blooms: Now, poor dear, forget the pain!. Now everything, everything must change. Prose translation by Hyde Flippo. Comment Grass Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Comment Merci beaucoup, oopsy 23 Apr 11 With the love of the storm he burns, He sings, he laughs, well I know how, But forgets when he returns As I shall not forget her 'Go now'.
Those two words shut a door Between me and the blessed rain That was never shut before And will not open again. Edward Thomas — Anglo-Welsh writer of prose and poetry. He is commonly considered a war poet, although few of his poems deal directly with his war experiences. Already an accomplished writer, Thomas turned to poetry only in He enlisted in the army in , and was killed in action during the Battle of Arras in , soon after he arrived in France.
Ey du edler Reben-Safft! Hans Jakob Christoffel von Grimmelshausen — Comment Kurze Gedichte haben etwas ganz Besonderes. Oft braucht der Autor einige Zeit, sich so kurz zu fassen und dabei gleich auf den Punkt zu kommen. In April one seldom feels cheerful; Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful;.
Auch wenn sie nicht nach Quoten schielen: Es ist daher in the public domain gemeinfrei.
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss; There never was a bargain better driven. His heart in me keeps me and him in one; My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides: He loves my heart, for once it was his own; I cherish his because in me it bides. His heart his wound received from my sight; My heart was wounded with his wounded heart; For as from me on him his hurt did light, So still, methought, in me his hurt did smart: Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss, My true love hath my heart and I have his. Remembrance wakened in my heart And I knew I loved her dearly.
The fallows and the leafless trees And all my spirit tingled. My earliest thought of love, and Spring's First puff of perfume mingled. In my still heart the thoughts awoke, Came lone by lone together - Say, birds and Sun and Spring, is Love A mere affair of weather? Nun der Blick auf einmal helle, Sieh!
Es lauscht der Teich mit offnem Mund. Ganz leise heult der Schluchtenhund. Die Drommel reckt sich auf im Rohr. Der Moosfrosch lugt aus seinem Moor. Der Schreck horcht auf in seinem Haus. Das Irrlicht selbst macht Halt und Rast auf einem windgebrochnen Ast. Sophie, die Maid, hat ein Gesicht: Das Mondschaf geht zum Hochgericht. Im fernen Dorf schreit ein Kind. Der Rabe Ralf ruft schaurig: Das End ist da! In the fairest time of year, Dearest bird, oh! Thy cuck-oo, thy cuck-oo. Ever more cuck-oo, cuck-oo! A loving pair Fain would to the altar fare; Yes!
Is the hour not fix'd by fate? Say, how long must they still wait? Only two years patient be! But if we ourselves please here, Will pa-pa-papas appear? Know that thou'lt more kindness do us, More thou'lt prophesy unto us. Ever, ever, cuck-oo, cuck-oo, coo! If we've calculated clearly, We have half a dozen nearly. If good promises we'll give, Wilt thou say how long we'II live? Truly, we'll confess to thee, We'd prolong it willingly. Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo, Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo!
Life is one continued feast-- If we keep no score, at least. If now we together dwell, Will true love remain as well? For if that should e'er decay, Happiness would pass away. Zwischen und besuchte er die Bergvorschule in Dahlhausen. Obwohl er diese erfolgreich absolvierte verzichtete er auf seine Fortbildung zum Steiger. Ist die Stunde denn noch nicht voll? Sag, wie lange es warten soll! Ist es doch nicht unsre Schuld! Nur zwei Jahre noch Geduld! Aber, wenn wir uns genommen, Werden Pa-pa-papas kommen?
Immer weiter Coucou, Coucou, Cou. Wenn wir gute Worte geben, Sagst du wohl, wie lang wir leben? Sind wir nun zusammen blieben, Bleibt denn auch das treue Lieben? Cou Coucou, Cou Coucou: Zu euch, ihr Inseln! Kap Sounion auch Sunion. Doch kaum erholt er sich vom Schreck, da spricht er ohn' Verdriessen: Doch kaum erholt er sich vom Schreck, vergessen war das Leiden: Doch bald erholt er sich vom Schreck: Friedrich Schlegel — Charles Baudelaire — The One Possessed http: Academy Library Guild, William Aggeler majored in electrical engineering at Caltech, and after graduation he continued in this field for five years.
He then went to Paris and studied French literature, art and history at the Sorbonne, which convinced him that this was his real interest. Comment Das scharfe S auch sz gibt es immer noch: Cold lie the daisy banks Clothed but in green, Where, in the days agone, Bright hues were seen. Fast falls the snow, Bending the daffodil's Haughty head low. Under that fleecy tent, Careless of cold, Blithe little Dandelion Counteth her gold.
Meek little Dandelion Groweth more fair, Till dies the amber dew Out from her hair. High rides the thirsty sun, Fiercely and high; Faint little Dandelion Closeth her eye. Helen Barron Bostwick [? Der Berliner Senat stimmte der Ehrung am 6. Comment For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
Comment Suspense and thriller: Schiller Ein Klassiker, den es sich zu lesen lohnt. Was wolltest du mit dem Dolche, sprich! Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach, Hier oben aber, wie grausamlich Sonne und Rosen stechen sie mich! Josef Guggenmos — Self-Unconscious Along the way He walked that day, Watching shapes that reveries limn, And seldom he Had eyes to see The moment that encompassed him. Bright yellowhammers Made mirthful clamours, And billed long straws with a bustling air, And bearing their load Flew up the road That he followed, alone, without interest there.
From bank to ground And over and round They sidled along the adjoining hedge; Sometimes to the gutter Their yellow flutter Would dip from the nearest slatestone ledge. The smooth sea-line With a metal shine, And flashes of white, and a sail thereon, He would also descry With a half-wrapt eye Between the projects he mused upon. Yes, round him were these Earth's artistries, But specious plans that came to his call Did most engage His pilgrimage, While himself he did not see at all.
Dead now as sherds Are the yellow birds, And all that mattered has passed away; Yet God, the Elf, Now shows him that self As he was, and should have been shown, that day. O it would have been good Could he then have stood At a focussed distance, and conned the whole, But now such vision Is mere derision, Nor soothes his body nor saves his soul.
Not much, some may Incline to say, To see in him, had it all been seen. Comment The Green Linnet Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head, With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring's unclouded weather, In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard-seat! And birds and flowers once more to greet, My last year's friends together. One have I marked, the happiest guest In all this covert of the blest: Hail to Thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion! While birds, and butterflies, and flowers, Make all one band of paramours, Thou, ranging up and down the bowers, Art sole in thy employment: A Life, a Presence like the Air, Scattering thy gladness without care, Too blest with any one to pair; Thyself thy own enjoyment.
Amid yon tuft of hazel trees, That twinkle to the gusty breeze, Behold him perched in ecstasies, Yet seeming still to hover; There! My dazzled sight he oft deceives, A brother of the dancing leaves; Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves Pours forth his song in gushes; As if by that exulting strain He mocked and treated with disdain The voiceless Form he chose to feign, While fluttering in the bushes.
Comment Vater werden ist nicht schwer… Vater werden ist nicht schwer, Vater sein dagegen sehr. Wilhelm Busch Das musste zum Vatertag jetzt sein: Comment The Cat and the Moon The cat went here and there And the moon spun round like a top, And the nearest kin of the moon, The creeping cat, looked up. Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon, For, wander and wail as he would, The pure cold light in the sky Troubled his animal blood. Minnaloushe runs in the grass Lifting his delicate feet. Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance? When two close kindred meet, What better than call a dance?
Maybe the moon may learn, Tired of that courtly fashion, A new dance turn. Minnaloushe creeps through the grass From moonlit place to place, The sacred moon overhead Has taken a new phase. Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils Will pass from change to change, And that from round to crescent, From crescent to round they range? Minnaloushe creeps through the grass Alone, important and wise, And lifts to the changing moon His changing eyes. William Butler Yeats — http: Comment Creatures The butterfly, alive inside a box,.
Jeder Schmetterling den ich rette. Es ist was es ist. Comment Pour faire le portrait d'un oiseau Peindre d'abord une cage. Comment Erst in 22 Jahren gemeinfrei. Hermann Hesse — http: Aber vor des Kampfes Gitter Ritt zuletzt ein schwarzer Ritter. Und zur reichen Tafel kamen Alle Ritter, alle Damen. Bleich die Kinder beide schienen; Bot der Gast den Becher ihnen: Wohin der graue, Erschrockne Vater schaue, Sieht er eins der Kinder sterben. Comment Heute mal kein Gedicht. Der Schwarze Ritter Oder: Der Schwarze Ritter triumphiert immer Monty Python http: Comment Etwas Statistik zu The poetry corner - Vol.
Eine gemeinsame Auswertung vom ersten Artikel bis Vol. Busch, Goethe, Heine, Morgenstern Rilke, Ringelnatz, Trakl Englischsprachige: William Blake, Robert Frost Comment The Arrow and the Song I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song? In the listing below Hennenberg H. If there is no indicator between the "H. Alternatively the sublist to which a cantata belongs can be indicated by a page number: KK A and HenS 21 p.
Most of the sacred cantatas are for occasions of the liturgical year, although there are also church cantatas for other occasions such as birthday celebrations of his employer. Digital facsimiles of such manuscripts are often available at the website of that library and at the IMSLP website. For example, from a collective manuscript containing 26 church cantatas: From a composite manuscript containing 16 cantatas copied c.
From a series of 12 cantatas copied c. A series of 17 cantatas copied c. A series of 15 cantatas copied c. From a manuscript containing 14 pieces of church music: Six birthday cantatas for Frederick III: Parodies are indicated with ",2" or ",3" after the H. Kyrie—Gloria masses mass compositions consisting of a Kyrie and Gloria exclusively and other settings of parts of the mass:. Some compositions are alternatively indicated as opera or serenata see also secular cantatas section above:. Several pieces of instrumental music, orchestral as well as chamber music, survived in Dresden , in what is known as "Schrank II" book-case 2.
Eight sonatas in F major for oboe, horn , violin and continuo, from the manuscripts Mus. A similar sonata for oboe, horn, violin and continuo is kept in the library of the Conservatoire Royal de Bruxelles. Twelve trio sonatas in a collective manuscript by multiple scribes: Two trio sonatas in a collective manuscript: Three trio sonatas for violin, flute and harpsichord: Three trio sonatas copied by "Copyist J.
Two trio sonatas for violin, flute and continuo: Two trio sonatas for two flutes and continuo: Two trio sonatas for flute, violin and continuo: Shortly after his death some of his compositions were still performed, and Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg rated him slightly above Bach in his list of prominent composers of the 18th century. His operas had been staged in several major cities in the s.
His sacred music was performed from Catholic Prague to the Protestant German principalities. Even after his music production became concentrated on Gotha and Sondershausen, his music was still performed outside these places. One of his operas was performed in Altenburg in ,  the Saitenspiel cantata cycle was performed under Johann Friedrich Fasch in Zerbst in —25,  and the first Passion he had composed for Gotha, and reworked around , was taken up in several German cities:.
Bach didn't only perform the work: Passion settings and many cantatas such as the —29 double cantata cycle restaged in the liturgical years —53, —64 and —66 were included in such repeat performances. Only the best works of my predecessor, which could be used even today for church music, are saved, because already a long time ago I separated them from useless junk and kept them in my own house. The pieces from the Anna Magdalena and Wilhelm Friedemann Bach notebooks, "Bist du bei mir" and Partita di Signore Steltzeln , were published by the Bach Gesellschaft in the second half of the 19th century.
The New Bach Edition republished the three Bach-related pieces in the second half of the 20th century. Martin-in-the-Fields conducted by Neville Marriner. WK A 12—27 were released on two CDs, in and respectively. WK A 11 in Chamber music for string instruments and continuo was recorded in The Enharmonische Claviersonate has been recorded on harpsichord. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. This section needs expansion. You can help by adding to it. Performed by soprano Elisabeth Schumann , Schrank II at hofmusik.