"Hollow voices speak to hollow bodies." – 27 rezultate
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T.S. Eliot
Thomas Stearns Eliot, OM (26 September 1888–4 January 1965), was a poet, playwright and literary critic. He received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1948. Among his most famous writings are the poems The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, The Waste Land, The Hollow Men, Ash Wednesday and Four Quartets; the plays Murder in the Cathedral and The Cocktail Party; and the essay "Tradition and the Individual Talent". Eliot was born in the United States, moved to the United Kingdom in 1914 (at age 25), and became a British subject in 1927 at the age of 39. Of his nationality and its role in his work, Eliot said: "[My poetry] wouldn't be what it is if I'd been born in England, and it wouldn't be what it is if I'd stayed in America. It's a combination of things. But in its sources, in its emotional springs, it comes from America."
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Lassi Nummi
Lassi Nummi (born 1928) considers himself a prose-writer who has strayed into poetry. In a career spanning almost half a century and 25 collections of poetry, his preoccupations, and his central metaphors, have remained constant: landscape, trees, bushes, blades of grass. Interview by Tarja Roinila; poems translated by Herbert Lomas and Anselm Hollo 'During my "social period" I was on the board of the Writers' Union, and its chairman from 1969 to 1972; after that I worked for the Uusi Suomi newspaper and for the PEN Club, whose chairman I was from 1983 to 1988. I was a member of the Bible translation committee for the entire period of its existence, 17 years. A completely different choice would have been to become either a Buddhist or a Christian monk, or then to be a really convinced down-and-out- that might have been the most elegant solution. One could have regulated one's liquid intake, but the freedom of movement would have been pleasant. At the moment I am working out how much...
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Ash Wednesday
de T.S. Eliot
I Because I do not hope to turn again Because I do not hope Because I do not hope to turn Desiring this man\'s gift and that man\'s scope I no longer strive to strive towards such things (Why should...
The Hollow Men
de T.S. Eliot
I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats\'...
PARADISE LOST -- Book III
de John Milton
Book III Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn, Or of the Eternal coeternal beam May I express thee unblam\'d? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity,...
hollowman
de teo chitus
hollowman i ain\'t gonna die with a single red rose stuck between a hollowman\'s chest cause this ain\'t love and i feel loved as much as a hollow man fells loved this depends on a single red rose...
Intre doua valuri (HAIKU)
de HF Noyes
*** delta dawn - a smoky sky colors the seaweed smell zori in delta - cerul fumuriu coloreaza mirosul de alge *** quiet oars up the unwary river in the twilight vasle tacute in sus pe raul increzator...
How I Will Miss You
de Nicolaescu Dan Gabriel
How I Will Miss You How I will miss you When I am dead ? Miss you in ecerlasting death , Miss the stout unruly curvature Of your mounts , The fortitude O your roks , The magnitude Of your men , Your...
The Grey Monk
de William Blake
`I die, I die!\' the Mother said, `My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless tyrant said?\' The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk\'s side, His...
Athanasia
de Oscar Wilde
To that gaunt House of Art which lacks for naught Of all the great things men have saved from Time, The withered body of a girl was brought Dead ere the world\'s glad youth had touched its prime, And...
Magdalen Walks
de Oscar Wilde
The little white clouds are racing over the sky, And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower of March, The daffodil breaks under foot, and the tasselled larch Sways and swings as the thrush...
The Thought Fox
de Ted Hughes
I imagine this midnight moment\'s forest: Something else is alive Besides the clock\'s loneliness And this blank page where my fingers move. Through the window I see no star: Something more near...
The Afternoon of a Faun
de Stéphane Mallarmé
These nymphs I would perpetuate. So clear Their light carnation, that it floats in the air Heavy with tufted slumbers. Was it a dream I loved? My doubt, a heap of ancient night, is finishing In many...
Paramnezii
de cristina serban
Cainele are pureci.Mama vede dublu.Eu aud triplu. Fiecare sunet zgomotos il percep ca fiind ultimul.Incerc sa citesc,dar rotitele creierului functioneaza la o prea inalta tensiune de nici nu mai stiu...
Dracula
de Bram Stoker
Chapter 7 - Cutting from \"the Dailygraph\". (Pasted in Mina Murray\'s Journal.) From a Correspondent. 8 August. Whitby One of the greatest and suddenest storms on record has just been experienced...
PARADISE LOST -- Book II
de John Milton
Book II High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted...
zarathustra
de Friedrich Nietzsche
1891 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA by Friedrich Nietzsche translated by Thomas Common PROLOGUE Zarathustra\'s Prologue 1. WHEN Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home,...
Empty shells
de Andrei Dumitrescu
I can\'t see anything else but dead people anymore, Empty shells, hollows within the depths hiding in the deepest parts of the soul, Shadows in twilights grabind the cold hands of time Stars falling...
Soul-Written Miniatures in Words…
de Andrei Lucian Dragoi
Sands… Her breasts put together are the most wonderful castels ever built in the primordial sands… Unfortunately they have no windows… I could have seen The First Man-Rise!… Pictures The spirits of...
