Jayaraj Vyas

I dreaded that first Robin, so : Emily Dickinson : : Bird Poems : :

I dreaded that first Robin, so : : Emily Dickinson I dreaded that first Robin, so,But He is mastered, now,I’m accustomed to Him grown,He hurts a little, though— I thought If I could only liveTill that first Shout got by—Not all Pianos in the WoodsHad power to mangle me— I dared not meet the Daffodils—ForContinue reading “I dreaded that first Robin, so : Emily Dickinson : : Bird Poems : :”

Nightingale Poems : Various Poets : : Bird Poems : :

* The Owl And The Nightingale : : By Anonymous : : composed as early as 1189 or shortly thereafter : : Lines 1 through 100Page 2[folio 233r.1]ICH was in one sumere dale,in one suþe diȝele hale,iherde ich holde grete talean hule and one niȝtingale.Þat plait was stif & starc & strong, 5sum wile softeContinue reading “Nightingale Poems : Various Poets : : Bird Poems : :”

Philomela : Matthew Arnold : : Bird Poems : :

Philomela : : By Matthew Arnold : : Hark! ah, the nightingale—The tawny-throated!Hark, from that moonlit cedar what a burst!What triumph! hark!—what pain! O wanderer from a Grecian shore,Still, after many years, in distant lands,Still nourishing in thy bewilder’d brainThat wild, unquench’d, deep-sunken, old-world pain— Say, will it never heal?And can this fragrant lawnWith itsContinue reading “Philomela : Matthew Arnold : : Bird Poems : :”

The Frog And The Nightingale : Vikram Seth : : Bird Poems : :

The Frog And The Nightingale : : By Vikram Sheth Kolkata, India. Once upon a time a frogCroaked away in Bingle BogEvery night from dusk to dawnHe croaked awn and awn and awnOther creatures loathed his voice,But, alas, they had no choice,And the crass cacophonyBlared out from the sumac treeAt whose foot the frog eachContinue reading “The Frog And The Nightingale : Vikram Seth : : Bird Poems : :”

The Nightingale , A Conversation Poem : S T Coleridge : : Bird Poems : :

The NightingaleA Conversation Poem, April, 1798 No cloud, no relique of the sunken dayDistinguishes the West, no long thin slipOf sullen light, no obscure trembling hues.Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!You see the glimmer of the stream beneath,But hear no murmuring: it flows silently.O’er its soft bed of verdure. All is still.AContinue reading “The Nightingale , A Conversation Poem : S T Coleridge : : Bird Poems : :”

Ode To A Nightingale : John Keats : : Bird Poems : :

Ode to a Nightingale : : By John Keats ( 1795 – 1821 ) My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being tooContinue reading “Ode To A Nightingale : John Keats : : Bird Poems : :”

Pigeon : Lilian Moore : : Bird Poems : :

Pigeon : : by Lilian MoorePigeon are city folkContentTo live with concreteAnd cement They seldomTryThe sky A pigeon never singsOf hillAnd flowering hedgeBut busily commutesFrom sidewalkTo his ledge Oh Pigeon what waste of wings! — Lilian Moore

Pigeons : Philip Larkin : : Bird Poems : :

PIGEONS : : By Philip Larkin ( 1922 – 1985 ) On shallow slates the pigeons shift together,Backing against a thin rain from the westBlown across each sunk head and settled feather.Huddling round the warm stack suits them best,Till winter daylight weakens, and they growHardly defined against the brickwork. Soon,Light from a small intense lopsidedContinue reading “Pigeons : Philip Larkin : : Bird Poems : :”

Pigeons : James Henry : : Bird Poems : :

Pigeons : : By James Henry ( 1798 – 1876 ) : : : : By what mistake were pigeons made so happy,So plump and fat and sleek and well content,So little with the affairs of others meddling,So little meddled with? say, a collared dog,And hard worked ox, and horse still harder worked,And caged canary,Continue reading “Pigeons : James Henry : : Bird Poems : :”

Hope is the Thing with Feathers : Emily Dickinson : : Bird Poems : :

“Hope” is the thing with feathers : by Emily Dickinson ( 1830 – 1886 ) “Hope” is the thing with feathers –That perches in the soul –And sings the tune without the words –And never stops – at all – And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –And sore must be the stormContinue reading “Hope is the Thing with Feathers : Emily Dickinson : : Bird Poems : :”