after - Popular Poems and stories from category

VE is dying
Why then, let it die
Trample it down, that it die more fast
What is a rose that has lost its bloom

The air is full of after-thunder freshness,
And everything rejoices and revives
With the whole outburst of its purple
The lilac drinks the air of paradise

About three months ago, when
Upon our open,
And freezing garden snowstorms
In sudden fury,

The last pose flickered, failed
The screen's dead white Glared in a sudden flooding of harsh light Stabbing the eyes; and as I stumbled out The curtain rose
A fat girl with a pout And legs like hams, began to sing "His Mother"<...

As soon as the idea of the Deluge had subsided,
A hare stopped in the clover and swaying flowerbells, and said a prayer to the rainbow, through the spider's web
Oh
the precious stones that began to hide,-- and the flowers that alrea...

Awake
Where are you
At home
Still unaccustomed- awake or sleeping- to being in your own home

HE left the festival, for it seem'd
Now that her eye no longer dwelt on him,
And sought her chamber,--gazed, (then turn'd away),
Upon a mirror that before her lay,

If, after I die, they should want to write my biography,
There's nothing simpler
I've just two dates - of my birth, and of my death
In between the one thing and the other all the days aremine

The after-even
Ah, did I walk,  Indeed, in her or even
For nothing of me or around  But absent She did leaven,
Felt in my body as its soul,  And in my soul its heaven

I To the cities I came in a time of disorder That was ruled by hunger
I sheltered with the people in a time of uproar And then I joined in their rebellion
That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth
I ate my dinne...

The storm hath passed; I hear the birds rejoice; the hen, Returned into the road again, Her cheerful notes repeats
The sky serene Is, in the west, upon the mountain seen: The country smiles; bright runs the silver stream
Each heart is ch...

Prelude Blue storm-clouds in hot heavens of mid-July Hung heavy, brooding over land and sea:
Our hearts, a-tremble, throbbed in harmony With the wild, restless tone of air and sky
Shall we not call im Prospero who held In his enchanted h...