Chicago PoemsHenry Holt, 1916 - 183 psl. |
Turinys
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
accordion anod answer AZTEC beat beautiful blood blue bones broken bronze bunkshooter Caissons CARL SANDBURG Chamfort Chicago Poems child dark dead Death dollars dreams dusk dust eyes face floor Giovannitti girls glad gone good-by gray guns HALSTED STREET hands harvest moon head heart hills hold hydrangeas India Paper Jesus Jesus of Nazareth kill laughing laughter lips look memories million mist MOMUS moon morning mouth muckers never nigger night onions pass passers-by piled play poetry poppies prairie prayer of thanks purple railroad rain reckless remember ROBERT FROST roses running sarcophagus shadows shoulders shovels silent silver singing skyscraper sleep smash smile soft songs stars straight street stuff sunset talk tell things thousand throat to-morrow toil voices walls wheels WHITELIGHT William Morris wind woman women wonder yellow young
Populiarios ištraukos
3 psl. - HOG Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler ; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of the Big Shoulders...
3 psl. - Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning. Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities...
183 psl. - Mr. Frost's First Volume of Poetry "We have read every line with that amazement and delight which are too seldom evoked by books of modern verse.
130 psl. - NOCTURNE iN A DESERTED BRICKYARD Stuff of the moon Runs on the lapping sand Out to the longest shadows. Under the curving willows, And round the creep of the wave line, Fluxions of yellow and dusk on the waters Make a wide dreaming pansy of an old pond in the night.
61 psl. - When are you going to quit making the carpenters build emergency hospitals for women and girls driven crazy with wrecked nerves from your gibberish about Jesus— I put it to you again: Where do you get that stuff; what do you know about Jesus?
8 psl. - I came suddenly at the city's edge, On a blue burst of lake, Long lake waves breaking under the sun On a spray-flung curve of shore ; And a fluttering storm of gulls, Masses of great gray wings And flying white bellies Veering and wheeling free in the open.
85 psl. - Held where he cannot move: Under the sun Are sixteen million men, Chosen for shining teeth, Sharp eyes, hard legs, And a running of young warm blood in their wrists. And a red juice runs on the green grass; And a red juice soaks the dark soil. And the sixteen million are killing . . . and killing and killing. I never forget them day or night: They beat on my head for memory of them; They pound on my heart and I cry back to them, To their homes and women, dreams and games. I wake in the night and...
118 psl. - Monotone The monotone of the rain is beautiful, And the sudden rise and slow relapse Of the long multitudinous rain. The sun on the hills is beautiful, Or a captured sunset sea-flung, Bannered with fire and gold. A face I know is beautiful— With fire and gold of sky and sea, And the peace of long warm rain.
7 psl. - LOST DESOLATE and lone All night long on the lake Where fog trails and mist creeps, The whistle of a boat Calls and cries unendingly, Like some lost child In tears and trouble Hunting the harbor's breast And the harbor's eyes.
64 psl. - ... of gab from a bunkshooter in my religion. I won't take my religion from any man who never works except with his mouth and never cherishes any memory except the face of the woman on the American silver dollar. I ask you to come through and show me where you're pouring out the blood of your life. I've been to this suburb of Jerusalem they call Golgotha, where they nailed Him, and I know if the story is straight it was real blood ran from His hands and the nail-holes, and it was real blood spurted...