haiku stringlengths 5 2.3k | source stringlengths 1 74 |
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it sounds to me as from another world
and makes the petty miseries of this
seem unto me as naught and less than naught | img2poems |
it is good o king
being put to death by men to look for hope
from god to be raised up again by him | img2poems |
this silence is more terrible to me
than any sound than any cry of pain
that might escape the lips of one who dies | img2poems |
wherefore art thou the only living thing
among thy brothers dead
art thou afraid | img2poems |
never will i obey the king's commandment
but the commandment of the ancient law
that was by moses given unto our fathers | img2poems |
ye both shall perish
by torments worse than any that your god
here or hereafter hath in store for me | img2poems |
thy footsteps will not wake them nor thy voice
nor wilt thou hear amid thy troubled dreams
thy children crying for thee in the night | img2poems |
none can escape from death
say that ye come
to die for israel and ye are welcome | img2poems |
the princes and the elders weep and wail
the young men and the maidens are made feeble
the beauty of the women hath been changed | img2poems |
both men and women die old men and young
old eleazer died: and mahala
with all her seven sons | img2poems |
to-day he shall be lifted up to-morrow
shall not be found because he is returned
unto his dust his thought has come to nothing | img2poems |
there is no peace between us nor can be
until this banner floats upon the walls
of our jerusalem | img2poems |
the power of god
whose breath shall scatter your white tents abroad
as flakes of snow | img2poems |
your mighty one in heaven
will not do battle on the seventh day
it is his day of rest | img2poems |
last night i dreamed a dream and in my vision
beheld onias our high-priest of old
who holding up his hands prayed for the jews | img2poems |
its hateful aspect
insults us with the bitter memories
of other days | img2poems |
lurking among the ruins of the temple
deep in its inner courts we found this man
clad as high-priest | img2poems |
i am thy prisoner judas maccabaeus
and it would ill become me to conceal
my name or office | img2poems |
what should prevent me now thou man of sin
from hanging at its side the head of one
who born a jew hath made himself a greek | img2poems |
when hast thou
at any time to any man or woman
or even to any little child shown mercy | img2poems |
i who made the jews
skip like the grasshoppers am made myself
to skip among these stones | img2poems |
my lord
i am a messenger from antioch
sent here by lysias | img2poems |
and then emmaus fell and then bethsura
ephron and all the towns of galaad
and maccabaeus marched to carnion | img2poems |
(throws up his hands and sinks into the
arms of attendants who lay him upon
a bank | img2poems |
thy people whom i judged to be unworthy
to be so much as buried shall be equal
unto the citizens of antioch | img2poems |
i will become a jew and will declare
through all the world that is inhabited
the power of god | img2poems |
bring here the royal litter
we will bear him
in to the camp while yet he lives | img2poems |
the old castle
needs not your presence
no one waits for you | img2poems |
yours a child's sorrow smiling through its tears
but mine the grief of an impassioned woman
who drank her life up in one draught of love | img2poems |
dreams or illusions call them what you will
they lift us from the commonplace of life
to better things | img2poems |
are there no brighter dreams
no higher aspirations than the wish
to please and to be pleased | img2poems |
and my cardinal
at itri in the courtyard of his palace
keeps a tame lion | img2poems |
and so counterfeits
st
mark the evangelist | img2poems |
and there vesuvius with its plume of smoke
and the great city stretched upon the shore
as in a dream | img2poems |
michael angelo's studio
he is at work on the cartoon of the
last judgment | img2poems |
that is the title they cajole me with
to make me do their work and leave my own
but having once begun i turn not back | img2poems |
rise from your graves drowsy and drugged with death
as men who suddenly aroused from sleep
look round amazed and know not where they are | img2poems |
so love the greatest emperor of them all
writes his in green at first but afterwards
in the imperial purple of our blood | img2poems |
it is kind of you
to come to us who linger here like gossips
wasting the afternoon in idle talk | img2poems |
pardon me gentlemen
but when i entered
i saw but the marchesa | img2poems |
but that
is not what occupies my thoughts at present
nor why i sent for you messer michele | img2poems |
i am doubtful
how i shall build how large to make the convent
and which way fronting | img2poems |
i see no bar nor drawback to this building
and on our homeward way if it shall please you
we may together view the site | img2poems |
the hours i count not
as a sun-dial but am like a clock
that tells the time as well by night as day | img2poems |
the very memory of all honest living
is wiped away and even our tuscan tongue
corrupted to a lombard dialect | img2poems |
baccio valori and philippo strozzi
once the duke's friends and intimates are with us
and cardinals salvati and ridolfi | img2poems |
we shall soon see then as valori says
whether the duke can best spare honest men
or honest men the duke | img2poems |
heaven help us all i will not tarry longer
for you have need of rest
good-night | img2poems |
fra bastiano how your portly presence
contrasts with that of the spare florentine
who has just left me | img2poems |
sung by the tenor of the papal choir
and in a papal mass seemed out of place
there's something wrong in it | img2poems |
't is a damascus blade you see the inscription
in arabic: la allah illa allah
there is no god but god | img2poems |
how beautiful
in fashion and in finish
it is perfect | img2poems |
i will keep it
in memory of the donor
many thanks | img2poems |
berni and ariosto both shall add
a canto to their poems and describe you
as furioso and innamorato | img2poems |
beware
i remember that bolsena's eels
and vernage wine once killed a pope of rome | img2poems |
't was a french pope and then so long ago
who knows
perhaps the story is not true | img2poems |
the night is far advanced
i fear to stay too late and weary you
with these discussions | img2poems |
dear countess
if loyalty to friendship be a claim
upon your confidence then i may claim it | img2poems |
but the inward life
that you know not 't is known but to myself
and is to me a mystery and a pain | img2poems |
yes your meditations
are more of this world and its vanities
than of the world to come | img2poems |
yet have i seen you listen
enraptured when fra bernardino preached
of faith and hope and charity | img2poems |
for i confess to live among my friends
is paradise to me my purgatory
is living among people i dislike | img2poems |
teach me then
to harmonize the discord of my life
and stop the painful jangle of these wires | img2poems |
that is a task impossible until
you tune your heart-strings to a higher key
than earthly melodies | img2poems |
but lead me privately so that the world
hear not my steps i would not give occasion
for talk among the people | img2poems |
do me the kindness then
to speak without reserve and with all frankness
if you divine the truth will i confess it | img2poems |
this warrants me in saying
you think you can win heaven by compromise
and not by verdict | img2poems |
hark
the convent bells
are ringing it is midnight i must leave you | img2poems |
i make you the same answer
that was not
a pledge of love but of pure gratitude | img2poems |
come to my arms and to my heart once more
my soul goes out to meet you and embrace you
for we are of the sisterhood of sorrow | img2poems |
let me look at you
what a joy it is
to see your face to hear your voice again | img2poems |
you shall hear all
but first sit down and listen patiently
while i confess myself | img2poems |
not a sin a folly
i chid you once at ischia when you told me
that brave fra bastian was to paint your portrait | img2poems |
old as i am i have at last consented
to the entreaties and the supplications
of michael angelo | img2poems |
no this is a friend
of yours as well as mine the lady julia
the duchess of trajetto | img2poems |
't is long since i have seen your face my lady
pardon me if i say that having seen it
one never can forget it | img2poems |
and now i come to add one labor more
if you will call that labor which is pleasure
and only pleasure | img2poems |
my dear maestro
have you then forgotten
the story of sophocles in his old age | img2poems |
't is an illusion
a fabulous story that will lead old men
into a thousand follies and conceits | img2poems |
it was of no great import nothing more
nor less than my late visit to ferrara
and what i saw there in the ducal palace | img2poems |
the men that women marry
and why they marry them will always be
a marvel and a mystery to the world | img2poems |
and then the duchess how shall i describe her
or tell the merits of that happy nature
which pleases most when least it thinks of pleasing | img2poems |
frost kills the flowers that blossom out of season
and these precocious intellects portend
a life of sorrow or an early death | img2poems |
and what poets
were there to sing you madrigals and praise
olympia's eyes and cherubina's tresses | img2poems |
silence and solitude the soul's best friends
are with me here and the tumultuous world
makes no more noise than the remotest planet | img2poems |
how damp and cold it was
how my bones ached
and my head reeled when i was working there | img2poems |
there is a charm
a certain something in the atmosphere
that all men feel and no man can describe | img2poems |
the figure vanished and there rose a cry
out of the darkness long and fierce and loud
with imprecations in all languages | img2poems |
say have you seen our friend fra bastian lately
since by a turn of fortune he became
friar of the signet | img2poems |
faith a pretty artist
to pass his days in stamping leaden seals
on papal bulls | img2poems |
be at it late and early persevere
and work right on through censure and applause
or else abandon art | img2poems |
no man works harder
then i do
i am not a moment idle | img2poems |
the god who made me
knows why he made me what i am a goldsmith
a mere artificer | img2poems |
i know my life is wasted and consumed
in vanities but i have better hours
and higher aspirations than you think | img2poems |
that was nothing
it did not kill me only lamed me slightly
i am quite well again | img2poems |
can you sit down in them
on summer afternoons and play the lute
or sing or sleep the time away | img2poems |
i have not time
did you meet benvenuto
as you came up the stair | img2poems |
i cannot go
the sibylline leaves of life
grow precious now when only few remain | img2poems |
i seem to hear her hearing the boughs and breezes
and leaves and birds lamenting and the waters
murmuring flee along the verdant herbage | img2poems |
i beg you to take note of what he says
about the papal seals for that concerns
your office and yourself | img2poems |
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