William Blake - The Whore of Babylon
2009-01-11 17:44:00 William Blake The Whore of Babylon (1809) Never seek to tell thy love * Love that never told can be; For the gentle wind does move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my love, I told her all my heart; Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears– Ah, she doth depart. Soon as she was gone from me A traveller came by; Silently, invisibly– O, was no deny. William Blake, 1793 * traduzione di Giuseppe Iannozzi Mai cercare di dichiarare amore amore che non può esser detto; perché gentile soffia il vento silente, invisibile. ...
William Blake - The Mental Traveller.
2008-07-22 17:47:00 I TRAVELLED through a land of men A land of men and women too; And heard and saw such dreadful things As cold earth-wanderers never knew. For there the babe is born in joy that was begotten in dire woe; Just as we reap in joy the fruit Which we in bitter tears did sow. And, if the babe is born a boy, He’s ...
William Blake - Auguries of Innocence
2008-07-22 17:13:00 To see a wold in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower; Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour A Robin redbreasts in a case Puts all heaven in a rage; A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons Shudders hell through all its regions. A dog starved at his master’s gate Predicts the ruin ...
Debt to Income Ratio Posted By : William Blake..
2008-05-07 14:09:00 There are many factors that lenders consider when deciding whether or not to extend credit to someone applying for a loan. Credit score, down payment, and the purpose of the loan are all factors. There is one factor that is looked at probably more closely than any other though, and that is the debt to income ratio. This is the way that a lender determines how likely a consumer is to be able to make timely payments for the life of the loan. Understanding how the debt to income ratio is determined is the key to making sure that you're in a position to obtain credit in the future. Credit scores hold a lot of importance today. Your credit score will affect you in many ways other than securing a loan. To improve your credit score first you must understand how credit scores work. Read more about Credit and Personal Finance.
William Blake
2008-03-13 05:50:00 William Blake was born in London on November 28, 1757, to James, a hosier, and Catherine Blake. Two of his six siblings died in infancy. From early childhood, Blake spoke of having visions?at four he saw God “put his head to the window”; around age nine, while walking dathrough the countryside, he saw a tree ...
(William Blake - Red Sun)
2008-03-06 15:53:00 (William Blake - Red Sun)Leggi ancora | Pubblicato da B3to | Commenti &-nbsp; &n-bsp; &nb-sp; &nbs-p; -;
How Secured Debt Consolidation Works Posted By : William Blake
2007-12-21 22:35:00 When people are faced with a lot of debt, whether from credit card, department store cards or some other form of consumer credit, the best solution for paying it off is often to consolidate all the balances with a single loan. In most cases, these consolidation loans are secured by some sort of collateral, such as a house or car. Many graduates think that the six months they have before the required scheduled repayment of their various college debts seems like forever. The six months is nothing compared to the years and years of payments ahead of you. A consolidation of student loans can make the monthly much less painful. Read more about finance and student loans.
Credit Card Counseling - Getting Out Of Debt Posted By : William Blake
2007-12-20 22:33:00 Sometimes things come up that are out of our control and we need to use a credit card for the purchase because we don't have the cash on hand. Other times, we just have to have the latest toy or gadget and use a credit card to buy it. But when the bill comes due, it can be unpleasant. The tax laws can be incredibly complicated to understand, especially for the Small Business Owner like yourself. How can you be expected to run your business AND keep up with all the tax rules and regulations? That's why over the years I've discovered many tax-saving strategies that will reduce your tax bill each and every year. These "strategies" are not difficult to understand, nor are they hard to implement.
Opinions Quotes - William Blake
2007-10-09 18:58:00 “The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind.” William Blake (1757 – 1827) English poet and painter
Tarot Deck William Blake
2007-09-19 00:58:00 William Blake Tarot Deck: A review To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower,Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And eternity in an hour.- William Blake Recently, I came across a new tarot deck, William Blake tarot deck. If you like Osho Zen tarot, you will like William Blake tarot also. After a long time I am writing about tarot. I feel so good and comfortable. William Blake tarot is a deck for the creative people, for the writers, musicians and artists. William Blake was a 18th century mystic, poet and a romantic painter. He had a unique style of his own. This tarot deck is reproduction of his work. William Blake created a personal mythology with the Zoas as the characters. Zoas are God-like imaginary creature. Zoas are trump cards in this tarot deck. William Blake tarot deck has one additional trump card called "Eternity" with the number 00. It is the symbol of spiritual reality and creative imagina...
By: Tarot Power
Excerpt from William Blake?s ?On Another?s Sorrow?
2007-08-19 11:00:00 Here is one stanza from a nine stanza poem by William Blake that appears in “Songs of Innocence.” I read it as speaking of compassion as part of our interdependent connection…and a sense of spiritual care. –JGR ON ANOTHER’S SORROW (stanza 1 of 9) Can I see another’s woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another’s ...
William Blake. Ilustrador, artista
2007-05-21 09:02:00 William Blake (Londres, 28 de noviembre de 1757 ? id. 12 de agosto de 1827) fue un poeta, pintor, grabador y mstico ingls. Aunque permaneci en gran parte desconocido durante el transcurso de su vida, actualmente el trabajo de Blake cuenta con una alta consideracin. Por la relacin que en su obra tienen la poesa ...
By: teimagino
William Blake: Greatest Briton
2007-05-19 15:44:00 A while back the BBC had a poll to find out the "Top 100 greatest Briton". Predictably the winner was Winston Churchill. In many ways Churchill deserves it. He was the emblem of our fight against Hitler and Nazism. As a person he had many great qualities. But, he also had many failings, not least his Imperialism. Anyway my choice for greatest Briton would be William Blake. Why? He was a great Poet. He was a genuine mystic who could see beyond the ordinary world. To see a world in a grain of sand And heaven in a wild flower Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And eternity in an hour." From: Auguries of Innocence He was a passionate critic of slavery, ignorance and oppression. - You feel in reading Blake he really identifies with other people's suffering. Thus Blake was able to give us a vision of immortality, but at the same time he shone a light on the ignorance of the time. Poetry of Blake at Poet Seers I wrote more on this at Greatest Briton's
The Tyger by William Blake
2007-02-19 16:20:00 Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? By: William Blake From the poem: The Tyger Photo By: Jimbo
February 10, 2007 (William Blake, William Shakesphere, Albert Camus, Mikhai
2007-02-11 10:08:03 High Contrast--Literature of the Digital Evolution February 10, 2007 Hello and Welcome! Today I wanted to display two of my all-time favorite classical poems, and two essays by two of the most profou...
February 10, 2007 (William Blake, William Shakesphere, Albert Camus, Mikhai
2007-02-10 18:08:00 High Contrast--Literature of the Digital Evolution February 10, 2007 Hello and Welcome! Today I wanted to display two of my all-time favorite classical poems, and two essays by two of the most profou...
February 10, 2007 (William Blake, William Shakesphere, Albert Camus, Mikhai
2007-02-10 10:03:00 High Contrast--Literature of the Digital Evolution February 10, 2007 Hello and Welcome! Today I wanted to display two of my all-time favorite classical poems, and two essays by two of the most profou...
Ver num gro de areia um mundo - William Blake
2006-11-28 19:00:02 Ver num gro de areia um mundonuma flor um cu profundo;ter na mo a infinidade,num minuto a eternidade... O morcego que volitapela noite, esse acredita;mas a coruja que grita,porque no cr anda aflita... Olha a dor: um tecidocom a alegria: um vestidopara a alma. Sob a dorsempre a alegria anda flor... Cada lgrima choradaTorna-se em criana alada... Balir, uivar - que sei eu?ondas a bater no cu... Quem duvida do que v,Por mais que faa, no cr,Olha o sol, se duvidava:Logo, logo se apagava... Deus claro na amarguradas almas da noite escura;Veste o manto de Jesuspara as que vivem luz. William Blake (b. London, 28 Nov 1757; d. London, 12 Aug 1827).Trad. de Luiz Cardim, in Rosa do Mundo - 2001 Poemas para o futuro, Assrio & Alvim.
By: Nothingandall
William Blake -The Echoing Green-
2006-04-10 05:14:00 The Echoing GreenWilliam Blake (1757-1827)The sun does arise,And make happy the skies;The merry bells ringTo welcome the spring;The skylark and thrush,The birds of the bush,Sing louder aroundTo the bell's cheerful sound,While our sports shall be seenOn the Echoing Green.Old John with white hair,Does laugh away care,Sitting under the oak,Among the old folk.They laugh at our play,And soon they all say:"Such, such were the joysWhen we all, girls and boys,In our youth time were seenOn the Echoing Green."Till the little ones, weary,No more can be merry;The sun does descend,And our sports have an end.Round the laps of their mothersMany sisters and brother,Like birds in their nest,Are ready for rest,And sport no more seenOn the darkening Green.El Prado ResonanteSe eleva el soly los cielos se vuelven dichosos;resuenan alegres las campanascomo bienvenida para la primavera;la alondra y el zorzal,las aves de los arbustos,trinan estrepitosamenteante el sonido jovial de las campanas,mientras nu...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -Ah Sunflower-
2006-04-10 05:11:00 Ah SunflowerWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Ah Sunflower, weary of time,Who countest the steps of the sun;Seeking after that sweet golden climeWhere the traveller's journey is done;Where the Youth pined away with desire,And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,Arise from their graves, and aspireWhere my Sunflower wishes to go!Ah Girasol!Ah, girasol! Hastiado del tiempo,contaste las pisadas del Sol,y buscaste aquel clima dulce y doradodonde concluye el rumbo del viajero:all donde la juventud ardiente de deseos,y donde la Virgen joven amortajada en nieve,se levantan de sus tumbas y anhelan irhacia donde mi girasol desea llegar.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The shepherd-
2006-04-10 05:07:00 The shepherdWilliam Blake (1757-1827)How sweet is the shepherd's sweet lot!From the morn to the evening he strays;He shall follow his sheep all the day,And his tongue shall be filled with praise.For he hears the lambs' innocent call,And he hears the ewes' tender reply;He is watchful while they are in peace,For they know when their shepherd is nigh.El pastorQu dulce es la dulce fortuna del Pastor!Deambula desde el alba hasta el atardecer;debe seguir a su rebao el da entero,y su lengua se embeber con alabanzas.Pues oye el inocente llamado del borrego,y escucha la tierna respuesta de l a oveja;vigila mientras permanecen en calmapues saben cundo est prximo su Pastor.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -To Tirzah-
2006-04-10 05:04:00 To TirzahWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Whate'er is Born of Mortal BirthMust be consumed with the EarthTo rise from Generation free:Then what have I to do with thee?The Sexes sprung from Shame & Pride,Blow'd in the morn, in evening died;But Mercy chang'd Death into Sleep;The Sexes rose to work & weep.Thou, Mother of my Mortal part,With cruelty didst mould my Heart,And with false self-deceiving tearsDidst bind my Nostrils, Eyes, & Ears:Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay,And me to Mortal Life betray.The Death of Jesus set me free:Then what have I to do with thee?A TirzahTodo lo Nacido de Origen Mortaldeber consumirse con la Tierrapara elevarse libre de la Procreacin:entonces, qu tengo yo que ver contigo?Los Sexos brotaron de la Vergenza y el Orgullo,resoplaron en la maana; sucumbieron al atardecer,pero la Misericordia transform a la Muerte en Sueo:los Sexos se irguieron para trabajar y padecer.T, Madre de mi parte Mortal,con crueldad modelaste mi corazn,y con lgrimas fals...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The voice of the ancient bard-
2006-04-10 05:01:00 The voice of the ancient bardWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Youth of delight, come hither,And see the opening morn,Image of truth new born.Doubt is fled, & clouds of reason,Dark disputes & artful teazing.Folly is an endless maze,Tangled roots perplex her ways.How many have fallen there!They stumble all night over bones of the dead,And feel they know not what but care,And wish to lead others, when they should be led.La voz del bardo ancianoJvenes del deleite, disponeosa ver la maana que despunta,imagen de la verdad recin nacida.Huyeron la duda, las nubes de la razn,las oscuras querellas y las bromas arteras.La locura es una confusin interminable,cuyas races enmaraadas complican sus senderos.Cuntos son los que all cayeron!Tropiezan toda la noche con los huesos de los muertos.y sienten que no saben qu pero les importa,y a otros quieren guiar, cuando ellos precisan un gua.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The little girl found-
2006-04-10 04:44:00 The little girl foundWilliam Blake (1757-1827)All the night in woe,Lyca's parents go:Over vallies deep.While the desarts weep.Tired and woe-begone.Hoarse with making moan:Arm in arm seven days.They trac'd the desert ways.Seven nights they sleep.Among shadows deep:And dream they see their childStarvdd in desart wild.Pale thro' pathless waysThe fancied image strays.Famish'd, weeping, weakWith hollow piteous shriekRising from unrest,The trembling woman prest,With feet of weary woe;She could no further go.In his arms he bore.Her arm'd with sorrow sore:Till before their wayA couching lion lay.Turning back was vain,Soon his heavy mane.Bore them to the ground;Then he stalk'd around.Smelling to his prey,But their fears allay,When he licks their hands:And silent by them stands.They look upon his eyesFill'd with deep surprise:And wondering behold.A spirit arm'd in gold.On his head a crownOn his shoulders down,Flow'd his golden hair.Gone was all their care.Follow me he said,Weep not f...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The little boy found-
2006-04-10 04:41:00 The little boy found William Blake (1757-1827)The little boy lost in the lonely fen,Led by the wandering light,Began to cry, but God, ever nigh,Appeared like his father, in white.He kissed the child, and by the hand led,And to his mother brought,Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale,The little boy weeping sought.El niito encontradoEl niito perdido en el pantano solitario,guiado por la luz errante,empez a llorar; pero Dios, siempre cercano,apareci como su padre, vestido de blanco.Bes al chiquillo y tomndole la manolo condujo hasta su madre,que plida de pena, por el solitario valle,llorando a su hijito buscaba.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The little black boy-
2006-04-10 04:37:00 The little black boyWilliam Blake (1757-1827)My mother bore me in the southern wild,And I am black, but oh my soul is white!White as an angel is the English child,But I am black, as if bereaved of light.My mother taught me underneath a tree,And, sitting down before the heat of day,She took me on her lap and kissed me,And, pointed to the east, began to say:'Look on the rising sun: there God does live,And gives His light, and gives His heat away,And flowers and trees and beasts and men receiveComfort in morning, joy in the noonday.'And we are put on earth a little space,That we may learn to bear the beams of loveAnd these black bodies and this sunburnt faceIs but a cloud, and like a shady grove.'For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear,The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice,Saying, 'Come out from the grove, my love and careAnd round my golden tent like lambs rejoice','Thus did my mother say, and kissed me;And thus I say to little English boy.When I from black an...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The human abstract-
2006-04-10 04:33:00 The human abstractWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Pity would be no moreIf we did not make somebody Poor;And Mercy no more could beIf all were as happy as we.And mutual fear brings peace,Till the selfish loves increase:Then Cruelty knits a snare,And spreads his baits with care.He sits down with holy fears,And waters the grounds with tears;Then Humility takes its rootUnderneath his foot.Soon spreads the dismal shadeOf Mystery over his head;And the Catterpiller and FlyFeed on the Mystery.And it bears the fruit of Deceit,Ruddy and sweet to eat;And the Raven his nest has madeIn its thickest shade.The Gods of the earth and seaSought thro' Nature to find this Tree;But their search was all in vain:There grows one in the Human Brain.Resumen humanoNo existira la Piedadsi no hiciramos pobre a alguien;y no hara falta la Misericordiasi todos fuesen tan dichosos como nosotros.Y el miedo recproco trae paz,hasta que el amor egosta se incrementa:entonces la Crueldad arma su trampay esparce sus cebos ...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The clod and the pebble-
2006-04-10 04:29:00 The clod and the pebbleWilliam Blake (1757-1827)'Love seeketh not itself to please,Nor for itself hath any care,But for another gives its ease,And builds a heaven in hell's despair.'So sung a little clod of clay,Trodden with the cattle's feet;But a pebble of the brookWarbled out these meters meet: 'Love seeketh only Self to please,To bind another to its delight,Joys in another's loss of ease,And builds a hell in heaven's despite.'El terrn y el guijarro"El amor no anhela complacerse a s mismoni por s mismo se inquieta,en cambio al otro da sosiego,y construye un Cielo en la desolacin del Infierno."As cantaba un diminuto Terrn de Arcillapisoteado por las patas del ganado,pero un Guijarro del caadnmurmur estos versos apropiados:"El amor slo busca darse el gusto,y encadenar al otro a su deleite,se regocija con el desconsuelo ajeno,y construye un Infierno a expensas del Cielo."
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The schoolboy-
2006-04-10 04:23:00 The schoolboy William Blake (1757-1827)I love to rise in a summer mornWhen the birds sing on every tree;The distant huntsman winds his horn,And the skylark sings with me.O! what sweet company!But to go to school on a summer morn,O! it drives all joy away;Under a cruel eye outworn,The little ones spend the dayIn sighing and dismay.Ah! then at times I drooping sit,And spend many an anxious hour,Nor in my book can I take delight,Nor sit in learning's bower,Worn thro' with the dreary shower.How can the bird that is born for joySit in a cage and sing?How can a child, when fears annoy,But droop his tender wing,And forget his youthful spring?O! father and mother, if buds are nippedAnd blossoms blown away,And if the tender plants are strippedOf their joy in the springing day,By sorrow and care's dismay,How shall the summer arise in joy,Or the summer's fruits appear?Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,Or bless the mellowing year,When the blasts of winter appear?El escolarAdoro lev...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -On another's sorrow-
2006-04-10 04:17:00 On another's sorrowWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Can I see another's woe,And not be in sorrow too?Can I see another's grief,And not seek for kind relief?Can I see a falling tear,And not feel my sorrow's share?Can a father see his childWeep, nor be with sorrow filled?Can a mother sit and hearAn infant groan, an infant fear?No, no! never can it be!Never, never can it be!And can He who smiles on allHear the wren with sorrows small,Hear the small bird's grief and care,Hear the woes that infants bear --And not sit beside the next,Pouring pity in their breast,And not sit the cradle near,Weeping tear on infant's tear?And not sit both night and day,Wiping all our tears away?Oh no! never can it be!Never, never can it be!He doth give his joy to all:He becomes an infant small,He becomes a man of woe,He doth feel the sorrow too.Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,And thy Maker is not by:Think not thou canst weep a tear,And thy Maker is not year.Oh He gives to us his joy,That our grief He may dest...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The land of dreams-
2006-04-09 22:49:00 The land of dreamsWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Awake, awake, my little boy!Thou wast thy mother's only joy;Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?Awake! thy father does thee keep.'O, what land is the Land of Dreams?What are its mountains, and what are its streams?O father! I saw my mother there,Among the lilies by waters fair.'Among the lambs, clothd in white,She walk'd with her Thomas in sweet delight.I wept for joy, like a doveI mourn; O! when shall I return again?Dear child, I also by pleasant streamsHave wander'd all night in the Land of Dreams;But tho' calm and warm the waters wide,I could not get to the other side.'Father, O father! what do we hereIn this land of unbelief and fear?The Land of Dreams is better far,Above the light of the morning star'.El pas de los sueosDespierta, despierta, mi pequeo!T eras la nica alegra de tu madre;Por qu lloras en tu sueo tranquilo?Despierta! Tu padre te protege.'Oh, que tierra es la Tierra de los Sueos?Cules son sus mon...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -A little girl lost-
2006-04-09 22:39:00 A little girl lostWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Children of the future age, Reading this indignant page, Know that in a former time, Love, sweet Love, was thought a crime!In the Age of Gold Freefrom winter's cold,Youth and maiden brightTo the holy light,Naked in the sunny beams delight.Once a youthful pair,Fill'd with softest care,Met in garden brightWhere the holy lightHad just remov'd the curtains of the night.There, in rising day,On the grass they play;Parents were afar,Strangers came not near,And the maiden soon forgot her fear.Tired with kisses sweet,They agree to meetWhen the silent sleepWaves o'er heaven's deep,And the weary tired wanderers weep.To her father whiteCame the maiden bright;But his loving look,Like the holy book,All her tenders limbs with terror shook.'Ona! pale and weak!To thy father speak:O! the trembling fearO! the dismal care,That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair!'Una pequea nia perdidaNios de una edad futura,Al leer esta pgina indignada, Sabed que ...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -A little boy lost-
2006-04-09 22:37:00 A little boy lost William Blake (1757-1827)"Nought loves another as itself,Nor venerates another so,Nor is it possible to thoughtA greater than itself to know."And, father, how can I love youOr any of my brothers more?I love you like the little birdThat picks up crumbs around the door."The Priest sat by and heard the child;In trembling zeal he seized his hair,He led him by his little coat,And all admired the priestly care.And standing on the altar high,"Lo, what a fiend is here! said he:"One who sets reason up for judgeOf our most holy mystery."The weeping child could not be heard,The weeping parents wept in vain:They stripped him to his little shirt,And bound him in an iron chain,And burned him in a holy placeWhere many had been burned before;The weeping parents wept in vain.Are such thing done on Albion's shore?El nio perdido"Nadie ama a otro como a s mismoy a nadie venera ms.Ni es posible al pensamientoconocer algo superior a l.Cmo puedo amarte, padre, ms?Cmo amar ms a...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The new Jerusalem-
2006-04-09 22:32:00 The new JerusalemWilliam Blake (1757-1827)And did those feet in ancient timeWalk upon England's mountains green?And was the holy Lamb of GodOn England's pleasant pastures seen?And did the Countenance DivineShine forth upon the clouded hills?And was Jerusalem build hereAmong these dark Satanic Mills?Bring me my bow of burning gold!Bring me my arrows of desire!Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!Bring me my charriot of fire!I will not cease from mental fight,Nor shall my sword sleep in my handTill we have built JerusalemIn England's green and pleasant land.La nueva JerusalnY caminaron de antiguo esos piesPor las verdes montaas de Inglaterra?Y fue el sagrado Cordero de DiosVisto en las plcidas praderas de Inglaterra?Y brill el semblante divinoSobre nuestras nubladas colinas?Y se construy Jerusaln aquEntre estos oscuros Molinos Satnicos?Traedme mi arco de oro ardiente!Traedme mis flechas de deseo!Traedme mi lanza! Oh nubes, abros!Traedme mi carroza de fuego!No cesar...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The Tiger-
2006-04-09 22:21:00 The TigerWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Tyger! Tyger! burning brightIn the forests of the night,What immortal hand or eyeCould frame thy fearful symmetry?In what distant deeps or skiesBurn the fire of thine eyes?On what wings dare he aspire?What the hand dare sieze the fire?And what shoulder, & what art,Could twist the sinews of thy heart?And when thy heart began to beat,What dread hand? & what dread feet?What the hammer? what the chain?In what furnace thy brain?What the anvil? what the dread graspDare its deadly terrors clasp?When the stars threw down their spear,And water'd heaven with their tears,Did he smile his work to see?Did he who made the Lamb make thee?Tyger! Tyger! burning brightIn the forests of the night,What immortal hand or eyeDare frame thy fearful symmetry?El tigreTigre! Tigre! luz llameanteEn los bosques de la noche,Qu ojo o mano inmortalPudo idear tu terrible simetra?En qu distantes abismos, en qu cielos,Ardi el fuego de tus ojos?Con qu alas os elevarse...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The sick rose-
2006-04-09 22:16:00 The sick roseWilliam Blake (1757-1827)O Rose, thou art sick!The invisible wormThat flies in the night,In the howling storm,Has found out thy bedOf crimsom joy,And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy.La rosa enfermaOh, Rosa, ests enferma!El gusano invisibleQue vuela por la noche,En la tempestad que alla,Ha descubierto tu camaDe gozo carmes,Y su amor oscuro, secreto,Te consume la vida.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -Nurse's song-
2006-04-09 21:48:00 Nurse's song William Blake (1757-1827)When voices of children are heard on the greenAnd laughing is heard on the hill,My heart is at rest within my breastAnd everything else is stillThen come home my children the sun is gone downAnd the dews of night ariseCome come leave off play, and let us awayTill the morning appears in the skiesNo no let us play, for it is yet dayAnd we cannot go to sleepBesides in the sky, the little birds flyAnd the hills are all covered with sheepWell well go & play till the light fades awayAnd then go home to bedThe little ones leaped & shouted & laugh'dAnd all the hills echoedCantar de la nieraCuando las voces de los nios se oyen en el pradoy las risas alcanzan la colina,mi corazn se aquieta en el pechoy todo lo dems queda en silencio."Venid a casa, hijos mos, que el sol ya se ha puestoy los rocos de la noche se elevan;venid, venid, basta de juegos, vayamos a reposarhasta que la maana surja en los cielos.""No, no, djanos jugar, que todava hay...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -My pretty rose tree-
2006-04-09 21:44:00 My pretty rose tree William Blake (1757-1827)A flower was offered to me,Such a flower as May never bore;But I said 'I've a pretty rose tree,'And I passed the sweet flower o'er.Then I went to my pretty rose tree,To tend her by day and by night;But my rose turned away with jealousy,And her thorns were my only delight.Mi bonito rosalMe ofrecieron una flor,una flor tal que nunca se vio en mayo.Pero yo dije: "Tengo un bonito rosal",y pas por alto a la dulce flor.Fui entonces hasta mi Bonito Rosaly lo cuid de da y de noche;pero mi Rosa me dio la espalda, celosa,y sus espinas fueron mi solo deleite.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -London-
2006-04-09 21:39:00 LondonWilliam Blake (1757-1827)I wandered through each chartered street,Near where the chartered Thames does flow,A mark in every face I meet,Marks of weakness, marks of woe.In every cry of every man,In every infant's cry of fear,In every voice, in every ban,The mind-forged manacles I hear:How the chimney-sweeper's cryEvery blackening church appals,And the hapless soldier's sighRuns in blood down palace-walls.But most, through midnight streets I hearHow the youthful harlot's curseBlasts the new-born infant's tear,And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.LondresDeambulo- por cada calle privilegiadacerca de donde fluye el privilegiado Tmesis,y hay marcas en cada rostro que encuentro:seales de flaqueza, signos de sufrimiento.En cada grito de cada Hombre,en los clamores de miedo de los nios,en cada voz, en cada proclama,oigo las cadenas forjadas por la mente.Y cmo el grito del deshollinadora toda sombra iglesia consterna;y el suspiro del infortunado soldadocorre hecho sangr...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The little vagabond-
2006-04-09 21:36:00 The little vagabondWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Dear mother, dear mother, the church is cold,But the ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm;Besides I can tell where I am used well,Such usage in Heaven will never do well.But if at the church they would give us some ale,And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,We'd sing and we'd pray all the live-long day,Nor ever once wish from the church to stray.Then the parson might preach, and drink, and sing,And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring;And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.And God, like a father rejoicing to seeHis children as pleasant and happy as he,Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.El pequeo vagabundoQuerida madre, querida madre, qu helada est la Iglesia,pero la taberna es reconfortante, agradable y clida;adems, s perfectamente dnde me tratan bien,aunque tal trato en el cielo nunca dar...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The lily-
2006-04-09 21:33:00 The lilyWilliam Blake (1757-1827)The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:While the Lily white shall in love delight,Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.El lirioLa modesta Rosa pone al frente una espina,y el humilde Carnero un cuerno amenazador.Mientras, el blanco lirio se deleita en el amor:ni espinas ni amenazas ensucian su belleza radiante.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -Introduction to Songs of Experience-
2006-04-09 21:28:00 Introduction to Songs of ExperienceWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Hear the voice of the Bard,Who present, past, and future, sees;Whose ears have heardThe Holy WordThat walk'd among the ancient trees;Calling the lapsd soul,And weeping in the evening dew;That might controlThe starry pole,And fallen, fallen light renew!'O Earth, O Earth, return!Arise from out the dewy grass!Night is worn,And the mornRises from the slumbrous mass.'Turn away no more;Why wilt thou turn away?The starry floor,The watery shore,Is given thee till the break of day.Introduccin a los Cantos de ExperienciaEscuchen la voz del Bardo!El que contempla Presente, Pasado y Futuro;cuyos odos escucharonla Palabra Sagrada,el que anduvo entre los ancianos rboles.Convocaba al Alma descarriada,lloraba en el roco del crepsculo;el que poda controlarel polo estrellado,y renovar la luz cada, rebajada.Oh Tierra, Oh Tierra, regresa!"Emerge de la hierba plena de roco;la noche se agotay la maanase yergue desde la masa aletar...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -Introduction to the Songs of Innocence-
2006-04-09 21:24:00 Introduction to the Songs of InnocenceWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Piping down the valleys wild,Piping songs of pleasant glee,On a cloud I saw a child,And he laughing said to me:'Pipe a song about a Lamb!'So I piped with merry cheer.'Piper, pipe that song again;'So I piped: he wept to hear.'Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;Sing thy songs of happy cheer:!'So I sang the same again,While he wept with joy to hear.'Piper, sit thee down and writeIn a book, that all may read.'So he vanish'd from my sight;And I pluck'd a hollow reed,And I made a rural pen,And I stain'd the water clear,And I wrote my happy songsEvery child may joy to hear.Introduccin a los Cantos de InocenciaSoplaba mi flautn por valles silvestres,tocaba canciones de jbilo afable,en una nube distingu a un nio,que con risas me dijo:"Sopla un cantar que hable del Cordero!"Y lo toqu con nimo risueo."Flautista, sopla de nuevo ese cantar".Volv a hacerlo: llor al escucharlo."Suelta tu flautn, tu flautn dichoso;can...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -Holy Thursday (2)-
2006-04-08 21:17:00 Holy Thursday (2)William Blake (1757-1827)Is this a holy thing to see.In a rich and fruitful land.Babes reduced to misery.Fed with cold and usurous hand?Is that trembling cry a song?Can it be a song of joy?And so many children poor?It is a land of poverty!And their sun does never shine.And their fields are bleak & bare.And their ways are fill'd with thornsIt is eternal winter there.For where-e'er the sun does shine.And where-e'er the rain does fall:Babe can never hunger there,Nor poverty the mind appall.Jueves Santo (2)Acaso es algo santoen una tierra rica y fructferaver a bebs condenados a la miseriay alimentados con mano fra y usurera?Es este clamor tembloroso una cancin?Puede ser llamado un canto de jbilo?Con tantas criaturas miserables?Esta es una tierra de pobreza!Y su sol no brilla jams,y sus campos son pramos desnudos,y sus senderos estn plagados de espinas:el invierno eterno se impone all.Pues dondequiera que brille el sol,donde sea que caiga la lluvia,los n...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -Holy Thursday-
2006-04-08 21:09:00 Holy ThursdayWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,Came children walking two and two, in read, and blue, and green:Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow,Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames waters flow.Oh what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town!Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own.The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.Now like a mighty wild they raise to heaven the voice of song,Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among:Beneath them sit the aged man, wise guardians of the poor.Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.Jueves SantoEra un jueves Santo, limpios sus rostros inocentes,los nios andaban en parejas, de rojo, azul y verde,bedeles canosos iban delante, con varas blancas como nieve,fluyendo como el Tmesis hasta dentro de la alta cpula de San Pab...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The garden of Love-
2006-04-08 21:06:00 The garden of LoveWilliam Blake (1757-1827)I went to the Garden of Love,And saw what I never had seen;A Chapel was built in the midst,Where I used to play on the green.And the gates of this Chapel were shutAnd "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;So I turned to the Garden of LoveThat so many sweet flowers bore.And I saw it was filled with graves,And tombstones where flowers should be;And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,And binding with briars my joys and desires.El jardn del AmorFui hasta el jardn del Amor,y vi lo que jams haba visto:una Capilla construida en su centro,sobre el verde donde de nio jugaba.Los portales de la Capilla estaban cerrados,y escrito sobre la puerta haba un "No lo hars",as que me volv hacia el jardn del Amordonde crecan tantas delicias floridas.Y vi que estaba lleno de tumbas,con lpidas donde deban verse flores;y Curas de sotanas negras rondabany ponan vallas a mis gozos y deseos.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The fly-
2006-04-08 21:04:00 The flyWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Little Fly,Thy summer's playMy thoughtless handHas brushed away.Am not IA fly like thee?Or art not thouA man like me?For I danceAnd drink, and sing,Till some blind handShall brush my wing.If thought is lifeAnd strength and breathAnd the wantOf thought is death;Then am IA happy fly,If I live,Or if I die.La moscaPequea mosca,tu juguete veraniegofue truncadopor mi descuidada mano.No soy youna mosca como t?O no eres tun hombre como yo?Porque bailoy bebo, y cantohasta que alguna mano ciegame barre el ala.Si el pensamiento es vida,fortaleza y aliento;y la carenciade pensamiento es muerte;entonces yo soyuna mosca feliz,ya vivo, ya muerto.
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -Earth's answer-
2006-04-08 21:01:00 Earth's answerWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Earth raised up her headFrom the darkness dread and drear,Her light fled,Stony, dread,And her locks covered with grey despair.'Prisoned on watery shore,Starry jealousy does keep my denCold and hoar;Weeping o're,I hear the father of the ancient men.'Selfish father of men!Cruel, jealous, selfish fear!Can delight,Chained in night,The virgins of youth and morning bear?'Does spring hide its joy,When buds and blossoms grow?Does the sowerSow by night,Or the plowman in darkness plough?'Break this heavy chain,That does freeze my bones around!Selfish, vain,Eternal bane,That free love with bondage bound.'Respuesta de la TierraLa Tierra alz su cabezadesde la tiniebla pavorosa, lgubre.Carente de luz,ptreo espanto.Con su cabellera cubierta de grisdesesperacin."Aprisionada- en la costa empapada,un centelleo celoso custodia miescondrijofro y helado,y entre lgrimasescucho al Padre de los hombresantiguos.Padre egosta de los hombres!Miedo cruel, ce...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -The chimney-sweeper-
2006-04-08 20:54:00 The chimney-sweeperWilliam Blake (1757-1827)When my mother died I was very young,And my father sold me while yet my tongueCould scarcely cry "Weep! weep! weep! weep!"So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved; so I said,"Hush, Tom! never mind it, for, when your head's bare,You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."And so he was quiet, and that very night,As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight! --That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.And by came an angel, who had a bright key,And he opened the coffins, and let them all free;Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing, they run,And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind;And the Angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.And so...
By: Poemas en ingles
William Blake -A poison tree-
2006-04-08 20:51:00 A poison treeWilliam Blake (1757-1827)I was angry with my friend:I told my wrath, my wrath did end.I was angry with my foe:I told it not, my wrath did grow.And I watered it in fears,Night and morning with my tears;And I sunned it with smiles,And with soft deceitful wiles.And it grew both day and night,Till it bore an apple bright.And my foe beheld it shine.And he knew that it was mine,And into my garden stoleWhen the night had veiled the pole;In the morning glad I seeMy foe outstretched beneath the tree.Un rbol venenosoEstaba enojado con mi amigo:le manifest mi ira, la ira termin.Estaba enojado con mi enemigo:me qued callado, y mi ira aument.En el miedo la fui regando,de noche y de da con mis lgrimas;con sonrisas la fui asoleando,y con sutiles y arteras estratagemas.As creci de da y de noche,hasta volverse una brillante manzana;y mi enemigo observ su brillo,y supo que era ma,y furtivo entr a mi jardncuando la noche envolvi al follaje.Por la maana satisfecho via mi en...
By: Poemas en ingles
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