By Federico García Lorca
1.
La cogida y la muerte
A las cinco de la tarde.
Eran las cinco en punto de la tarde.
Un niño trajo…
La cogida y la muerte
A las cinco de la tarde.
Eran las cinco en punto de la tarde.
Un niño trajo…
Explore Poems: Ballad
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- By Countee CullenThen call me traitor if you must,
Shout treason and default!
Say I betray a sacred trust
Aching beyond… - By Countee CullenSome are teethed on a silver spoon,
With the stars strung for a rattle;
I cut my teeth as the black … - By Countee CullenOnce riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking… - By Countee CullenWith two white roses on her breasts,
White candles at head and feet,
Dark Madonna of the grave she … - By Langston HughesIf I had some small change
I’d buy me a mule,
Get on that mule and
Ride like a fool.
If I had some … - By Langston HughesDown in the bass
That steady beat
Walking walking walking
Like marching feet.
Down in the bass
That… - By William WordsworthAnd is this—Yarrow?—This the stream
Of which my fancy cherished,
So faithfully, a waking dream?
An image… - By William WordsworthThe gallant Youth, who may have gained,
Or seeks, a "winsome Marrow,"
Was but an Infant in the lap … - By Federico García LorcaMoon came to the forge
in her petticoat of nard
The boy looks and looks
the boy looks at the Moon
In… - By Ernest Lawrence ThayerThe outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two with but one… - By Robert W. ServiceThere are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have… - By Lord Byron (George Gordon)So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon… - By George Gascoigne“And if I did, what then?
Are you aggriev’d therefore?
The sea hath fish for every man,
And what would… - By Alfred NoyesPART ONE
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon … - By Paul Laurence DunbarPray why are you so bare, so bare,
Oh, bough of the old oak-tree;
And why, when I go through the shade… - By AnonymousI know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody’s … - By Robert W. ServiceA bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was… - By Robert GravesIt wasn't our battalion, but we lay alongside it, So the story is as true as the telling is frank. They…
- By Ivor GurneyLittle did I dream, England, that you bore me
Under the Cotswold hills beside the water meadows,
To …