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"The Birds Have Vanished"11442 rezultate

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40 rezultate
elenadanielaE

elenadaniela

AutorAtelier

Among the hundreds masts https://www.poezie.ro/index.php/poetry/14111260/index.html?newlang=eng Sleepy, sleepy birds https://www.poezie.ro/index.php/poetry/14173739/index.html?newlang=eng The Grass http://www.poezie.ro/index.php/poetry/13977391/index.html?newlang=eng Soon We ll Die http://www.poezie.ro/index.php/poetry/13970849/index.html?newlang=eng Just Think, Wouldn t Be Pity http://agonia.ro/index.php/poetry/13977070/index.html?newlang=eng Kiss Me https://www.poezie.ro/index.php/poetry/14146075/index.html?newlang=eng The Soul Bows Down To Destiny http://www.poezie.ro/index.php/poetry/13970855/index.html?newlang=eng Asking You http://agonia.ro/index.php/poetry/13977366/index.html?newlang=eng I Don t Regret http://www.poezie.ro/index.php/poetry/13970863/index.html?newlang=eng Leaning My Head http://agonia.ro/index.php/poetry/13977473/index.html?newlang=eng Violet Twilight https://www.poezie.ro/index.php/poetry/14171185/index.html?newlang=eng Pastel...

15 poezii, 0 proze

Maya AngelouMA

Maya Angelou

AutorClasic

Maya Angelou born Marguerite Ann Johnson on April 4, 1928)is an American autobiographer and poet. Having been called "America's most visible black female autobiographer" by scholar Joanne M. Braxton, she is best known for her series of six autobiographies, which focus on her childhood and early adulthood experiences. The first, best-known, and most highly acclaimed, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969), focuses on the first seventeen years of her life, brought her international recognition, and was nominated for a National Book Award. Angelou has had a long and varied career, holding jobs such as fry cook, dancer, actress, journalist, educator, television producer, and film director. She was a member of the Harlem Writers Guild in the late 1950s. She was active in the Civil Rights movement, and served as Northern Coordinator of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Southern Christian Leadership Conference. Angelou has been highly honored for her body of work, including being awarded over 30...

8 poezii, 0 proze

Fred CogswellFC

Fred Cogswell

AutorClasic

Născut în 1917, în East Contreville, provincia Brunswick, Canada. Poet și critic literar. Studii la Universitatea din New Brunswick (Canada) și Edinburg (Anglia). Profesor de literatură engeză la Universitatea New Brunswick. Redactor șef al revistei literare "The Fiddlehead", una dintre cele mai apreciate ale continentului american. Opere: "The Haloed Tree" (1956); "Lost Dimension" (1960); "Star People" (1968); "Light Bird of Life - Selected Poems (1974). *** Fred Cogswell, CM (November 8, 1917- June 20, 2004) was a Canadian poet. Born in East Centreville, New Brunswick he served overseas in the Canadian Army during the Second World War. A teacher at the age of sixteen, Cogswell gained a BA(Hons) and MA at the University of New Brunswick and received a PhD from Edinburgh University. He later became a professor of English at the University of New Brunswick, a position he held from 1952 to 1983. In 1958, Cogswell and a group of students and faculty from the University of New Brunswick...

1 poezii, 0 proze

TC

the crow

AutorAtelier

un spectru bantuie Europa

4 poezii, 0 proze

The Rave parties going JesterTJ

The Rave parties going Jester

AutorAtelier

nu stiu cum naiba sa scap de contul asta infect

2 poezii, 0 proze

TS

The Shadow

AutorAtelier

29 poezii, 0 proze

Ben BerBB

Ben Ber

AutorAtelier

16 poezii, 0 proze

AD

Alex Dan

AutorAtelier

21 de ani,imi place singuratatea,observ si judec, imi place sa ma joc cu realitatea,scriu poezie si proza. Sper sa va placa...

13 poezii, 0 proze

MM

Matei Alexandru Marian

AutorAtelier

3 poezii, 0 proze

AE

Anca Emancipatu

AutorAtelier

3 poezii, 0 proze

PARADISE LOST -- Book VI

de John Milton

Book VI All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, Through Heaven\'s wide champain held his way; till Morn, Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand Unbarred the gates of light. There is a cave...

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The Need of Being Versed in Country Things

de Robert Frost

The house had gone to bring again To the midnight sky a sunset glow. Now the chimney was all of the house that stood, Like a pistil after the petals go The barn opposed across the way, That would...

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Birds

de Saint-John Perse

A man at sea, feeling noon in the air, lifts his head at this wonder: a white gull opened on the sky, like a woman\'s hand before the flame of a lamp, elevating in daylight the pink translucence of a...

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ANTHEM

de Leonard Cohen

The birds they sang at the break of day Start again I heard them say Don’t dwell on what has passed away Or what is yet to be. The wars they will be fought again The holy dove be caught again Bought...

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Numarand timpul pe broaste

de Andrei Dumitrescu

Counting the frogs, the skins and the birds, And the stars and the wings And the arms and the dreams, Counting the crows the fingers,the toes, Whispers and shouts the loves and the doubts, Counting...

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Miracles

de Coana Loenida

It really is a matter of perspective. The morning air is still dim and cool the birds I can hear almost seem to be whispering about something that has yet to happen, and if it does they will sing and...

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My November Guest

de Robert Frost

My Sorrow, when she\'s here with me, Thinks these dark days of autumn rain Are beautiful as days can be; She loves the bare, the withered tree; She walks the sodden pasture lane. Her pleasure will...

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The Little Mermaid

de Radu Herinean

The Little Mermaid - - - - by Hans Christian Andersen Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, cornflower, and as clear as the purest glass. But it is very deep...

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The Tuft of Flowers

de Robert Frost

I went to turn the grass once after one Who mowed it in the dew before the sun. The dew was gone that made his blade so keen Before I came to view the levelled scene. I looked for him behind an isle...

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Mad Song

de William Blake

The wild winds weep And the night is a-cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning peeps Over the eastern steeps, And the rustling birds of dawn The earth do scorn. Lo! to the...

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