ACQUAINTED WITH THE NIGHT
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain — and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
O luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
(2 votes, average: 3,00 out of 5)
Podobne wiersze:
- Poznałem wszystkie nocy tajemnice ROBERT FROST (1874-1963) I have been one acquainted with the night I have been one acquainted with the night. I […]...
- AN OLD MAN’S WINTER NIGHT All out of doors looked darkly in at him Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, That gathers on […]...
- The Waste Land – I. Burial of the Dead April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, strirring Dull roots with […]...
- T. S. Eliot – Preludes I The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o’clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. […]...
- E Tenebris Come down, O Christ, and help me! reach Thy hand, For I am drowning in a stormier sea Than Simon […]...
- T. S. Eliot – Rhapsody on a Windy Night Twelve o’clock. Along the reaches of the street Held in a lunar synthesis, Whispering lunar incantations Disolve the floors of […]...
- Once I pass’d Through a Populous City Once I pass’d through a populous city imprinting my brain for future use with its shows, architecture, customs, traditions, Yet […]...
- TWO LOOK AT TWO Love and forgetting might have carried them A little further up the mountain side With night so near, but not […]...
- Night THE sun descending in the west, The evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest. And I […]...
- This Is a Poem I Wrote at Night, Before the Dawn This is a poem I wrote before I died and was reborn: – After the years of the apples ripening […]...
- The Waste Land – V. What the Thunder Said After the torchlight red on sweaty faces After the frosty silence in the gardens After the agony in stony places […]...
- Storm At Night Storm At NightOh, how aquarium-still, how brooding-warm This paradise! How peacefully in the womb Of war itself, and at the […]...
- Day or Night Day or night, To mock a killing bird, In Racoon’s Cabin, away, mi boys. The infant waves of the serene […]...
- [ANG] Peter Quince at the Clavier I Just as my fingers on these keys Make music, so the self-same sounds On my spirit make a music, […]...
- A BROOK IN THE CITY The firm house lingers, though averse to square With the new city street it has to wear A number in. […]...
- Robert E. Howard – Lines written in the realization that I must Die The Black Door gapes and the Black Wall rises; Twilight gasps in the grip of Night. Paper and dust are […]...
- The Ideal Found Wanting The Ideal Found Wanting I’m sick of clownery and Owlglass tricks; Damn the whole crowd of you! I hate you […]...
- Complaint Of A Poet Manqué Complaint Of A Poet ManquéWe judge by appearance merely: If I can’t think strangely, I can at least look queerly. […]...
- [ANG] Two Figures in Dense Violet Light I had as lief be embraced by the portier of the hotel As to get no more from the moonlight […]...
- (chcę pisać o tobie…)ang. przekład I want to write about you With your name to prop the crooked fence The frozen cherry tree About your […]...
- *** „We rested beyond the welded, fenced peninsula, With frosted baby bites filtering the harbormaster’s voice, Within the city of sound, […]...
- Someone Is Harshly Coughing as Before Someone is harshly coughing on the next floor, Sudden excitement catching the flesh of his throat: Who is the sick […]...
- THE MOUNTAIN The mountain held the town as in a shadow. I saw so much before I slept there once: I noticed […]...
- The Waste Land – III. The Fire Sermon The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses […]...
- [ANG] Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, […]...
- Crossing the bar – Alfred Tennyson Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When […]...
- [ANG] The Snow Man One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; […]...
- TO THE THAWING WIND Come with rain, O loud Southwester! Bring the singer, bring the nester; Give the buried flower a dream; Make the […]...
- [ANG] The Idea of Order at Key West She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind or voice, Like a body wholly […]...
- „Afternoon Song „ Though your wicked eyebrows call Your nature into question (Unangelic’s their suggestion, Witch whose eyes enthrall) I adore you still […]...