trivia. Who's the author

[akarunway 1]

Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.
These laid the world away; poured out the red
Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be
Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene,
That men call age; and those who would have been,
Their sons, they gave, their immortality.


Blow, bugles, blow! They brought us, for our dearth,
0 Holiness, lacked so long, and Love, and Pain,
1Honour has come back, as a king, to earth,
And paid his subjects with a royal wage; And Nobleness walks in our ways again;
And we have come into our heritage.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

[Unstable 9]

Rupert Brooke. Do I win?!?!

He did quite a few other remarkeable works...

=========Shaun ==========

[misskriss 0]

Who's the Author....

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr god, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

[akarunway 1]

LOL Ding Ding we have a wiener

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

[akarunway 1]

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr god, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air. ------------------------------------------ Ya got me. Do tell

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

[akarunway 1]

I’m simply surrounded by lovers,
Since Da made his fortune in land;
They’re comin’ in crowds like the plovers
To ax for me hand.
There’s clerks and policemen and teachers,
Some sandy, some black as a crow;
Ma says ye get used to the creatures,
But, ach, I dunno!


The convent is in a commotion
To think of me taking a spouse,
And they wonder I hadn’t the notion
Of taking the vows.
‘Tis a beautiful life and a quiet,
1 And keeps ye from going below,
As a girl I thought I might try it,
But, ach, I dunno!


I’ve none but meself to look after,
An’ marriage it fills me with fears,
I think I’d have less of the laughter
And more of the tears.
I’ll not be a slave like me mother,
With six of us all in a row,
Even one little baby’s a bother,
But, ach, I dunno!


There’s a lad that has taken me fancy,
I know he’s a bit of a limb,
And though marriage is terrible chancy,
I’d -- chance it with him.
He’s coming to-night -- oh -- I tingle,
From the top of me head to me toe,
=====================

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

[Jumpervint 0]

I'll play.

Sylvia Plath.

Vint

. . . . .
"Make it hard again." Doc Ed

“A person needs a little madness, or else they never dare cut the rope and be free” Nikos Kazantzakis

[Nightingale 0]

Percy French

[Nightingale 0]

Here's a harder one... this is one of my most favorite poems


J'ai une telle conscience de ton etre,
rose complete,
que mon consentement te confond
avec mon coeur en fete.

Je te resprire comme si tu etais, rose,
toute la vie,
et je me sense l'ami parfait
d'une telle amie.


and another... different author, much easier

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

[srg 0]

I'm not familiar with the first passage (and my french isn't quite good enough to appreciate its meaning), but the second is none other than "Wild Bill" Shakespeare.

Spencer

"Be braver -- you can't cross a chasm in two small jumps."

[Frenchy68 0]

Rilke

"For once you have tasted Absinthe you will walk the earth with your eyes turned towards the gutter, for there you have been and there you will long to return."

[Nightingale 0]

yep. Rilke wrote the first, and Shakespeare wrote the second.

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