Poeme despre toamna Poetul roman ales este George Bacovia.
AUTUMN – FANTASY AND COLORAutumn poems
Autumn by William MorrisLaden Autumn here I standWorn of heart, and weak of hand:Nought but rest seems good to me,Speak the word that sets me free.
Autumn Day by Rainer Maria RilkeLord: it is time. The summer was immense.Lay your shadow on the sundialsand let loose the wind in the fields.Bid the last fruits to be full;give them another two more southerly days,press them to ripeness, and chasethe last sweetness into the heavy wine. Whoever has no house now will not build one anymore.Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long time,will stay up, read, write long letters,and wander the avenues, up and down,restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.
Autumn Birds by John Clare The wild duck startles like a sudden thought,And heron slow as if it might be caught.The flopping crows on weary wings go byAnd grey beard jackdaws noising as they fly.The crowds of starnels whizz and hurry by,And darken like a clod the evening sky.The larks like thunder rise and suthy round,Then drop and nestle in the stubble ground.The wild swan hurries hight and noises loudWith white neck peering to the evening clowd.The weary rooks to distant woods are gone.With lengths of tail the magpie winnows onTo neighbouring tree, and leaves the distant crowWhile small birds nestle in the edge below.
Autumn by Siegfried SassoonOctober's bellowing anger breaks and cleaves The bronzed battalions of the stricken wood In whose lament I hear a voice that grieves For battle’s fruitless harvest, and the feud Of outraged men. Their lives are like the leavesScattered in flocks of ruin, tossed and blown Along the westering furnace flaring red. O martyred youth and manhood overthrown, The burden of your wrongs is on my head.
Autumnby George Bacovia A gunshot's powerful reportCracks from the fringes of the town;The metal sound of trumpetersDown at the barracks ... it is autumn
A school bell also can be heard,In the morning it's deserted, windy;Papers and leaves wheel round the squareIn dizzy spins, haphazardly With a stern, overbearing spire,The cathedral looks to the horizon;The town gardens are in tearsAnd shed their leaves throughout the town And, as in times of old, a hornComes from the fringes in alarm,The metal sound of trumpetersDown at the barracks ... it is autumn
A Song of an Autumn Night by Wang Wei Under the crescent moon a light autumn dew Has chilled the robe she will not change -- And she touches a silver lute all night, Afraid to go back to her empty room.
As Summer into Autumn slips by Emily DickinsonAs Summer into Autumn slipsAnd yet we sooner say"The Summer" than "the Autumn," lestWe turn the sun away,And almost count it an AffrontThe presence to concedeOf one however lovely, notThe one that we have loved --So we evade the charge of YearsOn one attempting shyThe Circumvention of the ShaftOf Life's Declivity.
Autumn Autumn, you are the season about loss. There is sadness as the leaves drop from your trees. And I crunch them under my feet. The sound, reminding me of the breaking of hearts when relationships end. Bareness of trees, reminding me I'm getting older as another year comes to an end. And winter approaches with her loneliness.
The name -- of it -- is "Autumn" – by Emily Dickinson The name -- of it -- is "Autumn" --The hue -- of it -- is Blood --An Artery -- upon the Hill --A Vein -- along the Road --Great Globules -- in the Alleys --And Oh, the Shower of Stain --When Winds -- upset the Basin --And spill the Scarlet Rain --It sprinkles Bonnets -- far below --It gathers ruddy Pools --Then -- eddies like a Rose -- away --Upon Vermilion Wheels --