Poemas en ingles

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Rudyard Kipling
2007-01-01 10:14:07
Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)PoemasRudyard Kipling -The secret of the machines-Rudyard Kipling -Song of the galley-slaves-Rudyard Kipling -The way through the woods-Rudyard Kipling -A song in storm-Rudyard Kipling -To be a man-
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Rudyard Kipling -The second jungle book- Tiger! Tiger!
2007-01-01 10:14:07
The second jungle bookRudy ard Kipling (1865-1936)Tiger! Tiger!What of the hunting, hunter bold?Brother, the watch was long and cold.What of the quarry ye went to kill?Brother, be crops in the jungle still.Where is the power that made your pride?Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side.Where is the haste that ye hurry by?Brother, I go to my lair ? to die.El segundo libro de la selva¡Al tigre! ¡Al tigre!-¿Qué tal de caza, fiero cazador?-Largo fue el ojeo; el frío, atroz.-¿Dónde la pieza que fuiste a cobrar?-En el bosque, hermano, creo que estará.-¿Dónde tu orgullo, tu pujanza?-De ambos la herida trajo mudanza.-¿Por qué corriendo vienes a mí?-¡Ah, hermano! A casa voy, a morir.
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Delmore Schwartz -The heavy bear who goes with me-
2006-12-02 15:52:14
The heavy bear who goes with meDelmore Schwartz (EEUU, 1913-1966)The heavy bear who goes with me,A manifold honey to smear his face,Clumsy and lumbering here and there,The central ton of every place,The hungry beating brutish oneIn love with candy, anger, and sleep,Crazy factotum, dishevelling all,Climbs the building, kicks the football,Boxes his brother in the hate-ridden city.Breathing at my side, that heavy animal,That heavy bear who sleeps with me,Howls in his sleep for a world of sugar,A sweetness intimate as the water?s clasp,Howls in his sleep because the tight-ropeTrembles and shows the darkness beneath.--The strutting show-off is terrified,Dressed in his dress-suit, bulging his pants,Trembles to think that his quivering meatMust finally wince to nothing at all.That inescapable animal walks with me,Has followed me since the black womb held,Moves where I move, distorting my gesture,A caricature, a swollen shadow,A stupid clown of the spirit?s motive,Perplexes and affronts wit...
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Malcolm Lowry
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Malcolm Lowry (Gran Bretaña, 1909-1957)PoemasMalcolm Lowry -Eye-Opener-Malcolm Lowry -Beneath the Malebolge lies Hastings street...-Malcolm Lowry -Strange type-Malcolm Lowry -Rilke and Yeats-Malcolm Lowry -Epitaph-Malcolm Lowry -Happiness-Malcolm Lowry -Nocturne-Malcolm Lowry -We sit unhackled drunk and mad to edit-Malcolm Lowry -Without the nighted wyvern-Malcolm Lowry -Comfort-Malcolm Lowry -The flowering past-Malcolm Lowry -A dried up river is like the soul-Malcolm Lowry -Songs for second childhood- XII -Malcolm Lowry -The young man from Oaxaca-Malcolm Lowry -A young fellow name Crane-Malcolm Lowry -Delirium in Uruapan-Malcolm Lowry -Delirium in Vera Cruz-Malcolm Lowry -The Devil was a gentleman-Malcolm Lowry -The Moon in Scandinavia-

Malcolm Lowry -Eye-Opener-
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Eye-Open erMalcolm Lowry (Gran Bretaña, 1909-1957)How like a man, is Man who rises lateAnd gazes on his unwashed dinner plateAnd gazes on the bottles, empty too,All gulphed in last night's loud long how-do-you-do,-Although one glass yet holds a gruesome bait-How like to Man is this man and his fate-Still drunk and stumbling through the rusty treesTo breakfast on stale rum sardines and peas.Abridor de ojosCuan semejante a un hombre es el hombre que se levanta tardey contempla los platos sucios de la casa,y contempla las botellas, también vacíastodo ello tragado durante el sordo ¿cómo estas? sin fin de la noche anterior,aunque un vaso todavía contiene un refresco espantoso cuan semejante al hombre es ese hombre y su destino,aún borracho y tropezando entre los árboles amarillentosva a desayunar ron picado, sardinas y guisantes.Versión de M. Antolín Rato
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Robert Lowell
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Robert Lowe ll (EEUU, 1917-1977)PoemasRobert Lowell -Visitors-Robert Lowell -Sailing home from Rapallo-Robert Lowell -To speak of woe that is in marriage-Robert Lowell -Terminal days at Beverly farms-Robert Lowell -Water-Robert Lowell -Fall 1961-Robert Lowell -Burial-Robert Lowell -Relinquunt Omnia Servare Rem Publicam-Robert Lowell -Father's bedroom-
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Robert Lowell -Visitors-
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Visitors Robert Lowell (EEUU, 1917-1977)To no goodthey enter at angles and on the run-two black venicals are suddenly in blue serge,or the police doing double-duty.They comb our intimate, messy bedroom,scrutinize worksheetsillegibJe with second-thoughts,then shed them in their stride,as if they owned the room. They do.They crowd me and scatter-inspectingmy cast-off clothes for clues?They are fat beyond the call of duty-with jocose civility,they laugh at everything I say:"Yesterday I was thiny-two, a threatto the establishment because I was young."The bored woman sergeantis amused by the tiger-toothed samuraigrinning on a ]apanese hanging-"What would it cost? Where could I buy one?"I can see through the moonlit dark;on the grassy London square,black cows ruminate in uniform,lowing routinely like a chainsaw.My visitors are good beef, they too makeOne falsely feel the earth is solid,as they hurry to secretly telephonefrom their ambulance. Click, click, click,goes the red, blue, and whi...
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Maya Angelou
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Maya Angel ou (EEUU, 1928- )PoemasMaya Angelo u -Touched by an angelMaya Angelou -Phenomenal woman-Maya Angelou -Brave and startling truth-Maya Angelou -Human family-Maya Angelou -Still I rise-
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Maya Angelou -Touched by an angel
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Touched by an angel Maya Angel ou (EEUU, 1928- )We, unaccustomed to courageexiles from delightlive coiled in shells of lonelinessuntil love leaves its high holy templeand comes into our sightto liberate us into life.Love arrivesand in its train come ecstasiesold memories of pleasureancient histories of pain.Yet if we are bold,love strikes away the chains of fearfrom our souls.We are weaned from our timidityIn the flush of love's lightwe dare be braveAnd suddenly we seethat love costs all we areand will ever be.Yet it is only lovewhich sets us free.Tocado por un ángelNosotros, desacostumbrados al corajeexiliados del deleiteviviendo arrollados en caparazones de soledadhasta que el amor sale alto en el santo temploy viene a nuestra vistaa liberarnos dentro de la vida.El amor llegay es un tren de éxtasisviejos recuerdos de placerantiguas historias de dolor.Todavía si somos atrevidos,el amor golpea las cadenas del miedode nuestras almas.Nosotros detestamos nuestra timidezEn el rubor de l...
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Thomas Merton -The biography-
2006-12-02 15:52:14
The biographyThom as Merton (EEUU, 1915 - 1968) Oh read the verses of the loaded scourges,And what is written in their terrible remarks;"The Blood runs down the walls of Cambridge town,As useless as the waters of the narrow river--While pub and alley gamble for His vestureAlthough my life is written on Christ's Body like a map,The nails have printed in those open handsMore than the abstract names of sins,More than the countries and the towns,The names of streeets, the numbers of the houses,The record of the days and nights,When I have murdered Him in every square and street.Lance and thorn, and scourge and nailHave more than made His flesh my chronicle.My journeys more than bite His bleeding feet.Christ, from my Cradle, I had known You everywhere,And even though I sinned, I walked in You and knew You were my world:You were my France and England,My seas and my America:You were my life and air, and yet I would not own YouOh, when I loved You, even while I hated You,Loving and yet refu...
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Thomas Merton
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Thomas Merton (EEUU, 1915 - 1968) PoemasThomas Merton -The useless tree-Thomas Merton -The biography-Thomas Merton -No Man is an Island- All men seek peace...-
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Thomas Merton -The useless tree-
2006-12-02 15:52:14
The useless tree Thomas Merton (EEUU, 1915 - 1968)Hui Tzu said to ChuangTzu I have a big tree,The kind they call a "stinktree."The trunk is so distorted,So full of knots,No one can get a straight plankOut of it. The branches are so crookedYou cannot cut them upIn any way that makes sense.There it stands beside the road.No carpenter will even look at it.Such is your teaching?Big and useless.Chuang Tzu replied:Have you ever watched the wildcatCrouching, watching his prey?This way it leaps, and that way,High and low, and at lastLands in the trap.But have you seen the yak?Great as a thundercloudHe stands in his might.Big? Sure,He can't catch mice!So for your big tree. No use?Then plant it in the wastelandIn emptiness. Walk idly around,Rest under its shadow;No axe or bill prepares its end.No one will ever cut it down.Useless ? You should worry!El árbol inútilHui tzu le dijo a Chuang:"Tengo un árbol grande,de los que llaman árboles apestosos.El tronco está tán retorcido,tan lleno de nudos...
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Delmore Schwartz -Do others speak of me mockingly, malicious
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Do others speak of me mockingly, maliciously?Delmore Schwartz (EEUU, 1913-1966)?As in water face answereth face,so the heart of man to man.?Proverbs 27:19Do they whisper behind my back? Do they speakOf my clumsiness? Do they laugh at me,Mimicking my gestures, retailing my shame?I'll whirl about, denounce them, sayingThat they are shameless, they are treacherousNo more my friends, nor will I once againNever, amid a thousand meetings in the street,Recognize their faces, take their hands,Not for our common love or old time's sake:They whispered behind my back,they mimicked me.I know the reason why, I too have done this,Cruel for wit's sake, behind my dear friend?s back,And to amuse betrayed his private love,His nervous shame, her habit, and their weaknesses;I have mimicked them, I have been treacherous,For wit's sake, to amuse, because their being weighedtoo grossly for a time, to be superior,to flatter the listener by this, the intimate,Betraying the intimate, but for the intimate...
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Delmore Schwartz -Seurat's Sunday afternoon along the Seine-
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Seurat's Sunday afternoon along the Seine Delmore Schwartz (EEUU, 1913-1966)To Meyer and Lillian SchapiroWhat are they looking at? Is it the river?The sunlight on the river, the summer, leisure,Or the luxury and nothingness of consciousness?A little girl skips, a ring-tailed monkey hopsLike a kangaroo, held by a lady's lead(Does the husband tax the Congo for the monkey's keep?)The hopping monkey cannot follow the poodle dashing ahead.Everyone holds his heart within his hands:A prayer, a pledge of grace or gratitudeA devout offering to the god of summer, Sunday and plenitude.The Sunday people are looking at hope itself.They are looking at hope itself, under the sun, free from the teething anxiety, the gnawing nervousnessWhich wastes so many days and years of consciousness.The one who beholds them, beholding the gold and greenOf summer's Sunday is himself unseen. This is because he isDedicated radiance, supreme concentration, fanatically threadingThe beads, needles and eyes -at onc...
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Delmore Schwartz -The ballad of the children of the Czar-
2006-12-02 15:52:14
The ballad of the children of the CzarDelmore Schwartz (EEUU, 1913-1966)1 The children of the CzarPlayed with a bouncing ballIn the May morning, in the Czar?s garden,Tossing it back and forth.It fell among the flowerbedsOr fled to the north gate.A daylight moon hung upIn the Western sky, bald white.Like Papa?s face, said Sister,Hurling the white ball forth.2While I ate a baked potatoSix thousand miles apart,In Brooklyn, in 1916,Aged two, irrational.When Franklin D. RooseveltWas an Arrow Collar ad.O Nicholas! Alas! Alas!My grandfather coughed in your army,Hid in a wine-stinking barrel,For three days in BucharestThen left for AmericaTo become a king himself.3I am my father?s father,You are your children?s guilt.In history?s pity and terrorThe child is Aeneas again;Troy is in the nursery,The rocking horse is on fire.Child labor! The child must carryHis fathers on his back.But seeing that so much is pastAnd that history has no ruthFor the individual,Who drinks tea, who catches cold,Let ...
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Delmore Schwartz
2006-12-02 15:52:14
Delmore Schwartz (EEUU, 1913-1966)PoemasDelmore Schwartz -The ballad of the children of the Czar-Delmore Schwartz -The heavy bear who goes with me-Delmore Schwartz -Seurat's Sunday afternoon along the Seine-Delmore Schwartz -Do others speak of me mockingly, maliciously?-Delmore Schwartz -In the naked bed, in Plato's cave-Delmore Schwartz -Baudelaire-
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Thomas Merton -No Man is an Island- All men seek peace...-
2006-12-02 15:52:14
No man is an island- All men seek peace...Thomas Merton (EEUU, 1915-1968) All men seek peace first of all with themselves. That is necessary, because we do not naturally find rest even in our own being.We have to learn to commune with ourselves before we can communicate with other men and with God. A man who is not at peace with himself necessarily projects his interior fighting into the society of those he lives with, and spreads a contagion of conflict all around him. Even when he tries to do good to others his efforts are hopeless, since he does not know how to do good to himself. In moments of wildest idealism he may take it into his head to make other people happy: and in doing so he will overwhelm them with his own unhappiness. He seeks to find himself somehow in the work of making others happy. Therefore he throws himself into the work. As a result he gets out of the work all that he put into it: his own confusion, his own disintegration, his own unhappiness. Ningún hombre e...
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John Ashbery -City afternoon-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
City afternoon John Ashbery (EEUU, 1927- ) A veil of haze protects thisLong-ago afternoon forgotten by everybodyIn this photograph, most of them nowSucked screaming through old age and death. If one could seize AmericaOr at least a fine forgetfulnessThat seeps into our outlineDefining our volume with a stainThat is fleeting too But commemoratesBecause it does define, after allGray garlands, that threesomeWaiting for the light to change,Air lifting the hair of oneUpside down in the reflecting pool. Una tarde citadina Un velo de niebla protege estaLejana tarde por todos olvidadaEn dicha fotografía, ellos ahora en conjuntoAbsortos gimiendo a través de la vejez o la muerte. Si uno pudiera aprender los Estados UnidosO por lo menos una refinada omisiónQue se filtre en nuestro perfilPrecisando nuestros espacios con una sombraQue sea fugaz también. Pero que celebrePorque en verdad define, después de todo:Guirnaldas grises, aquel tercetoAguardando la luz para cambiar,El aire ...
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John Ashbery -An additional poem-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
An additional poem John Ashbery (EEUU, 1927- ) Where then shall hope and fear their objects find?The harbor cold to the mating ships,And you have lost as you stand by the balconyWith the forest of the sea calm and gray beneath.A strong impression torn from the descending lightBut night is guilty. You knew the shadowIn the trunk was ravingBut as you keep growing hungry you forget.The distant box is open. A sound of grainPoured over the floor in some eagerness -- weRise with the night let out of the box of wind. Uu poema adicional ¿Cuándo entonces la esperanza y el miedo sus objetos encontrarán?El puerto frío para las embarcaciones de apareo,Y has perdido mientras te colocas por la galeríaCon la calmada y gris selva del mar debajo.Una fuerte impresión rasgada desde la luz descendientePero la noche es culpable. Sabías que la sombraEn el baúl era delirantePero mientras más hambre tienes olvidas.La lejana caja esta abierta. Un sonido de granosPrecipitado sobre el suelo con ...
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John Ashbery -Self-portrait in a convex mirror-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
Self -portrait in a convex mirror John Ashbery (EEUU, 1927- ) As Parmigianino did it, the right handBigger than the head, thrust at the viewerAnd swerving easily away, as though to protectWhat it advertises. A few leaded panes, old beams,Fur, pleated muslin, a coral ring run togetherIn a movement supporting the face, which swimsToward and away like the handExcept that it is in repose. It is what isSequestered. Vasari says, "Francesco one day set himselfTo take his own portrait, looking at himself from that purposeIn a convex mirror, such as is used by barbers . . .He accordingly caused a ball of wood to be madeBy a turner, and having divided it in half andBrought it to the size of the mirror, he set himselfWith great art to copy all that he saw in the glass,"Chiefly his reflection, of which the portraitIs the reflection, of which the portraitIs the reflection once removed.The glass chose to reflect only what he sawWhich was enough for his purpose: his imageGlazed, embalmed, ...
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John Ashbery -The task-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
The task John Ashbery (EEUU, 1927- ) It is the blankness that follows gaiety, and Everyman must departOut there into stranded night, for his destinyIs to return unfruitful out of the lightness That passing time evokes. It was onlyCloud-castles, adept to seize the past.And possess it, through hurting. And the way is clearNow for linear acting into that timeIn whose corrosive mass he first discovered how to breathe.(...) La faena Se están preparando para volver a empezar:Problemas, nuevo gallardete en lo alto del mástilEn un romance aseverado. Por la hora en que el sol comienza a cortar lateralmente a travésDel hemisferio occidental con sus sombras, sus ecos de carnaval,Los territorios fugitivos se amontonan bajo nombres separados.Es la blancura que gana a la juerga, y todo hombre debe partirAllá afuera hacia la noche varada, pues su destinoEs regresar sin provecho de la liviandadQue evoca el tiempo al pasar. Fue sóloCastillos de nube, hábil en capturar el pasadoY p...
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John Ashbery -Song-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
Song John Ashbery (EEUU, 1927- ) The song tells us of our old way of living,Of life in former times. Fragrance of florals,How things merely ended when they ended,Of beginning again into a sigh. Later Some movement is reversed and the urgent masksSpeed toward a totally unexpected endLike clocks out of control. Is this the gestureThat was meant, long ago, the curving in Of frustrated denials, like jungle foliageAnd the simplicity of the ending all to be let goIn quick, suffocating sweetness? The dayPuts toward a nothingness of sky Its face of rusticated brick. Sooner or later,The cars lament, the whole business will be hurled down.Meanwhile we sit, scarcely daring to speak,To breathe, as though this closeness cost us life. The pretensions of a past will some dayMake it over into progress, a growing up,As beautiful as a new history bookWith uncut pages, unseen illustrations, And the purpose of the many stops and starts will be made clear:Backing into the old affair of not want...
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John Ashbery -The chateau hardware-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
The chateau hardware John Ashbery (EEUU, 1927- ) It was always November there. The farmsWere a kind of precinct; a certain controlHad been exercised. The little birdsUsed to collect along the fence.It was the great ?as though,? the how the day went,The excursions of the policeAs I pursued my bodily functions, wantingNeither fire nor water,Vibrating to the distant pinchAnd turning out the way I am, turning out to greet you. La ferretería campestre Ahí siempre era Noviembre. Las granjasEran una especie de distritos; se había ejercidoUn cierto control. Los pájaros pequeñosSolían congregarse sobre la cerca.Ocurría el gran ?como si?, el cómo iba el día,Las excursiones policialesMientras yo proseguía mis funciones corporales, deseandoNi agua ni fuego,Vibrando hacia el remoto pellizcarY volviéndome como soy, volviéndome a recibirte.
More About: Hardware , Chat , Hate , War

John Ashbery -The love interest-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
The love interestJohn Ashbery (EEUU, 1927- ) We could see it coming from forever,then it was simply here, parallelto the day?s walking. By then it was wewho had disappeared, into the tunnel of a book. Rising late at night, we join the currentof tomorrow?s news. Why not? Unlikesome others, we haven?t anything to ask foror borrow. We?re just pieces of solid geometry: cylinders or rhomboids. A certain satisfactionhas been granted us. Sure, we keep coming backfor more?that?s part of the ?human? aspectof the parade. And there are darker regions penciled in, that we should explore some time.For now it?s enough that this day is over.It brought its load of freshness, dropped it offand left. As for us, we?re still here, aren?t we? La historia de amor La vimos venir desde siempre,luego ya estaba aquí, en líneacon el paseo de aquel día. Para entonces, éramos nosotroslos que habíamos desaparecido, en el túnel de un libro. Despertando en la madrugada, nos unimos al flujode las noticias...
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Simon Armitage -Poem-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
Poem Simon Armitage (England, 1963 - ) And if it snowed and snow covered the drivehe took a spade and tossed it to one side.And always tucked his daughter up at night.And slippered her the one time that she lied. And every week he tipped up half his wage.And what he didn?t spend each week he saved.And praised his wife for every meal she made.And once, for laughing, punched her in the face. And for his mum he hired a private nurse.And every Sunday taxied her to church.And he bubbled when she went from bad to worse.And twice he lifted ten quid from her purse. Here?s how they rated him when they looked back:sometimes he did this, sometimes he did that. Poema Y si nevaba y la nieve cubría el caminoAgarraba la pala y la hacía a un lado.Y siempre arropaba a su hija por la noche.Y una vez que mintió le pegó con la chancla. Y cada semana se bebía la mitad de su sueldo.Y los que no gastaba cada semana lo ahorraba.Y alababa todas las comidas de su esposa.Y una vez, por reírse la ...

Simon Armitage -Snow joke-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
Snow joke Simon Armitage (England, 1963 - ) Heard the one about the guy from Heaton Mersey?Wife at home, lover in Hyde, mistressin Newton-le-Willows and two pretty girlsin the top grade at Werneth prep. Well, he was late and he had a good car so he snubbedthe police warning-light and tried to finessethe last six miles of moorland blizzard,and the story goes he was stuck within minutes. So he sat there thinking about life and things;what the dog does when it catches its tailand about the snake that ate itself to death.And he watched the windscreen filling up with snow, and it felt good, and the whiskyfrom his hip-flask was warm and smooth.And of course, there isn?t a punchlinebut the ending goes something like this. They found him slumped against the steering wheelwith VOLVO printed backwards in his frozen brow.And they fought in the pub over hot toddiesas who was to take the most credit. Him who took the aerial to be a hawthorn twig?Him who figured out the contour of his ca...
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Maya Angelou -Brave and startling truth-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
Brave and startling truth Maya Angel ou (EEUU, 1928- ) (...) We, this people on a small and lonely planet Traveling through causal spacePast aloof stars, across the way of indifferent sunsTo a destination where all signs tell usIt is possible and imperative that we discoverA brave and startling truthAnd when we come to itTo the day of peacemakingWhen we release our fingersFrom fists of hostilityAnd alow the pure air to cool our palms When we come to itWhen the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hateAnd faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed cleanWhen battlefields and coliseumNo longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughtersUp with the bruised and bloody grassTo lie in identical plots in foreign landsWhen the rapacious storming of churchesThe screaming racket in the temples have ceasedWhen the pennants are waving gailyWhen the banners of the world trambleStoutly in the good, clean breeze When we come to itWhen we let the rifles fall from our shouldersAnd children dr...
More About: Truth , Rave , Start , Star

Archie Randolph Ammons -Their sex life-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
Their sex life Archi e Randolph Ammons (1926- ) One failure onTop of another Su vida sexual Un fracaso encima del otro
More About: Life , Archie Randolph Ammons , Archie , Mons

Archie Randolph Ammons -Beautiful Woman-
2006-11-28 03:33:02
Beautiful Woman Archi e Randolph Ammons (1926- ) The springin her stephas turned tofall Mujer bonita La primaveraa su pasose ha convertido enotoño.
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Conrad Aiken -Portrait of a girl.
2006-11-28 03:33:02
Port rait of a girl Conrad (Potter) Aiken (1889-1978) This is the shape of the leaf, and this of the flower,And this the pale bole of the treeWhich watches its boughs in a pool of unwavering waterIn a land we never shall see. The thrush on the bough is silent, the dew falls softly,In the evening is hardly a sound.And the three beautiful pilgrims who come here togetherTouch lightly the dust of the ground, Touch it with feet that trouble the dust but as wings do,Come shyly together, are still,Like dancers who wait, in a pause of the music, for musicThe exquisite silence to fill. This is the thought of the first, and this of the second,And this the grave thought of the third:"Linger we thus for a moment, palely expectant,And silence will end, and the bird "Sing the pure phrase, sweet phrase, clear phrase in the twilightTo fill the blue bell of the world; And we, who on music so leaf like have drifted together,Leaflike apart shall be whirled Into what but the beauty of silence, s...
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