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Конкурс 2013 (9-10 кл)
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:49 | Сообщение # 1 |
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“You have been used by someone else…”
You have been used by someone else
But there is something good at bottom:
Your glassy hair casting spells,
Your weary eyes tired out in autumn.
The autumn age! Well, for my part,
I like that more than youth, I know it,
You’re how much better to the heart
And fascination of the poet.
I never tell a lie at heart.
And to the call of ostentation
I’ll say without hesitation:
Farewell to squabble, booze and that.
It’s time to stop this rugged trick.
I’ve been so stubborn. That’s the limit!
My heart has had a kind of drink
That sobers up the blood and spirit.
September knocks upon my pane
With willow branches showing crimson,
I have to be prepared again
For the arrival of the season.
I now put up with many things,
Without loss, or stress or bounds.
My Russian land has changed, it seems,
So are the houses and burial grounds.
Look around, seeing through,
And here and there everywhere
The only one for whom I care,
Are you, my friend, and sister, too.
You are the only one whom I,
Perfecting drawbacks of a sinner,
Will sing about roads, - oh my!-
The parting life of misdemeanour.
by Sergey Yesenin
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:49 | Сообщение # 2 |
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If Every Time
I'll never forget the way you looked
When I saw you there that night;
The way that you just seemed to glow
In the warm and gentle light.
If every time you crossed my mind
A drop of rain should fall,
We could swim on forever
In the greatest ocean of them all.
If every time I was proud of you
A flower bloomed anew,
I could walk on eternally
In a garden next to you.
If every time I craved your lips
A star was placed in sight,
Darkness would never fall upon
Our love of endless light.
If every time you touched my heart
A bell would somewhere chime,
We could listen ‘till the end of days
To the music that’s yours and mine.
My love and heart are yours…
Every time.
by Jamie Tyler
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:49 | Сообщение # 3 |
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Winter: A Dirge
BY ROBERT BURNS
The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
Or, the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.
The sweeping blast, the sky o’ercast,
The joyless winter-day,
Let others fear, to me more dear
Than all the pride of May:
The tempest’s howl, it soothes my soul,
My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
Their fate resembles mine!
Thou Pow’r Supreme, whose mighty scheme
These woes of mine fulfil,
Here, firm, I rest, they must be best,
Because they are Thy will!
Then all I want (O, do Thou grant
This one request of mine!)
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,
Assist me to resign.
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:49 | Сообщение # 4 |
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A Domestic Tragedy
Robert William Service :
Clorinda met me on the way
As I came from the train;
Her face was anything but gay,
In fact, suggested pain.
"Oh hubby, hubby dear!" she cried,
"I've awful news to tell. . . ."
"What is it, darling?" I replied;
"Your mother -- is she well?"
"Oh no! oh no! it is not that,
It's something else," she wailed,
My heart was beating pit-a-pat,
My ruddy visage paled.
Like lightning flash in heaven's dome
The fear within me woke:
"Don't say," I cried, "our little home
Has all gone up in smoke!"
She shook her head. Oh, swift I clasped
And held her to my breast;
"The children! Tell me quick," I gasped,
"Believe me, it is best."
Then, then she spoke; 'mid sobs I caught
These words of woe divine:
"It's coo-coo-cook has gone and bought
A new hat just like mine."
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:50 | Сообщение # 5 |
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Life
(By Charlotte Bronte)
LIFE, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall?
Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly!
What though Death at times steps in
And calls our Best away?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope, a heavy sway?
Yet hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair!
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:50 | Сообщение # 6 |
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JABBERWOCKY
Lewis Carroll
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:51 | Сообщение # 7 |
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Jamie Tyler
If Every Time
I'll never forget the way you looked
When I saw you there that night ;
The way that you just seemed to glow
In the warm and gentle light .
If every time you crossed my mind
A drop of rain should fall ,
We could swim on forever
In the greatest ocean of them all.
If every time I was proud of you
A flower bloomed anew,
I could walk on eternally
In a garden next to you .
If every time I craved your lips
A star was placed in sight,
Darkness would never fall upon
Our love of endless light .
If every time you touched my heart
A bell would somewhere chime,
We could listen ‘till the end of days
To the music that’s yours and mine.
My love and heart are yours…
Every time .
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:51 | Сообщение # 8 |
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Still I rise by Maya Angelou
you may write me down in history
with your bitter, twisted lies,
you may trod me in the very dirt,
but still, like dust, I'll rise
does my sassiness upset you?
why are you beset with gloom?
'cause I walk like I've got oil wells
pumping in my living room
just like moons and like suns
with the certainity of tides
just like hopes, springing high,
still, I'll rise
did you want to see me broken?
bowed head and lowered eyes,
shoulders, falling down like teardrops
weakened by my soulful cries
does my hautiness offend you?
don't you take it awful hard,
'cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
diggin' in my own back yard
you may shoot me with your words,
you may cut me with your eyes,
you may kill me with your hatefulness,
but still, like air, I will rise.
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:51 | Сообщение # 9 |
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If Every Time ~ by Jamie Tyler
I'll never forget the way you looked
When I saw you there that night;
The way that you just seemed to glow
In the warm and gentle light.
If every time you crossed my mind
A drop of rain should fall,
We could swim on forever
In the greatest ocean of them all.
If every time I was proud of you
A flower bloomed anew,
I could walk on eternally
In a garden next to you.
If every time I craved your lips
A star was placed in sight,
Darkness would never fall upon
Our love of endless light.
If every time you touched my heart
A bell would somewhere chime,
We could listen ‘till the end of days
To the music that’s yours and mine.
My love and heart are yours…
Every time.
~ by Jamie Tyler
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:51 | Сообщение # 10 |
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Getting Back
Coming back to school again -
All our crowd together -
What a lot of ways we've been
In many kinds of weather!
After all our journeyings ,
We see familiar faces.
And show each other all the things
We've brought from different places.
Jack has thrilling tales he tells
Of trails and mountain-reaches;
Constance has a box of shells
And agates from the beaches;
Mary saw the Capitol
From cornerstone to dome;
And Jim has camera shots of all
His summer hikes at home.
Talking,laughing,looking out
To greet the latest comer -
We may finish, but we doubt
Our getting through, till summer!
We must hear it all-we must
See each stone and feather -
And best of all is just
Getting back together!
Dorothy Brown Thompson
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:51 | Сообщение # 11 |
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Twilight Night
by Christina Rossetti
We met, hand to hand,
We clasped hands close and fast,
As close as oak and ivy stand;
But it is past:
Come day, come night, day comes at last.
We loosed hand from hand,
We parted face from face;
Each went his way to his own land.
At his own pace,
Each went to fill his separate place.
If we should meet one day,
If both should not forget,
We shall clasp hands the accustomed way,
As when we met
So long ago, as I remember yet.
Where my heart is (wherever that may be)
Might I but follow!
If you fly thither over heath and lea,
O honey-seeking bee,
O careless swallow,
Bid some for whom I watch keep watch for me.
Not yesterday, and not, I think, to-day;
Perhaps to-morrow.
Day after day 'to-morrow' thus I say:
I watched so yesterday
In hope and sorrow,
Again to-day I watch the accustomed way.
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| Админ | Дата: Четверг, 17.10.2013, 18:52 | Сообщение # 12 |
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Autumn Song by Katherine Mansfield
Now's the time when children's noses
All become as red as roses
And the colour of their faces
Makes me think of orchard places
Where the juicy apples grow,
And tomatoes in a row.
And to-day the hardened sinner
Never could be late for dinner,
But will jump up to the table
Just as soon as he is able,
Ask for three times hot roast mutton--
Oh! the shocking little glutton.
Come then, find your ball and racket,
Pop into your winter jacket,
With the lovely bear-skin lining.
While the sun is brightly shining,
Let us run and play together
And just love the autumn weather.
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| Админ | Дата: Воскресенье, 27.10.2013, 16:14 | Сообщение # 13 |
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Cradle Song by William Blake
Sweet dreams form a shade,
O'er my lovely infants head.
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
By happy silent moony beams
Sweet sleep with soft down.
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep Angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.
Sweet smiles in the night,
Hover over my delight.
Sweet smiles Mothers smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.
Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes,
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.
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| Админ | Дата: Воскресенье, 27.10.2013, 16:14 | Сообщение # 14 |
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«Night» , William Blake
The sun descending in the west,
The evening star does shine;
The birds are silent in their nest.
And I must seek for mine.
The moon, like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.
Farewell, green fields and happy grove,
Where flocks have took delight:
Where lambs have nibbled, silent move
The feet of angels bright;
Unseen they pour blessing
And joy without ceasing
On each bud and blossom,
On each sleeping bosom.
They look in every thoughtless nest
Where birds are covered warm;
They visit caves of every beast,
to keep them all from harm:
If they see any weeping
That should have been sleeping,
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.
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| Админ | Дата: Воскресенье, 27.10.2013, 16:14 | Сообщение # 15 |
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Afton Water
BY ROBERT BURNS
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,
I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,
Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills;
There daily I wander as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.
How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow;
There oft, as mild Ev'ning sweeps over the lea,
The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As gathering sweet flowrets she stems thy clear wave.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
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| Админ | Дата: Воскресенье, 27.10.2013, 16:15 | Сообщение # 16 |
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Fear No More
Fear no more the heat o' the sun;
Nor the furious winter's rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney sweepers come to dust.
Fear no more the frown of the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dread thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan;
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!
William Shakespeare
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| Админ | Дата: Воскресенье, 27.10.2013, 16:15 | Сообщение # 17 |
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Christopher Morley
The trees
The poplar is a French tree,
A tall and laughing wench tree,
A slender tree, a tender tree,
That whispers to the rain ---
An easy, breezy flapper tree,
A lithe and blithe and dapper tree,
A girl of trees, a pearl of trees
Beside the shallow Aisne
The oak is a British tree,
And not at all a skittish tree,
A rough tree, a tough tree,
A knotty tree to bruise,
A drives-his-roots-in-deep tree,
A what-I-find-I-keep tree,
A mighty tree, a blighty tree,
A tree of stubborn thews.
The pine tree is our own tree,
A grown tree, a cone tree,
The tree to face a bitter wind,
The tree for mast and spar---
A mountain tree, a fine tree,
A fragrant turpentine tree,
A limber tree, a timber tree,
And resinous with tar!
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| Админ | Дата: Воскресенье, 27.10.2013, 16:15 | Сообщение # 18 |
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Bob Dylan – If Not For You
If not for you,
Babe, I couldn’t find the door,
Couldn’t even see the floor,
I’d be sad and blue,
If not for you.
If not for you,
Babe, I’d lay awake all night,
Wait for the mornin’ light
To shine in through,
But it would not be new,
If not for you.
If not for you
My sky would fall,
Rain would gather too.
Without your love I’d be nowhere at all,
I’d be lost if not for you,
And you know it’s true.
If not for you
My sky would fall,
Rain would gather too.
Without your love I’d be nowhere at all,
Oh! what would I do
If not for you.
If not for you,
Winter would have no spring,
Couldn’t hear the robin sing,
I just wouldn’t have a clue,
Anyway it wouldn’t ring true,
If not for you.
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| Админ | Дата: Воскресенье, 27.10.2013, 16:15 | Сообщение # 19 |
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A traveler on a dusty road
Strewed acorns on the lea;
And one took root and sprouted up,
And grew into a tree.
Love sought its shade at evening time
To breathe his early vows,
And age was pleased, in heats of noon,
To bask beneath its boughs;
The dormouse loved its dangling twigs,
The birds sweet music bore;
It stood a glory in its place,
A blessing evermore.
A little spring had lost its way
Amid the grass and fern;
A passing stranger scooped a well
Where weary men might turn.
He walled it in, and hung with care
A ladle at the brink;
He thought not of the deed he did,
But judged that all might drink.
He passed again, and lo! the well,
By summer never dried,
Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues
And saved a life beside.
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| Админ | Дата: Воскресенье, 27.10.2013, 16:16 | Сообщение # 20 |
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William Wordsworth
Daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high over vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd.
A host, of golden daffodils.
Beside the lake, benith the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced , but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed-and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of \solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
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