In Effigiem Oliveri Cromwell
Haec est quae toties Inimicos Umbra fugavit,
At sub qua Cives Otia lenta terunt.
In eandem Reginae Sueciae transmissam
Bellipotens Virgo, septem Regina Trionum.
Christina, Arctoi lucida stella Poli;
Cernis quas merui dura sub Casside Rugas;
Sicque Senex Armis impiger Ora fero;
Invia Fatorum dum per Vestigia nitor,
Exequor & Populi fortia Jussa Manu.
At tibi submittit frontem reverentior Umbra,
Nec sunt hi Vultus Regibus usque truces.
poem by Andrew Marvell
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Related quotes
Penumbral Grace
partial shadow
between regions of full shadow
(the umbra)
umba! umba! umba!
umba! umba! umba!
and full illumination,
cast by Earth,
the Moon,
during an eclipse.
caramba! caramba! caramba!
caramba! caramba! caramba!
partial lunar eclipse,
a portion of the Moon's disk
remaining within the
penumbra of Earth's shadow
the rest is darkened
by the umbra
grayish outer part
a sunspot.
Compare
umbra! umbra! umbra!
umbra! umbra! umbra!
umbra! umbra! umbra!
umbra! umbra! umbra!
shower me the grace
of your Umbra Oh Lord!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Letter To Doctor Ingelo, then With My Lord Whitlock, Ambassador From The Protector To The Queen Of Sweden
Quid facis Arctoi charissime transfuga coeli,
Ingele, proh sero cognite, rapte cito?
Num satis Hybernum defendis pellibus Astrum,
Qui modo tam mollis nec bene firmus eras?
Quae Gentes Hominum, quae sit Natura Locorum,
Sint Homines, potius dic ibi sintre Loca?
Num gravis horrisono Polus obruit omnia lapsu,
Jungitur & praeceps Mundas utraque nive?
An melius canis horrescit Campus Aristis,
Amuius Agricolis & redit Orbe labor?
Incolit, ut fertur, saevam Gens mitior Oram,
Pace vigil, Bello strenua, justa Foro.
Quin ibi sunt Urbes, atque alta Palatia Regum,
Musarumque domus, & sua Templa Deo.
Nam regit Imperio populum Christina ferocem,
Et dare jura potest regia Virgo viris.
Utque trahit rigidum Magnes Aquilone Metallum,
Gandet eam Soboles ferrea sponte sequii.
Dic quantum liceat fallaci credere Famae,
Invida num taceat plura, sonet ve loquax.
At, si vera fides, Mundi melioris ab ortu,
Saecula Christinae nulla tulere parem.
Ipsa licet redeat (nostri decus orbis) Eliza,
Qualis nostra tamen quantaque Eliza fuit.
Vidimus Effigiem, mistasque Coloribus Umbras:
Sic quoque Sceptripotens, sic quoque visa Dea.
Augustam decorant (raro concordia) frontem
Majestas & Amor, Forma Pudorque simul.
Ingens Virgineo spirat Gustavus in ore:
Agnoscas animos, fulmineumque Patrem.
Nulla suo nituit tam lucida Stella sub Axe;
Non Ea quae meruit Crimine Nympha Polum.
Ah quoties pavidum demisit conscia Lumen,
Utque suae timuit Parrhasis Ora Deae!
Et, simulet falsa ni Pictor imagine Vultus,
Delia tam similis nec fuit ipsa sibi.
Ni quod inornati Triviae sint forte Capilli,
Sollicita sed buic distribuantur Acu.
Scilicet ut nemo est illa reverentior aequi;
Haud ipsas igitur fert sine Lege Comas.
Gloria sylvarum pariter communis utrique
Est, & perpetuae Virginitatis Honos.
Sic quoque Nympharum supereminet Agmina collo,
Fertque Choros Cynthi per Juga, per Nives.
Haud aliter pariles Ciliorum contrahit Arcus
Acribus ast Oculis tela subesse putes.
Luminibus dubites an straverit illa Sagittis
Quae foret exuviis ardua colla Feram.
Alcides humeros coopertus pelle Nemaea
Haud ita labentis sustulit Orbis Onus.
Heu quae Cervices subnectunt Pectora tales.
Frigidiora Gelu, candidiora Nive.
Caetera non licuit, sed vix ea tota, videre;
Nam chau fi rigido stant Adamante Sinus.
Seu chlamys Artifici nimium succurrerit auso,
Sicque imperfectum fugerit impar Opus:
Sive tribus spernat Victrix certare Deabus,
Et pretium formae nec spoliata ferat.
Junonis properans & clara Trophaea Minervae;
Mollia nam Veneris praemia nosse piget.
Hinc neque consuluit fugitivae prodiga Formae,
Nectimuit seris invigilasse Libris.
Insommem quoties Nymphae monuere sequaces
Decedet roseis heu color ille Genis.
Jamque vigil leni cessit Philomela sopori,
Omnibus & Sylvis conticuere Ferae.
Acrior illa tamen pergit, Curasque fatigat:
Tanti est doctorum volvere scripta Virum.
Et liciti quae sint moderamina discere Regni,
Quid fuerit, quid sit, noscere quicquid erit.
Sic quod in ingenuas Gothus peccaverit Artes
Vindicat, & studiis expiat Una suis.
Exemplum dociles imitantur nobile Gentes,
Et geminis Infans imbuit Ora sonis.
Transpositos Suecis credas migrasse Latinos,
Carmine Romuleo sic strepit omne Nemus.
Upsala nec priscis impar memoratur Athenis,
Aegidaque & Currus hic sua Pallas habet.
Illinc O quales liceat sperasse Liquores,
Quum Dea praesideat fontibus ipsa sacris!
Illic Lacte ruant illic & flumina Melle,
Fulvaque inauratam tingat Arena Salam.
Upsalides Musae nunc & majora conemus,
Quaeque mihi Famae non levis Aura tulit.
Creditur haud ulli Christus signasse suorum
Occultam gemina de meliore Notam.
Quemque tenet charo descriptum Nomine semper,
Non minus exculptum Pectore fida refert.
Sola haec virgineas depascit Flamma Medullas,
Et licito pergit solvere corda foco.
Tu quoque Sanctorum fastos Christina sacrabis,
Unica nec Virgo Volsiniensis erit.
Discite nunc Reges (Majestas proxima coelo)
Discite proh magnos hinc coluisse Deos.
Ah pudeat Tanitos puerilia fingere coepta,
Nugas nescio quas, & male quaerere Opes.
Acer Equo cunctos dum praeterit illa Britanno,
Et pecoris spolium nescit inerme sequi.
Ast Aquilam poscit Germano pellere Nido,
Deque Palatino Monte fugare Lupam.
Vos etiam latos in praedam jungite Campos,
Impiaque arctatis cingite Lustra Plagis.
Victor Oliverus nudum Caput exerit Armis,
Ducere sive sequi nobile laetus Iter.
Qualis jam Senior Solymae Godfredus ad Arces,
Spina cui canis floruit alba comis.
Et lappos Christina potest & solvere Finnos,
Ultima quos Boreae carcere Claustra premunt.
Aeoliis quales Venti fremuere sub antris,
Et tentant Montis corripuisse moras.
Hanc Dea si summa demiserit Arce procellam
Quam gravis Austriacis Hesperiisque cadat!
Omnia sed rediens olim narraveris Ipse;
Nec reditus spero tempora longa petit.
Non ibi lenta pigro stringuntur frigore Verba,
Solibus, & tandem Vere liquanda novo.
Sed radiis hyemem Regina potentior urit;
Haecque magis solvit, quam ligat illa Polum.
Dicitur & nostros moerens andisse Labores,
Fortis & ingenuam Gentis amasse Fidem.
Oblatae Batavam nec paci commodat Aurem;
Nec versat Danos insidiosa dolos.
Sed pia festinat mutatis Foedera rebus,
Et Libertatem quae dominatur amat.
Digna cui Salomon meritos retulisset honores,
Et Saba concretum Thure cremasset Iter.
Hanc tua, sed melius, celebraverit, Ingele, Musa;
Et labor est vestrae debitus ille Lyrae.
Nos sine te frustra Thamisis saliceta subimus,
Sparsaque per steriles Turba vagamur Agros.
Et male tentanti querulum respondet Avena:
Quin & Rogerio dissiluere fides.
Haec tamen absenti memores dictamus Amico,
Grataque speramus qualiacumque fore.
poem by Andrew Marvell
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Hortus
Quisnam adeo, mortale genus, praecordia versat:
Heu Palmae, Laurique furor, vel simplicis Herbae!
Arbor ut indomitos ornet vix una labores;
Tempora nec foliis praecingat tota maglignis.
Dum simud implexi, tranquillae ad ferta Quiaetis,
Omnigeni coeunt Flores, integraque Sylva.
Alma Quies, teneo te! & te Germana Quietis
Simplicitas! Vos ergo diu per Templa, per urbes,
Quaesivi, Regum perque alta Palatia frustra.
Sed vos Hotrorum per opaca siluentia longe
Celarant Plantae virides, & concolor Umbra.
O! mibi si vestros liceat violasse recessus.
Erranti, lasso, & vitae melioris anhelo,
Municipem servate novum, votoque potitum,
Frondosae Cives optate in florea Regna.
Me quoque, vos Musae, &, te conscie testor Apollo,
Non Armenta juvant hominum, Circique boatus,
Mugitusve Fori; sed me Penetralia veris,
Horroresque trahunt muti, & Consortia sola.
Virgineae quem non suspendit Gratia formae?
Quam candore Nives vincentum, Ostrumque rubore,
Vestra tamen viridis superet (me judice) Virtus.
Nec foliis certare Comae, nec Brachia ramis,
Nec possint tremulos voces aequare susurros.
Ah quoties saevos vidi (quis credat?) Amantes
Sculpentes Dominae potiori in cortice nomen?
Nec puduit truncis inscribere vulnera sacris.
Ast Ego, si vestras unquam temeravero stirpes,
Nulla Neaera, Chloe, Faustina, Corynna, legetur:
In proprio sed quaeque libro signabitur Arbos.
O charae Platanus, Cyparissus, Populus, Ulnus!
Hic Amor, exutis crepidatus inambulat alis,
Enerves arcus & stridula tela reponens,
Invertitque faces, nec se cupit usque timeri;
Aut experrectus jacet, indormitque pharetrae;
Non auditurus quanquam Cytherea vocarit;
Nequitias referuut nec somnia vana priores.
Laetantur Superi, defervescente Tyranno,
Et licet experti toties Nymphasque Deasque,
Arbore nunc melius potiuntur quisque cupita.
Jupiter annosam, neglecta conjuge, Quercum
Deperit; baud alia doluit sic pellice. Juno.
Lemniacum temerant vestigia nulla Cubile,
Nic Veneris Mavors meminit si Fraxinus adsit.
Formosae pressit Daphnes vestigia Phaebus
Ut fieret Laurus; sed nil quaesiverat ultra.
Capripes & peteret quod Pan Syringa fugacem,
Hoc erat ut Calamum posset reperire Sonorum.
Note: Desunt multa. Nec tu, Opisex horti, grato sine carmine abibis:
Qui brevibus plantis, & laeto flore, notasti
Crescentes horas, atque intervalla diei.
Sol ibi candidior fragrantia Signa pererrat;
Proque truci Tauro, stricto pro forcipe Cancri,
Securis violaeque rosaeque allabitur umbris.
Sedula quin & Apis, mellito intenta labori,
Horologo sua pensa thymo Signare videtur.
Temporis O suaves lapsus! O Otia sana!
O Herbis dignae numerari & Floribus Horae!
poem by Andrew Marvell
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Aliter
Regibus haec posuit Ludovicus Templa futuris;
Gratior ast ipsi Castra fuere Domus.
poem by Andrew Marvell
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The deeper the abyss, the more brilliant is the pearl.
Dan Costinaş in The Shadow of the Sea (Umbra mării) (2012)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Sea: Concerto for harpsichord and sand particles.
Dan Costinaş in The Shadow of the Sea (Umbra mării) (2012)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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There is no good poetry and bad poetry, it's just a matter of perception: some lines match more minds and souls, others less.
Dan Costinaş in The Shadow of the Sea (Umbra mării) (2011)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Pentru Nimeni (nu citi)
Am asteptat destul, sa te intorci.
E timpul, poate, sa merg si eu mai departe,
si sa pun mana pe visele ce le visez
in lipsa ta,
pentru ca nu pot sa raman o biata umbra.
Sunt pana la urma,
creatia ta monstruasa si dementa.
E un secret,
dar eu inca te iubesc,
si a fost o prostie sa ma intrebi daca am fost vreodata fericit cu tine, pentru ca nu am fost niciodata mai fericit ca atunci cand iti juram iubire, si mi-as fi dat viata pentru tine.
Inca nu am suficienta ura, pentru a simti altceva.
Ai reusit insa sa ma faci sa-l urasc pe dumnezeu mai mult ca niciodata,
cu toate ca nu cred ca ar putea exista,
dar am nevoie de ura,
ca sa pot supravietui fara iubire.
poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
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To Love
If, Cupid, Heaven is your home, you
are the child of Venus, Nectar and
Ambrosia are your food, then why
do you spend days and nights with
me? Why burn me with your flame,
and quench my thirst with tears?
Why destroy me? You are indeed
descended from wild beasts. Are you
worthy of such descent and of
heaven? But I, I am merely
a shadow, why do you torture me?
Ad amorem.
Si coelum patria est puer beatum,
Si vero peperit VENUS benigna,
Si Nectar tibi Massicum ministrat;
Si sancta Ambrosia est cibus petitus,
Quid noctes habitas, diesque mecum?
Quid victum face supplicemque aduris?
Quid longam lachrimis sitim repellis?
Quid nostrae dape pasceris medullae?
O vere rabidum genus faerarum:
O domo stipe patriaque digne:
Jam levis sumus umbra, quid lacessis?
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Portii Licinii
PORTII LICINII.
Si Phoebi soror es, mando tibi, Delia, causam,
Scilicet, ut fratri quae peto verba feras:
Marmore Sicanio struxi tibi, Delphice, templum,
Et levibus calamis candida verba dedi.
Nunc, si nos audis, atque es divinus Apollo,
Dic mihi, qui nummos non habet unde petat.
ENGLISHED.
If you are Phoebus sister, Delia, pray,
This my request unto the Sun convay:
O Delphick god, I built thy marble fane,
And sung thy praises with a gentle cane,
Now, if thou art divine Apollo, tell,
Where he, whose purse is empty, may go fill.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Thirst for God
When in penury
Man hunts for wealth.
He is then ever in thirst
And in quenching it he gets crazy.
In the process of amassing wealth
He loses his health.
And to his spiritual psyche
There strikes an injury.
If his thirst is channelized towards God
He comes under the umbra of His Mercy.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Senecae Ex Cleanthe
SENECAE EX CLEANTHE.
Duc me, Parens celsique Dominator poli,
Quocunque placuit, nulla parendi mora est;
Adsum impiger; fac nolle, comitabor gemens,
Malusque patiar facere, quod licuit bono.
Ducunt volentem Fata, nolentem trahunt.
ENGLISHED.
Parent and Prince of Heav'n, O lead, I pray,
Where ere you please, I follow and obey.
Active I go, sighing, if you gainsay,
And suffer bad what to the good was law.
Fates lead the willing, but unwilling draw.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Sestina Otiosa
Our great work, the Otia Merseiana,
Edited by learned Mister Sampson,
And supported by Professor Woodward,
Is financed by numerous Bogus Meetings
Hastily convened by Kuno Meyer
To impose upon the Man of Business.
All in vain! The accomplished Man of Business
Disapproves of Otia Merseiana,
Turns his back on Doctor Kuno Meyer;
Cannot be enticed by Mister Sampson,
To be present at the Bogus Meetings,
Though attended by Professor Woodward.
Little cares the staid Professor Woodward:
He, being something of a man of business,
Knows that not a hundred Bogus Meetings
To discuss the Otia Merseiana
Can involve himself and Mister Sampson
In the debts of Doctor Kuno Meyer.
So the poor deluded Kuno Meyer,
Unenlightened by Professor Woodward --
Whom, upon the word of Mister Sampson,
He believes to be a man of business
Fit to run the Otia Merseiana --
Keeps on calling endless Bogus Meetings.
Every week has now its Bogus Meetings,
Punctually convened by Kuno Meyer
In the name of Otia Merseiana:
Every other week Professor Woodward
Takes his place, and, as a man of business,
Audits the accounts with Mister Sampson.
He and impecunious Mister Sampson
Are the mainstay of the Bogus Meetings;
But the alienated Man of Business
Cannot be allured by Kuno Meyer
To attend and meet Professor Woodward,
Glory of the Otia Merseiana.
Kuno Meyer! Great Professor Woodward!
Bogus Meetings damn, for men of business,
Mister Sampson's Otia Merseiana.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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Wallflower
I see her alone in far distant breeze;
as umbra despair her, which does not please.
I looked into her eyes, and felt emptiness still-
a little bit of hope as she falls ill.
It is sadness which draws me to her;
the feelings of lost and fear as it were.
She hides that tear so no one to see
what lies within her, the feeling of free.
She appears translucent in a crowd of many;
she is to us but a lowly memory.
She longs for that which I cannot give;
a feeling of love, a reason to live.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Spare Manu
Manu Sastre, the moral code, laid down By Manu, though outdated by time gone,
Still stands worthy of many codes drawn
And is not wise to be thrown out outrightly.
Each set of codes is set to govern a sect
Conditioned by life of the coder’s time,
With no right bequeathed to latter sects
To condemn the coder for the codes set.
The theory propounded by the scientists
Are being replaced by the successors
Without any attack on the former. Mind.
Spare Manu
27.06.2004
[Manu has written a moral code for Hindus more than thousand years back, some of which are controversially objected now}
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mart. Ep. XV. Lib. 6.
MART. EP. XV. LIB. 6.
Dum Phaetontea formica vagatur in umbra,
Implicuit tenuem succina gutta feram,
Dignum tantorum pretium tulit illa laborum:
Credibile est ipsam sic voluisse mori.
ENGLISHED.
Whilst in an amber-shade the ant doth feast,
A gummy drop ensnares the small wild-beast,
A full reward of all her toyls hath she;
'Tis to be thought she would her self so die.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Cuvinte
Sunt doar un baietel slabanog, ce inca se gandeste la fata ce l-a facut sa planga.
Imi amintesc cum atunci, in mintea ta ma aparai de cuvintele jignitoare
ale celor ce ti-au ramas prieteni,
acum cand eu nu-ti mai sunt.
Pana la urma, cred ca aveau dreptate
ca sunt prea urat pentru tine,
dar nu a fost doar atat
sunt mult mai multe lucruri
ce te fac sa te indoiesti, de iubirea mea
care infinita cat era ea
a venit prea tarziu in viata ta.
Ma indoiesc ca as fi putut face ceva mai mult pentru noi doi.
Eu nu am aur, asa cum au altii
si nu pot sa te fac regina.
In mintea mea esti doar o biata eroina, o corabie ce paraseste grabita
insula pe care a naufragiat in urma cu aproape sapte luni
intr-o noapte, cand era prea intuneric pentru stele
si de frica, te-ai lasat pacalita de sarutul meu sfios.
Eu am ramas aici, oare nu ma vezi?
Si de ce a trebuit sa-l iei si pe Vineri cu tine, nu am si eu dreptul la un prieten?
Am inceput sa scriu din ce in ce mai mult,
pentru ca am multe lucruri sa-ti spun,
dar nu o fac pentru tine, nu-ti face grija
o fac pentru mine, pentru ca vreau sa te ingrop
sub miliarde de cuvinte
si sa ma ingrop si eu, odata cu tine,
intr-o lume unde si eu sunt eroul tau, iar tu, ei bine sper ca macar acolo, in lumea mea sa ma iubesti, daca aici nu mai poti.
poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
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Paradoxical Alikes
Blazing red
Ascetic saffron
Appeal to me
In same tone
Radical cannons
Vedic canons
Sound to me
In same tune
Rishi Marx
Rebel Manu
Seem to me
Right addresses
Take my route
Learn the truth
(Manu was a great exponent of Vedas. He wrote Manu Smrithi
a codified Hindu law based on Vedic tenets)
BY sathya narayana
dt: 11-11-2008
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Love Sonnet 51 How soon could Spring ever blossom again?
How soon could Spring ever blossom again?
This world now riles at bleak colors of gray,
Where could rainbows and fairy tales have lain,
Or where will this stranger's horses find hay?
For gates of dreams have shut and doubly sealed,
Gardens wilted, with not a scent to trace,
In no temple an oracle revealed,
The moon concealed by umbra on its face;
Only angel sent from above is hope,
To guide me by the hand through all the mist,
To one drowning, someone who throws the rope,
Of my confused story, tells me the gist;
......But how to tell appearances of things,
......Try as I may, they all came in clipped wings.
.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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When the Bough Breaks
Morris Chestnut, Regina Hall, Theo Rossi, Jaz Sinclair, Glenn Morshower, Sue-Lynn Ansari, Christina Bach
by Jack Olsen from When the Bough Breaks (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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