Short Poems

When I departed am, ring thou my knell,
Thou pittifull, and pretty Philomel:
And when I'm laid out for a Corse; then be
Thou Sexton (Red-brest) for to cover me.

Men are not born Kings, but are men renown'd;
Chose first, confirm'd next, & at last are crown'd.

You say y'are sweet; how sho'd we know
Whether that you be sweet or no?
From Powders and Perfumes keep free;
Then we shall smell how sweet you be.

Wagner gave six concerts: five
I have managed to survive.
He announces other two:
Stand these—hang me if I do!

The warmth grows by degrees;
One plum-blossom after another blooms.

Over the green and yellow rice-fields sweep the shadows of the autumn clouds followed by the swift-chasing sun.
The bees forget to sip their honey; drunken with light they foolishly hover and hum.
The ducks in the islands of the river clamor in joy for mere nothing.
Let none go back home, brothers, this morning, let none go to work.
Let us take the blue sky by storm and plunder space as we run.
Laughter floats in the air like foam on the flood.
Brothers, let us squander our morning in futile songs.

Sent as a present from Annam—
A red cockatoo.
Coloured like the peach-tree blossom,
Speaking with the speech of men.
And they did to it what is always done
To the learned and eloquent.
They took a cage with stout bars
And shut it up inside.

Venus I called you when our love began:
And I was right; and you Pandemian.

To see the Kaiser's epitaph
Would make a weeping willow laugh.

Can it be that there is no moon
And that spring is not
The spring of old,
While I alone remain
The same person?