Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

January Morning

II have discovered that most ofthe beauties of travel are due tothe strange hours we keep to see them:the domes of the Church ofthe Paulist Fathers..

© William Carlos Williams

The Term

A rumpled sheetOf brown paperAbout the lengthAnd apparent bulkOf a man wasRolling with theWind slowly overAnd over inThe street asA car drove..

© William Carlos Williams

Hunters In The Snow

The over-all picture is wintericy mountainsin the background the returnfrom the hunt it is toward eveningfrom the leftsturdy hunters lead intheir..

© William Carlos Williams

Primrose

Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow!It is not a color.It is summer!It is the wind on a willow,the lap of waves, the shadowunder a bush, a bird, a..

© William Carlos Williams

Tract

I will teach you my townspeoplehow to perform a funeralfor you have it over a troopof artists-unless one should scour the world-you have the ground..

© William Carlos Williams

The Uses Of Poetry

I've fond anticipation of a dayO'erfilled with pure diversion presently,For I must read a lady poesyThe while we glide by many a leafy bay,Hid deep..

© William Carlos Williams

January

Again I reply to the triple windsrunning chromatic fifths of derisionoutside my window:Play louder.You will not succeed. I ambound more to my..

© William Carlos Williams

Apology

Why do I write today?The beauty ofthe terrible facesof our nonentitesstirs me to it:colored womenday workers—old and experienced—returning home at..

© William Carlos Williams

The Great Figure

Among the rainand lightsI saw the figure 5in goldon a redfiretruckmovingtenseunheededto gong clangssiren howlsand wheels rumblingthrough the dark..

© William Carlos Williams

The Dance

In Breughel's great picture, The Kermess,the dancers go round, they go round andaround, the squeal and the blare and thetweedle of bagpipes, a bugle..

© William Carlos Williams

First Praise

Lady of dusk-wood fastnesses,Thou art my Lady.I have known the crisp, splintering leaf-tread with thee on before,White, slender through green..

© William Carlos Williams

The Widow's Lament In Springtime

Sorrow is my own yardwhere the new grassflames as it has flamedoften before but notwith the cold firethat closes round me this year.Thirtyfive yearsI..

© William Carlos Williams

Nantucket

Flowers through the windowlavender and yellowchanged by white curtains –Smell of cleanliness –Sunshine of late afternoon –On the glass traya glass..

© William Carlos Williams

Willow Poem

It is a willow when summer is over,a willow by the riverfrom which no leaf has fallen norbitten by the sunturned orange or crimson.The leaves cling..

© William Carlos Williams

Pastoral

The little sparrowshop ingenuouslyabout the pavementquarrelingwith sharp voicesover those thingsthat interest them.But we who are wisershut ourselves..

© William Carlos Williams

Portrait Of A Lady

Your thighs are appletreeswhose blossoms touch the sky.Which sky? The skywhere Watteau hung a lady'sslipper. Your kneesare a southern breeze -- ora..

© William Carlos Williams

Peace On Earth

The Archer is wake!The Swan is flying!Gold against blueAn Arrow is lying.There is hunting in heaven--Sleep safe till tomorrow.The Bears are..

© William Carlos Williams

The Thinker

My wife's new pink slippershave gay pompons.There is not a spot or a stainon their satin toes or their sides.All night they lie togetherunder her..

© William Carlos Williams

Memory Of April

You say love is this, love is that:Poplar tassels, willow tendrilsthe wind and the rain comb,tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip--branches drifting..

© William Carlos Williams

To A Poor Old Woman

munching a plum onthe street a paper bagof them in her handThey taste good to herThey taste goodto her. They tastegood to herYou can see it bythe way..

© William Carlos Williams

Waiting

When I am alone I am happy.The air is cool. The sky isflecked and splashed and woundwith color. The crimson phalloiof the sassafras leaveshang..

© William Carlos Williams

Children's Games

IThis is a schoolyardcrowdedwith childrenof all ages near a villageon a small streammeandering bywhere some boysare swimmingbare-assor climbing a..

© William Carlos Williams

Love Song

I lie here thinking of you:---the stain of loveis upon the world!Yellow, yellow, yellowit eats into the leaves,smears with saffronthe horned branched..

© William Carlos Williams

The Artist

Mr T.bareheadedin a soiled undershirthis hair standing outon all sidesstood on his toesheels togetherarms gracefullyfor the momentcurled above his..

© William Carlos Williams

The Hunter

In the flashes and black shadowsof Julythe days, locked in each other's arms,seem stillso that squirrels and colored birdsgo about at ease overthe..

© William Carlos Williams