Take some Picts, Celts and Silures
And let them settle,
Then overrun them with Roman conquerors.
...

No distance ever separates
Dreams and desires
No mirror ever dissolves
Reflection and water
...

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
...

Translated into English in 1859 by Edward FitzGerald

I.
Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
...

I don't know politics but I know the names
Of those in power, and can repeat them like
Days of week, or names of months, beginning with Nehru.
...

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
...

They sent me a salwar kameez
            peacock-blue,
                  and another
   glistening like an orange split open,
...

Look December
Don't ever come now!
Look, December
Deserts unnumbered have expanded in me.
...

What you have heard is true. I was in his house.
His wife carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His
daughter filed her nails, his son went out for the
night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol
...

Tell me, O moisture
Halted in the eternity of my eyes
Which stagnant epoch has confined you!
God weeps rain
...

When I were schooled english wernt my thing.
My scores in English lurning no bells done ring.
Yea I grajaded but ain't english smart ….no lie!
Come end a school year the teach said 'By Bri.'
...

How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer,
wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns.
How much better to cruise these local, familiar streets,
fully grasping the meaning of every roadsign and billboard
...

My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but oh my soul is white!
White as an angel is the English child,
...

(Español)
Mueran contigo, Laura, pues moriste,
los afectos que en vano te desean,
los ojos a quien privas de que vean
...

Here is a coast; here is a harbor;
here, after a meager diet of horizon, is some scenery:
impractically shaped and--who knows?--self-pitying mountains,
sad and harsh beneath their frivolous greenery,
...

Moko Kahan Dhundhere Bande
Mein To Tere Paas Mein
Na Teerath Mein, Na Moorat Mein
Na Ekant Niwas Mein
...

English Teeth, English Teeth!
Shining in the sun
A part of British heritage
Aye, each and every one.
...

The darkness crumbles away
It is the same old druid Time as ever,
Only a live thing leaps my hand,
A queer sardonic rat,
...

I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,
In the fields between La Bassée and Bethune;
Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,
Red poppy floods of June,
...

Tuesday morning, October 15, 2024 at 10: 30 a.m. and continued at 10: 42 a.m. and 10: 44 a.m. and 10: 55 a.m.; it is now 11: 36 a.m. and counting, and this poem has yet to appear in Poem Hunter's "New Poem" listing following it's due publication forty-one (41) minutes ago …

A police proxy wiped out my poem of yesterday by this title above—the full title being 'Meanwhile, Here In Raleigh, Cary,
I Have Absolutely No Work, No Clients: Evidence Mounts In Widespread Covert Police Operation Directed At Me'—just minutes ago this morning, a poem that includes an indictment of North Carolina State University(NCSU) as being a chief police proxy in denying me work following the 2001-2002 academic year, in the person of my immediate supervisor Ann 'Nancy' Penrose, Head of the Writing And Rhetoric Program, who instead rehired a small group of women English teachers who had been complained about aplenty by NCSU students and their parents alike, entering the English Department itself to do so—I witnessed this happen first-hand—and even though I have a Ph.D. In English—these women don't—and received stellar evaluations from both students and faculty alike for my teaching of English composition courses, classes for that academic year, and received high praise from the then Chair of the English Department, Dr. Tom Lisk, who had hired me. Nancy Penrose was friends with these women teachers—cronyism is alive and well at NCSU!
...

My English is not British English,
Not American English,
Not Australian English,
Not Canadian English,
...

Is it a criticism? I doubt.

Rough notes, what to say it about? How to take a note of all that?
...

He is a professor of British English,
Accent and stress of King's Standard,
He of American English,
Slang, pronunciation and curtailed and shortened speech
...

No question but English
Gajanan Mishra

No question please,
...

On
International Mother Langauge Day,
The 21st of February
Thought I of
...

Language is created by man, a mark of civilization for speaking, writing and reading
To acquire knowledge, create literature and share discoveries and new ideas to world;
Languages give identities to various groups of men in many nations of the world;
Learning knowledge by language, man has done progressive works in modern world!
...

1
Oh, so sure sir, so funny but serious. English is a mixture sir, that's why no one has copyright on it. Let me say each one's language is English. Say whatever you like that's english. Do whatever you like that's english. Superior foolish! Is it? But sir, we are English of our land, we can't leave but we are ready to take with us. Much with it we are to go ahead. Some say no mistake in english. Fault finding is also not allowed in our culture. English English English, with it we are to take steps to measure the world. Let us use English as a ladder, Our English, Indian English. Nowhere but everywhere sir. Excuse me for a few words!

2
...

TRANSLATIONS OF THE OLDEST RHYMING POEMS IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE

These are translations of some of the oldest rhyming poems in the English language. While the focus is on early English rhyming poems, there is a section on early rhyming poems from other languages at the bottom of this page. The oldest Old English (i.e., Anglo-Saxon) poems did not rhyme, but were alliterative and used repetition of consonant and vowel sounds to create word-music. For example:
...

THE RUIN in a Modern English Translation

'The Ruin' is one of the great poems of English antiquity. This modern English translation of one of the very best Old English/Anglo-Saxon poems is followed by footnotes, a summary and analysis, a discussion of the theme, and the translator's comments.
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