Puisiku

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Agar karya pujangga lama tetap diingat dan dikenang meskipun sudah termasuk barang langka dan sebagi contoh untuk karya-karya para pujangga baru. Jadi untuk mendapatkan koleksi lengkapnya dipersilahkan untuk membeli buku aslinya meskipun saya akan akan berusaha untuk memosting informasi sebanyak yang bisa saya dapatkan.

Karya-karya pribadi saya untuk umum silahkan dibaca dan jika diunduh mohon agar mencantumkan alamat blog saya, trima kasih continue

My Poem

All the contents of this Poem blog are belong to the greatest and famous Indonesian Poet and the world Poet. I dedicate this blog to help students and all people who want to know all about their greatest poem.

The old poem to make us remember and knowing their ancestral coz it’s been become scarce goods and to be example for the new one. So I recommend buying the books if you want to know more about your favorite Poet thought I will try to posting as much as I could find about them.

And for my poem it’s free to read and please to involving my blog address when you want to reposting it, thanks continue

Continue ...

Kidung Kesunyian

Diantara desah dan jerit aku mengadu
Diantara tangis dan ratap aku memuja
Diantara putus asa dan peluh aku merindu
Dan diantara jalan yang kutempuh dia ada

Sementara bayangan hitam kelam masa silam bertahta
Ku tetap mencari, menanti secercah sinar bahagia
Sementara asa mencekam erat menyayat jiwa
Dia tetap angkuh dalam gemerlap tahta

Melihatnya, menyentuhnya, memeluknya, membelainya
Laksana gurauan serpihan kaca berlumur duka
Setiap waktu, setiap mimpi, setiap langkah, setiap nafas
Laksana petikan dawai, kidung kebahahiaannya disurga

dniwansa '06 Continue ...

Puisiku

Kidung Kesunyian

Diantara desah dan jerit aku mengadu
Diantara tangis dan ratap aku memuja
Diantara putus asa dan peluh aku merindu
Dan diantara jalan yang kutempuh dia ada
Continue ... Continue ...

Faces

Thousand times the nomadic trough the days
She seen beautiful face, sexy body, angel lullaby
Don't they know that's all feel so empty

Why didn't dare to take off those faces
Why should be hide, should be acting
Why used lie to cover anything

Where the real soul that she really want to see
No lie no act just the real of them could be
Don't understand what really they want to be

Her soul been tired, been bored, been dying
All she need just one more time to seeing
So could leaving this life with smilling and believing

niwansari '11 Continue ...

The tears of the war

Dark, no light no color, Is that what you see?
Silent, no life no instinct, I hesitate you are human
Quiet, no speak no sign, I though your voice has been take out away

We here! bleeding, crying, screaming
Why didn't you leave us alone?
We didn't need your help; we didn't need your money

Are the money, powerful and glory the most important things in you life?
Don’t; don't ever say you know what the best for us
No! we are too afraid by all you did to shake your hands

You did anything to get what you want...
Are we too worming than your pets?
Are we having no right to life?
Why?

Because we are different than you are?
Because we are not as clever, rich and powerful as you are? Or
Because we born in the wrong time and wrong place?
How if you are in our place?

There was black and white, right and wrong, goodness and evil
Are that your justification for all you done?
No! all of it created to completing each other
Because all of the differences was beautiful

Stop it!
Leave us alone....
Let us finding our own way to life....


niwansari Feb'11
Continue ...

Fie, Pleasure, Fie!

Fie, pleasure, fie! thou cloyest me with delight;
Thou fill'st my mouth with sweetmeats overmuch;
I wallow still in joy both day and night:
I deem, I dream, I do, I taste, I touch
No thing but all that smells of perfect bliss,
Fie, pleasure, fie! I cannot like of this.

To taste, sometimes, a bait of bitter gall,
To drink a draught of sour ale some season,
To eat brown bread with homely hands in hall,
Doth much increase man's appetites, by reason,
And makes the sweet more sugared that ensues,
Since minds of men do still seek after news.

It might suffice that Love hath built his bower
Between my lady's lively shining eyes;
It were enough that beauty's fading flower
Grows ever fresh with her in heavenly wise;
It had been well that she were fair of face,
And yet not rob all other dames of grace.

To muse in mind, how wise, how fair, how good,
How brave, how frank, how courteous, and how true
My lady is, doth but inflame my blood
With humours such as bid my health adieu:
Since hap always when it is clomb* on high, [climbed]
Doth fall full low, though erst* it reached the sky. [before]

Lo, pleasure, lo! lo, thus I lead a life
That laughs for joy and trembleth oft for dread;
Thy pangs are such as call for change's knife
To cut the twist, or else to stretch the thread,
Which holds yfeer* the bundle of my bliss: [in fear]
Fie, pleasure, fie! I dare not trust to this.

by George Gascoigne Continue ...

A Tongue -- to tell Him I am true!

A Tongue -- to tell Him I am true!
Its fee -- to be of Gold --
Had Nature -- in Her monstrous House
A single Ragged Child --

To earn a Mine -- would run
That Interdicted Way,
And tell Him -- Charge thee speak it plain --
That so far -- Truth is True?

And answer What I do --
Beginning with the Day
That Night -- begun --
Nay -- Midnight -- 'twas --
Since Midnight -- happened -- say --

If once more -- Pardon -- Boy --
The Magnitude thou may
Enlarge my Message -- If too vast
Another Lad -- help thee --

Thy Pay -- in Diamonds -- be --
And His -- in solid Gold --
Say Rubies -- if He hesitate --
My Message -- must be told --

Say -- last I said -- was This --
That when the Hills -- come down --
And hold no higher than the Plain --
My Bond -- have just begun --

And when the Heavens -- disband --
And Deity conclude --
Then -- look for me. Be sure you say --
Least Figure -- on the Road --

by by Emily Dickinson Continue ...

Went to the deep end

Quiet, it's been so lonely I do, feels emptiness
Something loosed, I ever found it ... leaving much missing
It's desirable when I give my soul to change this fate ...
The dark of bird in my heart has been release all of the dreams
Let's me just be broken heart ... I fondle it hearty
I still keeping the dream and hopeless that flying with you

Far away ... I hear the night bird whispering emptiness
I am breathing with your shadow that brought by the wind
The afternoon coming, I had dark night and I can feel your present
But the light on my loneliness opening my eyes, wake me up
I am still alone ...

All of the way I try to passed by
The days has been leaving me far away
Just the dream and the hopes that I leaned of
Still be there searchings and waiting
Because my life is suck of sad story that covered by loneliness dream
But my love is the sun that will be cleared away of the day


niwansaei Jan '11
Continue ...

The ballad of orchid love

When I was loved, I didn't know why I could not love
Now that I love, it’s really hurting to know that I am not loved
When I was loved, I thought it was so hard to feeling loved
And when I am fall in love, why it's just a shadow of love

My tear goes down by the time of looking and waiting......
Its feel gone bring a part of my heart, leaving the other loneliness
Why I have to life without it, all the thing just a dream, emptiness
No smile and love any more, no joy and laugh, no nothing....

Wishing my heart free and fly but thousand's of obstacle in front of me
I don't want to give up but my petal has been ripped
Between on pieces of my heart, you blame everything on me
All that I need is some time although anything can't be changed

When I'd been throw away, I know that I'm not more than the wild grass
But I will be life for love, every minute, day, years or longer
I wish it life likes the sun, that always cleared away of the days
No one can take it all away, It will be life for eternity and even longer


niwansari Jan '11
Continue ...

MELANKOLIA

Seperti barisan mahoni di tepi jalan
Tubuhku tegak sepanjang ceruk subuh
Dan bayang hitamku terkapar di aspal
Menekuri arah kendaraan dan merkuri

Azan berkumandang mengajakku pulang
Tapi gema membuat banyak makna suara
Menggambar persimpangan bagi langkah
Dan cuaca menawarkan mimpi indah juga

Derita. Aku bimbang di antara bintang
Sisa. Dan sebuah tabrakan keras sulit
Terhindarkan. Aku berantakan dan luka
Hati belah dua dalam langit melankolia


Dua Kumpulan Sajak"Penunggu Makam"
by Beni R. Budiman - 1996 Continue ...

AKU

Kalau sampai waktuku
'Ku mau tak seorang kan merayu
Tidak juga kau

Tak perlu sedu sedan itu

Aku ini binatang jalang
Dari kumpulannya terbuang

Biar peluru menembus kulitku
Aku tetap meradang menerjang

Luka dan bisa kubawa berlari
Berlari
Hingga hilang pedih peri

Dan aku akan lebih tidak perduli

Aku mau hidup seribu tahun lagi

by Chairil Anwar - Maret 1943 Continue ...

SAJAK PALSU

Selamat pagi pak, selamat pagi bu, ucap anak sekolah
dengan sapaan palsu. Lalu merekapun belajar
sejarah palsu dari buku-buku palsu. Di akhir sekolah
mereka terperangah melihat hamparan nilai mereka
yang palsu. Karena tak cukup nilai, maka berdatanganlah
mereka ke rumah-rumah bapak dan ibu guru
untuk menyerahkan amplop berisi perhatian
dan rasa hormat palsu. Sambil tersipu palsu
dan membuat tolakan-tolakan palsu, akhirnya pak guru
dan bu guru terima juga amplop itu sambil berjanji palsu
untuk mengubah nilai-nilai palsu dengan
nilai-nilai palsu yang baru. Masa sekolah
demi masa sekolah berlalu, merekapun lahir
sebagai ekonom-ekonom palsu, ahli hokum palsu,
ahli pertanian palsu, insinyur palsu. Sebagian
menjadi guru, ilmuwan dan seniman palsu. Dengan gairah tinggi
mereka menghambur ke tengah pembangunan palsu
dengan ekonomi palsu sebagai panglima palsu. Mereka saksikan
ramainya perniagaan palsu dengan ekspor
dan impor palsu yang mengirim dan mendatangkan
berbagai barang kelontong kualitas palsu.
Dan bank-bank palsu dengan giat menawarkan bonus
dan hadiah-hadiah palsu tapi diam-diam meminjam juga
pinjaman dengan ijin dan surat palsu kepada bank negeri
yang dijaga pejabat-pejabat palsu. Masyarakat pun berniaga
dengan uang palsu yang dijamin devisa palsu. Maka
uang-uang asing menggertak dengan kurs palsu
sehingga semua blingsatan dan terperosok krisis
yang meruntuhkan pemerintahan palsu ke dalam
nasib buruk palsu. Lalu orang-orang palsu
meneriakkan kegembiraan palsu dan mendebatkan
gagasan-gagasan palsu di tengah seminar
dan dialog-dialog palsu menyambut tibanya
demokrasi palsu yang berkibar-kibar begitu nyaring
dan palsu

by Agus R. Sarjono Continue ...

PELABUHAN PULAU TERASING

Pulau diri Pulau tak terkata
seribu tahun kau terkubur dalam tubuhku
dalam orang yang telah bertuhan
berumah pada daun-daun yang tak berpohon
kita telah berlayar untuk berlupa pada darat:
pelabuhan yang mendingin dalam diriku

dan tuhan mengalir dalam kesembunyian rahasia
menjadi petaka semesta hari

aku berkata dalam laut yang tidur dalam sukma ikan
mencari tanah tanah jauh tak berkota
waktu yang terkubur seribu tahun:
aku mau hidup dalam nama-nama kematian

dan tuhan berenang-renang dalam laut yang hilang dalam diriku
tak tahu mau pulang ke mana

dalam kuburmu: semua telah berlabuh

by Afrizal Malna, 1982. Continue ...

SAJAK SEORANG PENGUNGSI

Napasku yang mengandung api selalu ingin membakar apapun
Di jantungku gedung-gedung yang tinggi sudah kukaramkan
Sedang sungai-sungai yang kotor kubiarkan menggenangi mataku
Dengan lahap aku mengucup borok-borok peradaban yang berlalat
Untuk kumuntahkan kembali lewat sajak-sajakku. Sepanjang hari
Tak habis-habisnya aku mereguk keringat dan darah negeri ini
Menyusuri lekuk tubuhnya yang molek dengan belati terhunus
Kemudian melempari gambar pemimpinnya yang nampang
Di papan iklan. Menyanyikan lagu dangdut di bawah tiang bendera

Suaraku yang memendam racun ingin menyumpahi siapapun
Ranjang-ranjang yang nyaman kusingkirkan dari ingatan
Sedang kekerasan yang terjadi di jalanan telah memaksaku
Menjadi bajingan. Kembali aku mengembara dalam kesamaran
Dalam kehampaan, kekosongan serta ketiadaan rambu-rambu
Aku mengetuk losmen, menggedor apartemen dan mendobrak
Gedung parlemen. Kemudian melolong dalam kesakitan panjang:
Sambil berjoget aku terbangkan sajak-sajakku ke planet terjauh
Karena bumi sudah tak mampu memahami ungkapanku lagi

by ACEP ZAMZAM NOOR Continue ...

A Woman's Reason

I'm Sure every Word that you say is Absurd;
I Say it's All Gummidge and Twaddle;
You may Argue away till the 19th of May,
But I don't like the Sound of the Moddle!

by Gelett Burgess Continue ...

The Complaint unto Pity

Pite, that I have sought so yore agoo
With herte soore and ful of besy peyne,
That in this world was never wight so woo
Withoute deth-- and yf I shal not feyne,
My purpos was to Pite to compleyne
Upon the crueltee and tirannye
Of Love, that for my trouthe doth me dye.

And when that I, be lengthe of certeyne yeres,
Had evere in oon a tyme sought to speke,
To Pitee ran I al bespreynt with teres
To prayen hir on Cruelte me awreke.
But er I myghte with any word outbreke
Or tellen any of my peynes smerte,
I fond hir ded, and buried in an herte.

Adoun I fel when that I saugh the herse,
Ded as a ston while that the swogh me laste;
But up I roos with colour ful dyverse
And pitously on hir myn eyen I caste,
And ner the corps I gan to presen faste,
And for the soule I shop me for to preye.
I was but lorn, ther was no more to seye.

Thus am I slayn sith that Pite is ded.
Allas, that day, that ever hyt shulde falle.
What maner man dar now hold up his hed?
To whom shal any sorwful herte calle?
Now Cruelte hath cast to slee us alle,
In ydel hope, folk redeless of peyne,
Syth she is ded, to whom shul we compleyne?

But yet encreseth me this wonder newe,
That no wight woot that she is ded, but I--
So many men as in her tyme hir knewe--
And yet she dyed not so sodeynly,
For I have sought hir ever ful besely
Sith first I hadde wit or mannes mynde,
But she was ded er that I koude hir fynde.

Aboute hir herse there stoden lustely,
Withouten any woo as thoughte me,
Bounte parfyt, wel armed and richely,
And fresshe Beaute, Lust, and Jolyte,
Assured Maner, Youthe, and Honeste,
Wisdom, Estaat, Drede, and Governaunce,
Confedred both by honde and alliaunce.

A compleynt had I, writen in myn hond,
For to have put to Pite as a bille;
But when I al this companye ther fond,
That rather wolden al my cause spille
Then do me help, I held my pleynte stille,
For to that folk, withouten any fayle,
Withoute Pitee ther may no bille availe.

Then leve I al these vertues, sauf Pite,
Kepynge the corps as ye have herd me seyn,
Confedered alle by bond of Cruelte[Riv., p. 641]
And ben assented when I shal be sleyn.
And I have put my complaynt up ageyn,
For to my foes my bille I dar not shewe,
Th'effect of which seith thus, in wordes fewe:

(The Bill of Complaint)

Humblest of herte, highest of reverence,
Benygne flour, coroune of vertues alle,
Sheweth unto youre rial excellence
Youre servaunt, yf I durste me so calle,
Hys mortal harm in which he is yfalle,
And noght al oonly for his evel fare,
But for your renoun, as he shal declare.

Hit stondeth thus: your contraire, Crueltee,
Allyed is ayenst your regalye
Under colour of womanly Beaute--
For men shulde not, lo, knowe hir tirannye--
With Bounte, Gentilesse, and Curtesye,
And hath depryved yow now of your place
That hyghte 'Beaute apertenant to Grace.'

For kyndely by youre herytage ryght
Ye ben annexed ever unto Bounte;
And verrayly ye oughte do youre myght
To helpe Trouthe in his adversyte.
Ye be also the corowne of Beaute,
And certes yf ye wanten in these tweyne,
The world is lore; ther is no more to seyne.

Eke what availeth Maner and Gentilesse
Withoute yow, benygne creature?
Shal Cruelte be your governeresse?
Allas, what herte may hyt longe endure?
Wherfore, but ye the rather take cure
To breke that perilouse alliaunce,
Ye sleen hem that ben in your obeisaunce.

And further over yf ye suffre this,
Youre renoun ys fordoo than in a throwe;
Ther shal no man wite well what Pite is.
Allas, that your renoun is falle so lowe!
Ye be than fro youre heritage ythrowe
By Cruelte that occupieth youre place,
And we despeyred that seken to your grace.

Have mercy on me, thow Herenus quene,
That yow have sought so tendirly and yore;
Let som strem of youre lyght on me be sene
That love and drede yow ever lenger the more;
For sothly for to seyne I bere the soore,
And though I be not konnynge for to pleyne,
For Goddis love have mercy on my peyne.

My peyne is this, that what so I desire
That have I not, ne nothing lyk therto;
And ever setteth Desir myn hert on fire.
Eke on that other syde where so I goo,
What maner thing that may encrese my woo,
That have I redy, unsoght, everywhere;
Me lakketh but my deth and than my here.

What nedeth to shewe parcel of my peyne?
Syth every woo that herte may bethynke
I suffre and yet I dar not to yow pleyne;
For wel I wot although I wake or wynke,
Ye rekke not whether I flete or synke.
But natheles yet my trouthe I shal sustene
Unto my deth, and that shal wel be sene.

This is to seyne I wol be youres evere,
Though ye me slee by Crueltee your foo,
Algate my spirit shal never dissevere
Fro youre servise for any peyne or woo.
Sith ye be ded-- allas that hyt is soo--
Thus for your deth I may wel wepe and pleyne
With herte sore and ful of besy peyne.

by Geoffrey Chaucer Continue ...

Defence of Fort M'Henry

Tune -- ANACREON IN HEAVEN
O! say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there --
O! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?
On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream --
'Tis the star-spangled banner, O! long may it wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havock of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul foot-steps' pollution,
No refuge could save the hireling and slave,
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave;
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

O! thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their lov'd home, and the war's desolation,
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto -- 'In God is our trust!'
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

by Francis Scott Key Continue ...

Why dost thou Shade thy Lovely Face?

Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? Oh, why
Does that eclipsing hand so long deny
The sunshine of thy soul-enliv'ning eye?

Without that light, what light remains in me?
Thou art my life, my way, my light; in thee
I live, I move, and by thy beams I see.

Thou art mv life; if thou but turn away
My life's a thousand deaths: thou art my way;
Without thee, Lord, I travel not, but stray.

My light thou art; without thy glorious sight
Mine eyes are darken'd with perpetual night.
My God, thou art my way, my life, my light.

Thou art my way; I wander if thou fly:
Thou art my light; if hid, how blind am I!
Thou art my life; if thou withdraw, I die.

Mine eyes are blind and dark, I cannot see;
To whom or whither should my darkness flee,
But to the light? and who's that light but thee?

My path is lost, my wand'ring steps do stray;
I cannot safely go, nor safely stay;
Whom should I seek but thee, my path, my way?

Oh, I am dead: to whom shall I, poor I,
Repair? to whom shall my sad ashes fly,
But life? and where is life but in thine eye?

And yet thou turn'st away thy face, and fly'st me;
And yet I sue for grace, and thou deny'st me;
Speak, art thou angry, Lord, or only try'st me?

Unscreen those heavenly lamps, or tell me why
Thou shad'st thy face; perhaps thou think'st no eye
Can view those flames, and not drop down and die.

If that be all, shine forth, and draw thee nigher;
Let me behold and die, for my desire
Is ph{oe}nix-like to perish in that fire.

Death-conquer'd Laz'rus was redeem'd by thee;
If I am dead, Lord, set death's prisoner free;
Am I more spent, or stink I worse than he?

If my puff'd life be out, give leave to tine
My shameless snuff at that bright lamp of thine;
Oh, what's thy light the less for lighting mine?

If I have lost my path, great Shepherd, say,
Shall I still wander in a doubtful way?
Lord, shall a lamb of Israel's sheep-fold stray?

Thou art the pilgrim's path, the blind man's eye,
The dead man's life; on thee my hopes rely;
If thou remove, I err, I grope, I die.

Disclose thy sunbeams; close thy wings, and stay;
See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray,
O thou, that art my light, my life, my way.

by Francis Quarles Continue ...

An Elegy on the Death of Lady Elizabeth

I may forget to drink, to eat, to sleep,
Remembering thee: but when I do, to weep
In well-weighed lines, that men shall at thy hearse
Envy the sorrow which brought forth my verse;
May my dull understanding have the might
Only to know her last was yesternight!
Rutland, the fair, is dead! and if to hear
The name of Sidney will more force a tear,
'Tis she that is so dead! and yet there be
Some more alive profess not poetry;
The statesmen and the lawyers of our time
Have business still, yet do it not in rhyme.
Can she be dead, and can there be of those
That are so dull to say their prayers in prose?
It is three days since she did feel Death's hand;
And yet this isle not feel the poet's land?
Hath this no new ones made? and are the old
At such a needful time as this grown cold?
They all say they would fain; but yet they plead
They cannot write, because their muse is dead.
Hear me then speak, which will take no excuse;
Sorrow can make a verse without a muse.
Why didst thou die so soon? O, pardon me,
I know it was the longest life to thee,
That e'er with modesty was called a span,
Since the Almighty left to strive with man;
Mankind is sent to sorrow; and thou hast
More of the business which thou cam'st for past,
Than all those aged women, which, yet quick,
Have quite outlived their own arithmetic.
As soon as thou couldst apprehend a grief,
There were enough to meet thee; and the chief
Blessing of women, marriage, was to thee
Nought but a sacrament of misery;
For whom thou hadst, if we may trust to fame,
Could nothing change about thee but thy name:
A name which who (that were again to do't)
Would change without a thousand joys to boot?
In all things else thou rather led'st a life
Like a betrothed virgin than a wife.
But yet I would have called thy fortune kind,
If it had only tried the settled mind
With present crosses: not the loathed thought
Of worse to come, or past, then might have wrough
Thy best remembrance to have cast an eye
Back with delight upon thine infancy.
But thou hadst, ere thou knew'st the use of tears,
Sorrow laid up against thou cam'st to years;
Ere thou wert able who thou wert to tell,
By a sad war thy noble father fell,
In a dull clime, which did not understand
What 'twas to venture him to save a land.
He left two children, who for virtue, wit,
Beauty, were loved of all; thee and his wit:
Two was too few; yet death hath from us took
Thee, a more faultless issue than his book,
Which now the only living thing we have
From him, we'll see, shall never find a grave
As thou hast done. Alas! 'would it might be
That books their sexes had, as well as we,
That we might see this married to the worth,
And many poems like itself bring forth!
But this vain wish divinity controuls;
For neither to the angels, nor to souls,
Nor anything he meant should ever live,
Did the wise God of nature sexes give.
Then with his everlasting work alone
We must content ourselves, since she is gone;
Gone, like the day thou diedst upon; and we
May call that back again as soon as thee.
Who should have looked to this? Where were you all,
That do yourselves the help of nature call,
Physicians? I acknowledce you were there
To sell such words as one in health would hear:
So died she. Curst be he who shall defend
Your art of hastening nature to its end!
In this you shewed that physic can but be
At best an art to cure your poverty.
Ye're many of you impostors, and do give
To sick men potions that yourselves may live.
He that hath surfeited, and cannot eat,
Must have a medicine to procure you meat;
And that's the deepest ground of all your skill,
Unless it be some knowledge how to kill.
Sorrow and madness make my verses flow
Cross to my understanding; for I know
You can do wonders: Every day I meet
The looser sort of people in the street
From desperate diseases freed; and why
Restore you them, and suffer her to die?
Why should the state allow you colleges,
Pensions for lectures, and anatomies,
If all your potions, vomits, letting blood,
Can only cure the bad, and not the good,
Which only they can do? and I will show
The hidden reason, why you did not know
The way to cure her: You believed her blood
Ran on such courses as you understood;
By lectures you believed her arteries
Grew as they do in your anatomies:
Forgetting that the state allows you none
But only whores and thieves to practise on
And every passage 'bout them I am sure
You understood, and only them can cure;
Which is the cause that both —
Are noted for enjoying so long lives.
But noble blood treads in too strange a path
For your ill-got experience, and hath
Another way of cure. If you had seen
Penelope dissected, or the Queen
Of Sheba; then you might have found a way
To have preserved her from that fatal day.
As 'tis, you have but made her sooner blest,
By sending her to Heaven, where let her rest.
I will not hurt the peace which she would have,
By longer looking in her quiet grave.

by Francis Beaumont Continue ...

What Is Love?

What is Love?
Is it a folly,
Is it mirth, or melancholy?
Joys above,
Are there many, or not any?
What is Love?

If you please,
A most sweet folly!
Full of mirth and melancholy:
Both of these!
In its sadness worth all gladness,
If you please!

Prithee where,
Goes Love a-hiding?
Is he long in his abiding
Anywhere?
Can you bind him when you find him;
Prithee, where?

With spring days
Love comes and dallies:
Upon the mountains, through the valleys
Lie Love's ways.
Then he leaves you and deceives you
In spring days.

by Ernest Dowson Continue ...