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		I loved you, though, I think, it was in vain.
		Perhaps, that love still lives deep in my soul.
		But I wont ever bother you again,
		I wont bring any nuisance at all.

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		Tis to create, and in creating live
		A being more intense, that we endow
		With form our fancy, gaining as we give
		The life we image.

George Gordon Byron
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Steven Schwartz



born in 1948









River Lullaby


		Hush now, my baby; be still love, dont cry.
		Sleep as youre rocked by the stream,
		Sleep and remember, my last lullaby
		So Ill be with you when you dream.

		River, oh river, flow gently for me,
		Such precious cargo you bear.
		Do you know somewhere he can be free?
		River, deliver him there.

		Drift on a river that flows through my arms,
		Drift as Im singing to you.
		I see you smiling so peaceful and calm,
		And holding you Im smiling too.

		Here in my arms safe from all harm
		Holding you Im smiling too.

		Hush now, my baby, be still love, dont cry.
		Sleep like youre rocked by the stream,
		Sleep and remember this river lullaby,
		And Ill be with you when you dream.









 



 6  1948 



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Bob Dylan



born 1941









Blowin In The Wind


		How many roads must a man walk down
		Before you call him a man?
		How many seas must a white dove sail
		Before she sleeps in the sand?
		Yes, how many times must the cannon balls fly
		Before theyre forever banned?
		The answer my friend is blowin in the wind
		The answer is blowin in the wind.

		Yes, how many years can a mountain exist
		Before its washed to the sea?
		Yes, how many years can some people exist
		Before theyre allowed to be free?
		Yes, how many times can a man turn his head
		Pretending he just doesnt see?
		The answer my friend is blowin in the wind
		The answer is blowin in the wind.

		Yes, how many times must a man look up
		Before he can really see the sky?
		Yes, how many ears must one man have
		Before he can hear people cry?
		Yes, how many deaths will it take till he knows
		That too many people have died?
		The answer my friend is blowin in the wind
		The answer is blowin in the wind.









 



  1941 



24 2016   75       , ,     .

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Bob Dylan and Jacques Levy





Black Diamond Bay


		Up on the white veranda
		She wears a necktie and a Panama hat.
		Her passport shows a face
		From another time and place
		She looks nothin like that.
		And all the remnants of her recent past
		Are scattered in the wild wind.
		She walks across the marble floor
		Where a voice from the gambling room is callin her to come on in.
		She smiles, walks the other way
		As the last ship sails and the moon fades away
		From Black Diamond Bay.

		As the morning light breaks open the Greek comes down
		And he asks for a rope and a pen that will write
		Pardon, monsieur the desk clerk says
		Carefully removes his fez
		Am I hearing you right?
		And as the yellow fog is lifting
		The Greek is quickly heading for the second floor
		She passes him on the spiral staircase
		Thinking hes the Soviet Ambassador
		She starts to speak, but he walks away
		As the storm clouds rise and the palm branches sway
		On Black Diamond Bay.

		A soldier sits beneath the fan
		Doing business with a tiny man who sells him a ring
		Lightning strikes, the lights blow out
		The desk clerk wakes and begins to shout
		Can you see anything?
		Then the Greek appears on the second floor
		In his bare feet with a rope around his neck
		While the loser in the gambling room lights up a candle
		Says Open up another deck
		But the dealer say Attendez-vous, sil vous plait
		As the rain beats down and the cranes fly away
		From Black Diamond Bay.

		The desk clerk heard the woman laugh
		As he looked around the aftermath and the soldier got tough
		He tried to grab the womans hand
		Said, Heres a ring it cost a grand
		She said, That aint enough
		Then she ran upstairs to pack her bags
		While a horse-drawn taxi waited at the curb
		She passed the door that the Greek had locked
		Where a handwritten sign read, Do not disturb
		She knocked upon it anyway
		As the sun went down and the music did play
		On Black Diamond Bay.

		Ive got to talk to someone quick!
		But the Greek said, Go away and kicked the chair to the floor
		He hung there from the chandelier
		She cried, Help theres danger near
		Please open up the door
		Then the volcano erupted
		And the lava flowed down from the mountain high above
		The soldier and the tiny man were crouched in the corner
		Thinking of forbidden love
		But the desk clerk said It happens every day

		As the stars fell down and the fields burned away
		On Black Diamond Bay.
		As the island slowly sank
		The loser finally broke the bank in the gambling room
		The dealer said Its too late now
		You can take you money, but I dont know how
		Youll spend it in the tomb
		The tiny man bit the soldiers ear
		As the floor caved in and the boiler in the basement blew
		While shes out on the balcony where a stranger tells her
		My darling je vous aime beaucoup
		She sheds a tear and then begins to pray
		As the fire burns on and the smoke drifts away
		From Black Diamond Bay.

		I was sitting home alone one night in LA
		Watching old Cronkite on the seven oclock news
		It seems there was an earthquake that
		Left nothing but a Panama hat
		And a pair of old Greek shoes
		Didnt seem like much was happening
		So I turned it off and went to grab another beer
		Seems like every time you turn around
		Theres another hard-luck story that youre gonna hear
		And theres really nothing anyone can say
		And I never did plan to go anyway
		To Black Diamond Bay.









    



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W.H. Auden



19071973









As I Walked Out One Evening


		As I walked out one evening,
		Walking down Bristol Street,
		The crowds upon the pavement
		Were fields of harvest wheat.

		And down by the brimming river
		I heard a lover sing
		Under an arch of the railway:
		Love has no ending.

		Ill love you, dear, Ill love you
		Till China and Africa meet,
		And the river jumps over the mountain
		And the salmon sing in the street,

		Ill love you till the ocean
		Is folded and hung up to dry
		And the seven stars go squawking
		Like geese about the sky.

		The years shall run like rabbits,
		For in my arms I hold
		The Flower of the Ages,
		And the first love of the world.

		But all the clocks in the city
		Began to whirr and chime:
		O let not Time deceive you,
		You cannot conquer Time.

		In the burrows of the Nightmare
		Where Justice naked is,
		Time watches from the shadow
		And coughs when you would kiss.

		In the headaches and in worry
		Vaguely life leaks away,
		And Time will have his fancy
		To-morrow or today.

		Into many a green valley
		Drifts the appalling snow;
		Time breaks the threaded dances
		And the divers brilliant bow.

		The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
		The desert sighs in the bed,
		And the crack in the tea-cup opens
		A lane to the land of the dead.

		Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
		And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
		And the Lily-white boy is a Roarer
		And Jill goes down on her back.

		O plunge your hands in water,
		Plunge them in up to the wrist;
		Stare, stare in the basin
		And wonder what youve missed.

		O look, look in the mirror,
		O look in your distress;
		Life remains a blessing
		Although you cannot bless.

		O stand, stand at the window
		As the tears scald and start;
		You shall love your crooked neighbor
		With your crooked heart.

		It was late, late in the evening,
		The lovers they were gone;
		The clocks had ceased their chiming
		And the deep river ran on.









  



19071973



- ,      XX- .     .     ,  1939    .

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Edgar Yip Harburg



18961981









Irreverent Heart


		My heart is like the willow
		That bends, but never breaks.
		It sighs when summer jilts her,
		It sings when April wakes.
		So you, who come a-smiling
		With summer in your eyes,
		Think not that your beguiling
		Will take me by surprise.
		My hearts prepared for aching
		The moment you take wing.
		But not, my friend, for breaking
		While theres another spring.
		So share my summer pillow,
		Dont spare my autumn aches;
		My heart is like the willow
		That bends, but never breaks.









  



18961981



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Atheist


		Poems are made by fools like me,
		But only God can make a tree;

		And only God who makes the tree
		Also makes the fools like me.

		But only fools like me, you see,
		Can make a God, who makes a tree.







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Courtship in Greenwich Village


		Our days will be oh, so ecstatic,
		Our nights will be oh, so exotic,
		For Im a neurotic erratic,
		And youre an erratic erotic.




   


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Adverbs


		WHERE and WHEN
		Are lost in space.
		THERE and THEN
		Do not embrace.
		So before we disappear
		Come sweet NOW and kiss the HERE.







		  
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Over the Rainbow


		Somewhere over the rainbow
		Way up high,
		Theres a land that I heard of
		Once in a lullaby.

		Somewhere over the rainbow
		Skies are blue,
		And the dreams that you dare to dream
		Really do come true.

		Someday Ill wish upon a star
		And wake up where the clouds are far
		Behind me.
		Where troubles melt like lemon drops
		Away above the chimney tops
		Thats where youll find me.

		Somewhere over the rainbow
		Bluebirds fly.
		Birds fly over the rainbow.
		Why then, oh why cant I?

		If happy little bluebirds fly
		Beyond the rainbow
		Why, oh why cant I?








   (Over the Rainbow)      ,     (  )   1939     ,      (RIAA)    .




 


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Robert Frost


18741963









Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening


		Whose woods these are I think I know.
		His house is in the village though;
		He will not see me stopping here
		To watch his woods fill up with snow.

		My little horse must think it queer
		To stop without a farmhouse near
		Between the woods and frozen lake
		The darkest evening of the year.

		He gives his harness bells a shake
		To ask if there is some mistake.
		The only other sounds the sweep
		Of easy wind and downy flake.

		The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
		But I have promises to keep,
		And miles to go before I sleep,
		And miles to go before I sleep.




 



18741963

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Fire and Ice


		Some say the world will end in fire,
		Some say in ice.
		From what Ive tasted of desire
		I hold with those who favor fire.
		But if it had to perish twice,
		I think I know enough of hate
		To say that for destruction ice
		Is also great
		And would suffice.




  


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The Aim was Song


		Before man to blow to right
		The wind once blew itself untaught,
		And did its loudest day and night
		In any rough place where it caught.

		Man came to tell it what was wrong:
		It hadnt found the place to blow;
		It blew too hard  the aim was song.
		And listen  how it ought to go!

		He took a little in his mouth,
		And held it long enough for north
		To be converted into south,
		And then by measure blew it forth.

		By measure. It was word and note,
		The wind the wind had meant to be 
		A little through the lips and throat.
		The aim was song  the wind could see.




  


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Lovers, forget your love


		Lovers, forget your love,
		And list to the love of these,
		She a window flower,
		And he a winter breeze.

		When the frosty window veil
		Was melted down at noon,
		And the caged yellow bird
		Hung over her in tune,

		He marked her through the pane,
		He could not help but mark,
		And only passed her by,
		To come again at dark.

		He was a winter wind,
		Concerned with ice and snow,
		Dead weeds and unmated birds,
		And little of love could know.

		But he sighed upon the sill,
		He gave the sash a shake,
		As witness all within
		Who lay that night awake.

		Perchance he half prevailed
		To win her for the flight
		From the fire lit looking-glass
		And warm stove-window light.

		But the flower leaned aside
		And thought of naught to say,
		And morning found the breeze
		A hundred miles away.




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Sarah Teasdale



18841933









Fantasy


		Her voice is like clear water
		That drips upon a stone
		In forests far and silent
		Where Quiet plays alone.

		Her thoughts are like the lotus
		Abloom by sacred streams
		Beneath the temple arches
		Where Quiet sits and dreams.

		Her kisses are the roses
		That glow while dusk is deep
		In Persian garden closes
		Where Quiet falls asleep.









 



18841933



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     1907 .

 1914       .  1916     -.  -         4 .

 1918       c   .       :      ,     20    .       .  ,       .    ,    .       ,      .     .     .  .          Strange Victory,       .







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I am not yours, not lost in you


		I am not yours, not lost in you,
		Not lost, although I long to be
		Lost as a candle lit at noon,
		Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

		You love me, and I find you still
		A spirit beautiful and bright,
		Yet I am I, who long to be
		Lost as a light is lost in light.

		Oh plunge me deep in love-put out
		My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
		Swept by the tempest of your love,
		A taper in a rushing wind.




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Oh Day of Fire and Sun


		Oh day of fire and sun,
		Pure as a naked flame,
		Blue sea, blue sky and dun
		Sands where he spoke my name;
		Laughter and hearts so high
		That the spirit flew off free,
		Lifting into the sky
		Diving into the sea;
		Oh day of fire and sun
		Like a crystal burning,
		Slow days go one by one,
		But you have no returning.




  


		  
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The Tree of Song


		I sang my songs for the rest,
		For you I am still;
		The tree of my song is bare
		On its shining hill.

		For you came like a lordly wind,
		And the leaves were whirled
		Far as forgotten things
		Past the rim of the world.

		The tree of my song stands bare
		Against the blue
		I gave my songs to the rest,
		Myself to you.




 


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I Shall Not Care


		When I am dead and over me bright April
		Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
		Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
		I shall not care.

		I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
		When rain bends down the bough,
		And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
		Than you are now.




   


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There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground


		There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
		And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
		And frogs in the pool singing at night,
		And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
		Robins will wear their feathery fire,
		Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
		And not one will know of the war, not one
		Will care at last when it is done.
		Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
		If mankind perished utterly;
		And Spring herself when she woke at dawn
		Would scarcely know that we were gone.




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Eleanor Farjeon



18811965









Pegasus


		From the blood of Medusa
		Pegasus sprang.
		His hoof of heaven
		Like melody rang.

		He could not be captured,
		He could not be bought,
		His running was rhythm,
		His standing was thought;

		With one eye on sorrow
		And one eye on mirth,
		He galloped in heaven
		And gambolled on earth.

		And only the poet
		With wings to his brain
		Can mount him and ride him
		Without any rein,

		The stallion of heaven,
		The steed of the skies,
		The horse of the singer
		Who sings as he flies.









 



18811965



  ,      ,   1916.      .   ,      XX     .     .   .           .        ,   ,  ,   .   ,    -,      ,          :     . ,           . ,  ,  ,   ,       127       .            II   ,  :        .     ,          ,        .







		  
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The Night Will Never Stay


		The night will never stay,
		The night will still go by

		Though with a million stars
		You pin it to the sky

		Though you bind it
		with the blowing wind
		And buckle it with the moon,
		The night will slip away
		Like sorrow or a tune.




   

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There Isnt Time


		There isnt time, there isnt time
		To do the things I want to do,
		With all the mountain-tops to climb,
		And all the woods to wander through,
		And all the seas to sail upon,
		And everywhere there is to go,
		And all the people, every one
		Who lives upon the earth, to know.
		To know a few, and do a few,
		And then sit down and make a rhyme
		About the rest I want to do.




 


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William Butler Yeats



18651939









The Host of the Air


		ODriscoll drove with a song
		The wild duck and the drake
		From the tall and the tufted reeds
		Of the drear Hart Lake.

		And he saw how the reeds grew dark
		At the coming of night-tide,
		And dreamed of the long dim hair
		Of Bridget his bride.

		He heard while he sang and dreamed
		A piper piping away,
		And never was piping so sad,
		And never was piping so gay.

		The dancers crowded about him
		And many a sweet thing said,
		And a young man brought him red wine
		And a young girl white bread.

		But Bridget drew him by the sleeve
		Away from the merry bands,
		To old men playing at cards
		With a twinkling of ancient hands.

		The bread and the wine had a doom,
		For these were the host of the air;
		He sat and played in a dream
		Of her long dim hair.

		He played with the merry old men
		And thought not of evil chance,
		Until one bore Bridget his bride
		Away from the merry dance.

		He bore her away in his arms,
		The handsomest young man there,
		And his neck and his breast and his arms
		Were drowned in her long dim hair.

		ODriscoll scattered the cards
		And out of his dream awoke:
		Old men and young men and young girls
		Were gone like a drifting smoke;

		But he heard high up in the air
		A piper piping away,
		And never was piping so sad,
		And never was piping so gay.









  



18651939



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Rudyard Kipling



18651936









The Gipsy Trail


		The white moth to the closing bine,
		The bee to the opened clover,
		And the gipsy blood to the gipsy blood
		Ever the wide world over.
		Ever the wide world over, lass,
		Ever the trail held true,
		Over the world and under the world,
		And back at the last to you.
		Out of the dark of the gorgio camp,
		Out of the grime and the gray
		(Morning waits at the end of the world),
		Gipsy, come away!
		The wild boar to the sun-dried swamp,
		The red crane to her reed,
		And the Romany lass to the Romany lad
		By the tie of a roving breed.
		The pied snake to the rifted rock,
		The buck to the stony plain,
		And the Romany lass to the Romany lad,
		And both to the road again.
		Both to the road again, again!
		Out on a clean sea-track 
		Follow the cross of the gipsy trail
		Over the world and back!
		Follow the Romany patteran
		North where the blue bergs sail,
		And the bows are gray with the frozen spray,
		And the masts are shod with mail.
		Follow the Romany patteran
		Sheer to the Austral Light,
		Where the besom of God is the wild South wind,
		Sweeping the sea-floors white.
		Follow the Romany patteran
		West to the sinking sun,
		Till the junk-sails lift through the horseless drift,
		And the east and the west are one.
		Follow the Romany patteran
		East where the silence broods
		By a purple wave on an opal beach
		In the hush of the Mahim woods.
		The wild hawk to the wind-swept sky,
		The deer to the wholesome world
		And the heart of a man to the heart of a maid,
		As it was in the days of old.
		The heart of a man to the heart of a maid
		Light of my tents, be fleet.
		Morning waits at the end of the world,
		And the world is all at our feet!









 



18651936



           --.    ,        ,   ,            .    ,  ,     ,    .  ,      ,      .    5           .   6      ,   ( )    , .       ,        .




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