Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

Betrothed

You have put your two hands upon me, and your mouth,You have said my name as a prayer.Here where trees are planted by the waterI have watched your..

© Louise Bogan

Sonnet

Since you would claim the sources of my thoughtRecall the meshes whence it sprang unlimed,The reedy traps which other hands have timesTo close upon..

© Louise Bogan

Juan's Song

When beauty breaks and falls asunderI feel no grief for it, but wonder.When love, like a frail shell, lies broken,I keep no chip of it for token.I..

© Louise Bogan

The Frightened Man

In fear of the rich mouthI kissed the thin,--Even that was a trapTo snare me in.Even she, so longThe frail, the scentless,Is become strong,And proves..

© Louise Bogan

Epitaph For A Romantic Woman

She has attained the permanenceShe dreamed of, where old stones lie sunning.Untended stalks blow over herEven and swift, like young men..

© Louise Bogan

Women

Women have no wilderness in them,They are provident instead,Content in the tight hot cell of their heartsTo eat dusty bread.They do not see cattle..

© Louise Bogan

The Alchemist

I burned my life, that I might findA passion wholly of the mind,Thought divorced from eye and bone,Ecstasy come to breath alone.I broke my life, to..

© Louise Bogan

Men Loved Wholly Beyond Wisdom

Men loved wholly beyond wisdomHave the staff without the banner.Like a fire in a dry thicketRising within women's eyesIs the love men must..

© Louise Bogan

Medusa

I had come to the house, in a cave of trees,Facing a sheer sky.Everything moved, -- a bell hung ready to strike,Sun and reflection wheeled by.When..

© Louise Bogan

Last Hill In A Vista

Come, let us tell the weeds in ditchesHow we are poor, who once had riches,And lie out in the sparse and soddenPastures that the cows have..

© Louise Bogan

Portrait

She has no need to fear the fallOf harvest from the laddered reachOf orchards, nor the tide gone ebbingFrom the steep beach.Nor hold to pain's..

© Louise Bogan

Knowledge

Now that I knowHow passion warms littleOf flesh in the mould,And treasure is brittle,--I'll lie here and learnHow, over their groundTrees make a long..

© Louise Bogan

The Crossed Apple

I’ve come to give you fruit from out my orchard,Of wide report.I have trees there that bear me many apples.Of every sort:Clear, streaked; red and..

© Louise Bogan

Man Alone

It is yourself you seekIn a long rage,Scanning through light and darknessMirrors, the page,Where should reflected beThose eyes and that thick..

© Louise Bogan

Song For The Last Act

Now that I have your face by heart, I lookLess at its features than its darkening frameWhere quince and melon, yellow as young flame,Lie with quilled..

© Louise Bogan

Tears In Sleep

All night the cocks crew, under a moon like day,And I, in the cage of sleep, on a stranger's breast,Shed tears, like a task not to be put away---In..

© Louise Bogan

Roman Fountain

Up from the bronze, I sawWater without a flawRush to its rest in air,Reach to its rest, and fall.Bronze of the blackest shade,An element..

© Louise Bogan

The Dream

O God, in the dream the terrible horse beganTo paw at the air, and make for me with his blows,Fear kept for thirty-five years poured through his..

© Louise Bogan

Everness (& interpretation)

There is only one thing. It is oblivion.God, who saves the metal, saves the slagand encrypts in his prophetic memorythe moons that will be and those..

© Jorge Luis Borges

Cosmogony (& translation)

Neither darkness nor chaos. the darknessrequires eyes that see, like soundand silence require hearing,and the mirror, the form that populates..

© Jorge Luis Borges

Simplicity

It opens, the gate to the gardenwith the docility of a pagethat frequent devotion questionsand inside, my gazehas no need to fix on objectsthat..

© Jorge Luis Borges

Browning Decides To Be A Poet

In these red labyrinths of LondonI find that I have chosenthe strangest of all callings,save that, in its way, any calling is strange.Like the..

© Jorge Luis Borges

The Other Tiger

A tiger comes to mind. The twilight hereExalts the vast and busy LibraryAnd seems to set the bookshelves back in gloom;Innocent, ruthless..

© Jorge Luis Borges

Susana Soca

With lingering love she gazed at the dispersedColors of dusk. It pleased her utterlyTo lose herself in the complex melodyOr in the cunous life to be..

© Jorge Luis Borges

That One

Oh days devoted to the useless burdenof putting out of mind the biographyof a minor poet of the Southem Hemisphere,to whom the fates or perhaps the..

© Jorge Luis Borges