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poem.id | poem.ts | poem.title | poem.date | poem.content | poem.author |
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101 | 2018-03-01 03:50:08 | Sonnet Lxxi | 12/31/2002 | William Shakespeare | |
102 | 2018-03-01 03:50:12 | Sonnet Xcix | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
103 | 2018-03-01 03:50:15 | Sonnet Xc | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
104 | 2018-03-01 03:50:18 | Song of the Witches: "Double, double toil and trouble" | 11/20/2015 | Double, double toil and trouble;Fire burn and caldron bubble.Fillet of a fenny snake,In the caldron boil and bake;Eye of newt and toe of frog,Wool of bat and tongue of dog,Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,For a charm of powerful trouble,Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.Double, double toil and trouble;Fire burn and caldron bubble.Cool it with a baboon's blood,Then the charm is firm and good. |
William Shakespeare |
105 | 2018-03-01 03:50:24 | Sonnet Xxxvi | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
106 | 2018-03-01 03:50:28 | Sonnet Xxxvii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
107 | 2018-03-01 03:50:33 | Sonnets Iii | 1/4/2003 | William Shakespeare | |
108 | 2018-03-01 03:50:40 | Some Say That Ever ‘Gainst That Season Comes (Hamlet, Act I, Scene I) | 6/3/2015 | Marcellus to Horatio and Bernardo, after seeing the Ghost,Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comesWherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,This bird of dawning singeth all night long;And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. | William Shakespeare |
109 | 2018-03-01 03:50:42 | Sonnet Xcv | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
110 | 2018-03-01 03:50:47 | Sonnet Lxxiii | 12/31/2002 | William Shakespeare | |
111 | 2018-03-01 03:50:50 | Sonnet Lxxxv | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
112 | 2018-03-01 03:50:54 | Sonnets Xix: Devouring Time, Blunt Thou The Lion's Paws | 1/1/2004 | William Shakespeare | |
113 | 2018-03-01 03:51:00 | Sonnet X | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
114 | 2018-03-01 03:51:02 | Sonnets To The Sundry Notes Of Music | 3/30/2010 | William Shakespeare | |
115 | 2018-03-01 03:51:08 | Speech: "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow" | 7/20/2016 | (from Macbeth, spoken by Macbeth)Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is heard no more. It is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing. |
William Shakespeare |
116 | 2018-03-01 03:51:12 | Sonnet Viii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
117 | 2018-03-01 03:51:16 | The Canakin Clink Pub Song (From 'Othello') | 2/4/2015 | And let me the canakin clink, clink;And let me the canakin clinkA soldier's a man;A life's but a span;Why, then, let a soldier drink. | William Shakespeare |
118 | 2018-03-01 03:51:18 | Sonnet Liii | 5/21/2001 | William Shakespeare | |
119 | 2018-03-01 03:51:22 | Sonnet Lxxix | 12/31/2002 | William Shakespeare | |
120 | 2018-03-01 03:51:28 | Sonnets Vi | 1/4/2003 | William Shakespeare | |
121 | 2018-03-01 03:51:32 | You and your whole race | 7/31/2015 | You and your whole race.Look down upon the town in which you liveAnd be ashamed.Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves And be ashamedThat such supine poverty exists there,That such stupid ignorance breeds children thereBehind such humble shelters of despair—That you yourselves have not the sense to careNor the manhood to stand up and sayI dare you to come one step nearer, evil world,With your hands of greed seeking to touch my throat, I dare you to come one step nearer me: When you can say that you will be free! |
Langston Hughes |
122 | 2018-03-01 03:51:37 | Thanksgiving Time | 5/8/2015 | When the night winds whistle through the trees and blow the crisp brown leaves a-crackling down,When the autumn moon is big and yellow-orange and round,When old Jack Frost is sparkling on the ground, It's Thanksgiving Time!When the pantry jars are full of mince-meat and the shelves are laden with sweet spices for a cake,When the butcher man sends up a turkey nice and fat to bake,When the stores are crammed with everything ingenious cooks can make, It's Thanksgiving Time!When the gales of coming winter outside your window howl,When the air is sharp and cheery so it drives away your scowl, When one's appetite craves turkey and will have no other fowl, It's Thanksgiving Time! |
Langston Hughes |
123 | 2018-03-01 03:51:41 | Warning | 5/11/2015 | Negroes,Sweet and docile,Meek, humble and kind:Beware the dayThey change their mind!WindIn the cotton fields,Gentle Breeze:Beware the hourIt uproots trees! | Langston Hughes |
124 | 2018-03-01 03:51:45 | Feet o' Jesus | 7/23/2015 | At the feet o' Jesus,Sorrow like a sea.Lordy, let yo' mercyCome driftin' down on me.At the feet o' JesusAt yo' feet I stand.O, ma little Jesus,Please reach out yo' hand. | Langston Hughes |
125 | 2018-03-01 03:51:49 | Park Bench | 3/17/2015 | I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two.I beg a dime for dinner- You got a butler and maid. But I'm wakin' up! Say, ain't you afraidThat I might, just maybe, In a year or two, Move on over To Park Avenue? | Langston Hughes |
126 | 2018-03-01 03:51:52 | The City | 7/22/2015 | In the morning the citySpreads its wingsMaking a songIn stone that sings.In the evening the cityGoes to bedHanging lights Above its head. | Langston Hughes |
127 | 2018-03-01 03:51:57 | Dying Beast | 3/19/2016 | Sensing death, The buzzards gather — Noting the last struggle Of flesh under weather, Noting the last glance Of agonized eye At passing wind And boundless sky. | Langston Hughes |
128 | 2018-03-01 03:52:00 | Song For A Dark Girl | 3/17/2015 | Way Down South in Dixie(Break the heart of me)They hung my black young loverTo a cross roads tree.Way Down South in Dixie(Bruised body high in air)I asked the white Lord JesusWhat was the use of prayer.Way Down South in Dixie(Break the heart of me)Love is a naked shadowOn a gnarled and naked tree. | Langston Hughes |
129 | 2018-03-01 03:52:04 | God | 3/7/2015 | I am God—Without one friend,Alone in my purityWorld without end.Below me young loversTread the sweet ground—But I am God—I cannot come down.Spring!Life is love!Love is life only!Better to be humanThan God—and lonely. | Langston Hughes |
130 | 2018-03-01 03:52:06 | Kids Who Die | 8/8/2015 | This is for the kids who die,Black and white,For kids will die certainly.The old and rich will live on awhile,As always,Eating blood and gold,Letting kids die.Kids will die in the swamps of MississippiOrganizing sharecroppersKids will die in the streets of ChicagoOrganizing workersKids will die in the orange groves of CaliforniaTelling others to get togetherWhites and Filipinos,Negroes and Mexicans,All kinds of kids will dieWho don't believe in lies, and bribes, and contentmentAnd a lousy peace.Of course, the wise and the learnedWho pen editorials in the papers,And the gentlemen with Dr. in front of their namesWhite and black,Who make surveys and write booksWill live on weaving words to smother the kids who die,And the sleazy courts,And the bribe-reaching police,And the blood-loving generals,And the money-loving preachersWill all raise their hands against the kids who die,Beating them with laws and clubs and bayonets and bulletsTo frighten the people—For the kids who die are like iron in the blood of the people—And the old and rich don't want the peopleTo taste the iron of the kids who die,Don't want the people to get wise to their own power,To believe an Angelo Herndon, or even get togetherListen, kids who die—Maybe, now, there will be no monument for youExcept in our heartsMaybe your bodies'll be lost in a swampOr a prison grave, or the potter's field,Or the rivers where you're drowned like LeibknechtBut the day will come—You are sure yourselves that it is coming—When the marching feet of the massesWill raise for you a living monument of love,And joy, and laughter,And black hands and white hands clasped as one,And a song that reaches the sky—The song of the life triumphantThrough the kids who die. |
Langston Hughes |
131 | 2018-03-01 03:52:09 | Pierrot | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
132 | 2018-03-01 03:52:16 | Prize Fighter | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
133 | 2018-03-01 03:52:23 | Question [1] | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
134 | 2018-03-01 03:52:28 | Madam And The Census Man | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
135 | 2018-03-01 03:52:31 | Madam's Past History | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
136 | 2018-03-01 03:52:37 | Sick Room | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
137 | 2018-03-01 03:52:42 | To Certain | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
138 | 2018-03-01 03:52:48 | Sylvester’s Dying Bed | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
139 | 2018-03-01 03:52:53 | Personal | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
140 | 2018-03-01 03:52:58 | Lincoln Monument: Washington | 3/29/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
141 | 2018-03-01 03:53:00 | When Sue Wears Red | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
142 | 2018-03-01 03:53:04 | Morning After | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
143 | 2018-03-01 03:53:11 | Me And The Mule | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
144 | 2018-03-01 03:53:16 | Wealth | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
145 | 2018-03-01 03:53:21 | Lonesome Place | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
146 | 2018-03-01 03:53:27 | Genius Child | 7/23/2012 | Langston Hughes | |
147 | 2018-03-01 03:53:34 | Songs | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
148 | 2018-03-01 03:53:40 | Negro Dancers | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
149 | 2018-03-01 03:53:47 | Snake | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
150 | 2018-03-01 03:53:52 | Trumpet Player | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
151 | 2018-03-01 03:53:54 | Madam And The Rent Man | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
152 | 2018-03-01 03:53:59 | Wisdom And War | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
153 | 2018-03-01 03:54:03 | Fire-Caught | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
154 | 2018-03-01 03:54:09 | Catch | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
155 | 2018-03-01 03:54:16 | For Selma | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
156 | 2018-03-01 03:54:19 | Motto | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
157 | 2018-03-01 03:54:25 | Dream Boogie | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
158 | 2018-03-01 03:54:27 | Peace | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
159 | 2018-03-01 03:54:32 | Silence | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
160 | 2018-03-01 03:54:35 | Brass Spittoons | 3/27/2010 | Langston Hughes | |
161 | 2018-03-01 03:54:41 | Still Another Day: XVII/Men | 11/4/2015 | The truth is in the prologue. Death to the romantic fool,to the expert in solitary confinement,I'm the same as the teacher from Colombia,the rotarian from Philadelphia, the merchantfrom Paysandu who save his silverto come here. We all arrive by different streets,by unequal languages, at Silence. | Pablo Neruda |
162 | 2018-03-01 03:54:47 | Still Another Day: I | 11/4/2015 | Today is that day, the day that carrieda desperate light that since has died.Don't let the squatters know:let's keep it all between us,day, between your belland my secret.Today is dead winter in the forgotten landthat comes to visit me, with a cross on the mapand a volcano in the snow, to return to me,to return again the waterfallen on the roof of my childhood.Today when the sun began with its shaftsto tell the story, so clear, so old,the slanting rain fell like a sword,the rain my hard heart welcomes.You, my love, still asleep in August,my queen, my woman, my vastness, my geographykiss of mud, the carbon-coated zither,you, vestment of my persistent song,today you are reborn again and with the sky'sblack water confuse me and compel me:I must renew my bones in your kingdom,I must still uncloud my earthly duties. |
Pablo Neruda |
163 | 2018-03-01 03:54:50 | Ode To Ironing | 3/18/2015 | Poetry is white:it comes from water swathed in drops,it wrinkles and gathers,this planet's skin has to spread out,the sea's whiteness has to be ironed out,and the hands keep moving,the sacred surfaces get smoothed,and things are done this way:the hands make the world every day,fire conjoins with steel,linen, canvas, and cotton arrivefrom the scuffles in the laundries,and from light a dove is born:chastity returns out of the foam. |
Pablo Neruda |
164 | 2018-03-01 03:54:56 | Epithalamium | 10/20/2015 | Do you remember whenin winterwe reached the island?The sea raised toward usa crown of cold.On the walls the climbing vinesmurmured lettingdark leaves fallas we passed.You too were a little leafthat trembled on my chest.Life's wind put you there.At first I did not see you: I did not knowthat you were walking with me,until your rootspierced my chestjoined the threads of my bloodspoke through my mouthflourished with me.Thus was your inadvertent presenceinvisible leaf or branchand suddenly my heart was filled with fruits and soundsYou occupied the housethat darkly awaited youand then you lit the lamps....the island of stone and mossechoed in the secret of its grottoeslike the song in your mouthand the flower that was bornbetween the crevices of the stonewith its secret syllablespole, as it passed, your nameof blazing plantand the steep rock raisedlike the wall of the world,knew my song, well beloved,and all things spoke ofyour love, my love, belovedbecause earth, time, sea, islandlife, tidethe seed that half opensits lips in the earththe devouring flowerthe movement of springeverything recognizes us.Our love was bornoutside the wallsin the windin the nightin the earthand that's why the clay and the flowerthe mud and the rootsknow your nameand know that my mouthjoined yoursbecause we were sown together in the earthand we alone did not know itand that we grow togetherand flower togetherand thereforewhen we passyour name is on the petalsof the rose that grows on the stone,my name is in the grottoesThey know it allwe have no secretswe have grown togetherbut we did not know it.The sea knows our love, the stonesof the rocky heightknow that our kisses floweredwith infinite purityas in their crevices a scarletmouth dawnsjust as our love and the kissthat joins your mouth and minein an eternal flower.My love,sweet spring,flower and sea, surround us.We did not change itfor our winterwhen the windbegan to decipher your nameand today at all hours it repeatswhenthe leaves did not knowthat you were a leafwhenthe roots did not know that you were seeking mein my breast.Love, love,springoffers us the skybut the dark earthis our nameour love belongs to all time and the earth.Loving each other, my armbeneath your neck of sandwe shall waitas earth and time changeon the islandas the leaves fallfrom the silent climbing vinesas autumn departsthrough the broken window.But weare going to wait forour friendour red-eyed friendthe fire,when the wind againshakes the frontiers of the islandand does not know the names of everyonewinterwill seek us, my lovealwaysit will seek us, because we know itbecause we do not fear itbecause havewith usfireforever,spring with usforeverand when a leaffallsfrom the climbing vinesyou know, my lovewhat name is written oon that leaf,a names that is yours and mineour love name, a singlebeing, the arrowthat pierced winterthe invincible lovethe fire of the daysa leafthat dropped upon my breasta leaf from the treeof lifethat made a nest and sangthat put out rootsthat gave flowers and fruits.And so you see, my love,how I move around the islandaround the worldsafe in the midst of springcrazy with light in the coldwalking tranquil in the firelifting your petalweight in my armsas if I had never walkedexcpet with you, my heartas if I could not walkexcept with youas if I could not singexcept when you sing. |
Pablo Neruda |
165 | 2018-03-01 03:55:01 | Unity | 6/18/2015 | There is something dense, united, settled in the depths,repeating its number, its identical sign.How it is noted that stones have touched time,in their refined matter there is an odor of age,of water brought by the sea, from salt and sleep. I'm encircled by a single thing, a single movement: a mineral weight, a honeyed lightcling to the sound of the word "noche":the tint of wheat, of ivory, of tears,things of leather, of wood, of wool,archaic, faded, uniform,collect around me like walls.I work quietly, wheeling over myself,a crow over death, a crow in mourning.I mediate, isolated in the spread of seasons,centric, encircled by a silent geometry:a partial temperature drifts down from the sky,a distant empire of confused unitiesreunites encircling me. |
Pablo Neruda |
166 | 2018-03-01 03:55:03 | Ode to Hope | 4/20/2015 | Oceanic dawnat the centerof my life,waves like grapes,the sky's solitude,you fill meand floodthe complete sea,the undiminished sky,tempoand space,sea foam's whitebattalions,the orange earth,the sun'sfiery waistin agony,so manygifts and talents,birds soaring into their dreams,and the sea, the sea,suspendedaroma,chorus of rich, resonant salt,and meanwhile,we men,touch the water,struggling,and hoping,we touch the sea,hoping.And the waves tell the firm coast:'Everything will be fulfilled.' |
Pablo Neruda |
167 | 2018-03-01 03:55:08 | Ode To The Cat | 1/20/2015 | The animals were imperfect,long-tailed,unfortunate in their heads.Little by little theyput themselves together,making themselves a landscape,acquiring spots, grace, flight.The cat,only the catappeared complete and proud:he was born completely finished,walking alone and knowing what he wanted.Man wants to be fish or fowl,the snake would like to have wingsthe dog is a disoriented lion,the engineer would like to be a poet,the fly studies to be a swift,the poet tries to imitate the fly,but the catonly wants to be a catand any cat is a catfrom his whiskers to his tail,from his hopeful vision of a ratto the real thing,from the night to his golden eyes.There is no unitylike him,the moon and the flowerdo not have such context:he is just one thinglike the sun or the topaz,and the elastic line of his contoursis firm and subtle likethe line of a ship's prow.His yellow eyeshave just onegrooveto coin the gold of night time.Oh littleemperor without a sphere of influenceconqueror without a country,smallest living-room tiger, nuptialsultan of the sky,of the erotic roof-tiles,the wind of lovein the stormyou claimwhen you passand placefour delicate feeton the ground,smelling,distrustingall that is terrestrial,because everythingis too uncleanfor the immaculate foot of the cat.Oh independent wild beastof the housearrogantvestige of the night,lazy, gymnasticand alien,very deep cat,secret policemanof bedrooms,insigniaof adisappeared velvet,surely there is noenigmain your manner,perhaps you are not a mystery,everyone knows of youand you belongto the least mysterious inhabitant,perhaps everyone believes it,everyone believes himself the owner,proprietor,uncleof a cat,companion,colleague,discipleor friendof his cat.Not me.I do not subscribe.I do not know the cat.I know it all, life and its archipelago,the sea and the incalculable city,botany,the gyneceum and its frenzies,the plus and the minus of mathematics,the volcanic frauds of the world,the unreal shell of the crocodile,the unknown kindness of the fireman,the blue atavism of the priest,but I cannot decipher a cat.My reason slips on his indifference,his eyes have golden numbers. |
Pablo Neruda |
168 | 2018-03-01 03:55:13 | Come With Me, I Said, And No One Knew (VII) | 9/9/2015 | Come with me, I said, and no one knewwhere, or how my pain throbbed,no carnations or barcaroles for me, only a wound that love had opened.I said it again: Come with me, as if I were dying,and no one saw the moon that bled in my mouthor the blood that rose into the silence.O Love, now we can forget the star that has such thorns!That is why when I heard your voice repeatCome with me, it was as if you had let loosethe grief, the love, the fury of a cork-trapped winethe geysers flooding from deep in its vault:in my mouth I felt the taste of fire again,of blood and carnations, of rock and scald. |
Pablo Neruda |
169 | 2018-03-01 03:55:16 | Ode To Age | 5/14/2015 | I don't believe in age.All old peoplecarryin their eyes,a child,and children,at timesobserve us with theeyes of wise ancients.Shall we measurelifein meters or kilometersor months?How far since you were born?How longmust you wanderuntillike all meninstead of walking on its surfacewe rest below the earth?To the man, to the womanwho utilized theirenergies, goodness, strength,anger, love, tenderness,to those who trulyaliveflowered,and in their sensuality matured,let us not applythe measureof a timethat may besomething else, a mineralmantle, a solarbird, a flower,something, maybe,but not a measure.Time, metalor bird, longpetiolate flower,stretchthroughman's life,shower himwith blossomsand withbrightwateror with hidden sun.I proclaim youroad,not shroud,a pristineladderwith treadsof air,a suit lovinglyrenewedthrough springtimesaround the world.Now,time, I roll you up,I deposit you in mybait boxand I am off to fishwith your long linethe fishes of the dawn!translated from the Spanish by Margaret Sayers Peden |
Pablo Neruda |
170 | 2018-03-01 03:55:18 | The Portrait In The Rock | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
171 | 2018-03-01 03:55:23 | The Men | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
172 | 2018-03-01 03:55:27 | The House Of Odes | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
173 | 2018-03-01 03:55:30 | Oda Al Tomate | 3/29/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
174 | 2018-03-01 03:55:36 | Waltz | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
175 | 2018-03-01 03:55:39 | The People | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
176 | 2018-03-01 03:55:45 | The Old Women Of The Ocean | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
177 | 2018-03-01 03:55:50 | Sonnet Ix: There Where The Waves Shatter | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
178 | 2018-03-01 03:55:54 | Soneto Xvii | 3/29/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
179 | 2018-03-01 03:55:57 | What Spain Was Like | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
180 | 2018-03-01 03:56:00 | Sonnet Xiii:The Light That Rises From Your Feet To Your Hair | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
181 | 2018-03-01 03:56:05 | Lxxxiv From: ‘cien Sonetos De Amor’ | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
182 | 2018-03-01 03:56:11 | The Tree Is Here, Still, In Pure Stone | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
183 | 2018-03-01 03:56:16 | Poor Creatures | 3/29/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
184 | 2018-03-01 03:56:20 | Triangles | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
185 | 2018-03-01 03:56:23 | Lone Gentleman | 3/29/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
186 | 2018-03-01 03:56:26 | Ode To Tomatoes | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
187 | 2018-03-01 03:56:32 | The United Fruit Co. | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
188 | 2018-03-01 03:56:35 | Ode To Clothes | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
189 | 2018-03-01 03:56:39 | Song Of Despair | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
190 | 2018-03-01 03:56:42 | Sonnet Viii: If Your Eyes Were Not The Color Of The Moon | 3/29/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
191 | 2018-03-01 03:56:45 | Poet's Obligation | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
192 | 2018-03-01 03:56:52 | Sonnet Lxxiii: Maybe You'Ll Remember | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
193 | 2018-03-01 03:56:56 | From The Heights Of Maccho Picchu | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
194 | 2018-03-01 03:57:07 | The Eighth Of September | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
195 | 2018-03-01 03:57:10 | Walking Around (Original Spanish) | 3/29/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
196 | 2018-03-01 03:57:15 | Potter | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
197 | 2018-03-01 03:57:17 | Sonnet Xlii: I Hunt For A Sign Of You | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
198 | 2018-03-01 03:57:20 | Leave Me A Place Underground | 3/29/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
199 | 2018-03-01 03:57:24 | Gautama Christ | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
200 | 2018-03-01 03:57:28 | Finale | 3/22/2010 | Pablo Neruda | |
poem.id | poem.ts | poem.title | poem.date | poem.content | poem.author |