@columbiagrangers.bsky.social
The Columbia Granger’s World of Poetry contains 250,000 poems in full text plus bios commentary and criticism and glossary.
Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore
My love was infinite, if spring make' it more.
John Donne the romantic! He was born on this day in 1572. From his poem "Love's Growth."
My love was infinite, if spring make' it more.
John Donne the romantic! He was born on this day in 1572. From his poem "Love's Growth."
January 22, 2026 at 8:09 PM
Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore
My love was infinite, if spring make' it more.
John Donne the romantic! He was born on this day in 1572. From his poem "Love's Growth."
My love was infinite, if spring make' it more.
John Donne the romantic! He was born on this day in 1572. From his poem "Love's Growth."
“Thou barrein ground, whome winters wrath hath wasted,
Art made a myrrhour to behold my plight . . .
from "January" by Edmund Spenser, who died on this day in 1599 (alas the while!)
Art made a myrrhour to behold my plight . . .
from "January" by Edmund Spenser, who died on this day in 1599 (alas the while!)
January 13, 2026 at 8:04 PM
“Thou barrein ground, whome winters wrath hath wasted,
Art made a myrrhour to behold my plight . . .
from "January" by Edmund Spenser, who died on this day in 1599 (alas the while!)
Art made a myrrhour to behold my plight . . .
from "January" by Edmund Spenser, who died on this day in 1599 (alas the while!)
After the murder, I called a meeting
to see if we were happy. I declared
I was not — I said I liked the man
we shot. You all disagreed with this.
--from "Gold" by Matthew Sweeney who was born today in 1952.
to see if we were happy. I declared
I was not — I said I liked the man
we shot. You all disagreed with this.
--from "Gold" by Matthew Sweeney who was born today in 1952.
October 6, 2025 at 5:42 PM
After the murder, I called a meeting
to see if we were happy. I declared
I was not — I said I liked the man
we shot. You all disagreed with this.
--from "Gold" by Matthew Sweeney who was born today in 1952.
to see if we were happy. I declared
I was not — I said I liked the man
we shot. You all disagreed with this.
--from "Gold" by Matthew Sweeney who was born today in 1952.
I am the falcon of the spirit world,
Escaped out of highest heaven
Who out of desire of the hunt,
Am fallen into earthly form
"The Soul," by Rumi, #BOTD, and translated by Emerson. Happy International Translation Day.
Escaped out of highest heaven
Who out of desire of the hunt,
Am fallen into earthly form
"The Soul," by Rumi, #BOTD, and translated by Emerson. Happy International Translation Day.
September 30, 2025 at 6:41 PM
I am the falcon of the spirit world,
Escaped out of highest heaven
Who out of desire of the hunt,
Am fallen into earthly form
"The Soul," by Rumi, #BOTD, and translated by Emerson. Happy International Translation Day.
Escaped out of highest heaven
Who out of desire of the hunt,
Am fallen into earthly form
"The Soul," by Rumi, #BOTD, and translated by Emerson. Happy International Translation Day.
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
--TS Eliot, #BOTD in 1888. From Ash Wednesday.
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
--TS Eliot, #BOTD in 1888. From Ash Wednesday.
September 26, 2025 at 4:50 PM
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
--TS Eliot, #BOTD in 1888. From Ash Wednesday.
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
--TS Eliot, #BOTD in 1888. From Ash Wednesday.
Congratulations Arthur Sze, our 25th Poet Laureate!
As he says about violinists in "Architect's Watercolor", his poems
launch fireworks
of sound that arc, explode, dissolve
into threads of melodic charm.
As he says about violinists in "Architect's Watercolor", his poems
launch fireworks
of sound that arc, explode, dissolve
into threads of melodic charm.
September 16, 2025 at 6:24 PM
Congratulations Arthur Sze, our 25th Poet Laureate!
As he says about violinists in "Architect's Watercolor", his poems
launch fireworks
of sound that arc, explode, dissolve
into threads of melodic charm.
As he says about violinists in "Architect's Watercolor", his poems
launch fireworks
of sound that arc, explode, dissolve
into threads of melodic charm.
It's International Cloud Day, so here's a poem, by Hosokawa Yusai:
Rising high
among distant islands—
pinnacles of cloud.
Rising high
among distant islands—
pinnacles of cloud.
September 12, 2025 at 8:05 PM
It's International Cloud Day, so here's a poem, by Hosokawa Yusai:
Rising high
among distant islands—
pinnacles of cloud.
Rising high
among distant islands—
pinnacles of cloud.
the aged person
wanting to become a tree
embraces a tree
--"The aged person" by MItsuhashi Takajo, for #WomeninTranslationMonth. Translated by Makota Ueda.
wanting to become a tree
embraces a tree
--"The aged person" by MItsuhashi Takajo, for #WomeninTranslationMonth. Translated by Makota Ueda.
www.columbia.grangers.org
August 6, 2025 at 7:40 PM
the aged person
wanting to become a tree
embraces a tree
--"The aged person" by MItsuhashi Takajo, for #WomeninTranslationMonth. Translated by Makota Ueda.
wanting to become a tree
embraces a tree
--"The aged person" by MItsuhashi Takajo, for #WomeninTranslationMonth. Translated by Makota Ueda.
God and the gods have moved
outside the jeweled air
and sun motes …
to where a star is:
an amethyst minus a poet.
--From "Sheets" by Fanny Howe, who died on July 9. We will miss her!
outside the jeweled air
and sun motes …
to where a star is:
an amethyst minus a poet.
--From "Sheets" by Fanny Howe, who died on July 9. We will miss her!
July 11, 2025 at 6:04 PM
God and the gods have moved
outside the jeweled air
and sun motes …
to where a star is:
an amethyst minus a poet.
--From "Sheets" by Fanny Howe, who died on July 9. We will miss her!
outside the jeweled air
and sun motes …
to where a star is:
an amethyst minus a poet.
--From "Sheets" by Fanny Howe, who died on July 9. We will miss her!
Oh! it is sad! And you, have you not found
One heart-throb for the pity, though your eye
Lights at the gold and purple butterfly
Brightening the littered leaves upon the ground?
-- Paul Verlaine, whose marriage ended with his affair with Arthur Rimbaud. #Pride25 #PrideMonth
One heart-throb for the pity, though your eye
Lights at the gold and purple butterfly
Brightening the littered leaves upon the ground?
-- Paul Verlaine, whose marriage ended with his affair with Arthur Rimbaud. #Pride25 #PrideMonth
June 26, 2025 at 4:35 PM
Oh! it is sad! And you, have you not found
One heart-throb for the pity, though your eye
Lights at the gold and purple butterfly
Brightening the littered leaves upon the ground?
-- Paul Verlaine, whose marriage ended with his affair with Arthur Rimbaud. #Pride25 #PrideMonth
One heart-throb for the pity, though your eye
Lights at the gold and purple butterfly
Brightening the littered leaves upon the ground?
-- Paul Verlaine, whose marriage ended with his affair with Arthur Rimbaud. #Pride25 #PrideMonth
Being out of heart with government
I took a broken root to fling
Where the proud, wayward squirrel went
--From "An Appointment" by WB Yeats, #BOTD. It was the first poem he wrote about public events -- about his disgust over the appointment of curator of Dublin's National Museum
I took a broken root to fling
Where the proud, wayward squirrel went
--From "An Appointment" by WB Yeats, #BOTD. It was the first poem he wrote about public events -- about his disgust over the appointment of curator of Dublin's National Museum
June 13, 2025 at 5:46 PM
Being out of heart with government
I took a broken root to fling
Where the proud, wayward squirrel went
--From "An Appointment" by WB Yeats, #BOTD. It was the first poem he wrote about public events -- about his disgust over the appointment of curator of Dublin's National Museum
I took a broken root to fling
Where the proud, wayward squirrel went
--From "An Appointment" by WB Yeats, #BOTD. It was the first poem he wrote about public events -- about his disgust over the appointment of curator of Dublin's National Museum
I chant the chant of dilation or pride . . . .
Prodigal, you have given me love—therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable passionate love.
--Walt Whitman for #PrideMonth #Pride25.
Prodigal, you have given me love—therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable passionate love.
--Walt Whitman for #PrideMonth #Pride25.
June 12, 2025 at 4:55 PM
I chant the chant of dilation or pride . . . .
Prodigal, you have given me love—therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable passionate love.
--Walt Whitman for #PrideMonth #Pride25.
Prodigal, you have given me love—therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable passionate love.
--Walt Whitman for #PrideMonth #Pride25.
I go out into the street naked
ripe with poems
lost.
--Federico Garcia Lorca, #BOTD in 1898. From "Hour of Stars." #PrideMonth #Pride25
ripe with poems
lost.
--Federico Garcia Lorca, #BOTD in 1898. From "Hour of Stars." #PrideMonth #Pride25
June 5, 2025 at 4:15 PM
I go out into the street naked
ripe with poems
lost.
--Federico Garcia Lorca, #BOTD in 1898. From "Hour of Stars." #PrideMonth #Pride25
ripe with poems
lost.
--Federico Garcia Lorca, #BOTD in 1898. From "Hour of Stars." #PrideMonth #Pride25
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour.
Which way does your beard point tonight?
-- Allen Ginsberg, #BOTD in 1926. From "A Supermarket in California." #PrideMonth #Pride25
Which way does your beard point tonight?
-- Allen Ginsberg, #BOTD in 1926. From "A Supermarket in California." #PrideMonth #Pride25
June 3, 2025 at 6:00 PM
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour.
Which way does your beard point tonight?
-- Allen Ginsberg, #BOTD in 1926. From "A Supermarket in California." #PrideMonth #Pride25
Which way does your beard point tonight?
-- Allen Ginsberg, #BOTD in 1926. From "A Supermarket in California." #PrideMonth #Pride25
For poetry of place: its weathered face
Formed a convenient sheet whereon
The visions of his mind were drawn.
--Thomas Hardy, born on this day in 1840. From "After a Romantic Day."
Formed a convenient sheet whereon
The visions of his mind were drawn.
--Thomas Hardy, born on this day in 1840. From "After a Romantic Day."
June 2, 2025 at 3:23 PM
For poetry of place: its weathered face
Formed a convenient sheet whereon
The visions of his mind were drawn.
--Thomas Hardy, born on this day in 1840. From "After a Romantic Day."
Formed a convenient sheet whereon
The visions of his mind were drawn.
--Thomas Hardy, born on this day in 1840. From "After a Romantic Day."
at the bent spray's edge--
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
-- From "Home-Thoughts from Abroad," by Robert Browning, #BOTD in 1812.
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
-- From "Home-Thoughts from Abroad," by Robert Browning, #BOTD in 1812.
May 7, 2025 at 6:00 PM
at the bent spray's edge--
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
-- From "Home-Thoughts from Abroad," by Robert Browning, #BOTD in 1812.
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
-- From "Home-Thoughts from Abroad," by Robert Browning, #BOTD in 1812.
We don't remember our birth,
when a mother dies, it's gone.
From "Homecoming" by Victoria Chang, for #AsianAmericanHeritageMonth
when a mother dies, it's gone.
From "Homecoming" by Victoria Chang, for #AsianAmericanHeritageMonth
May 1, 2025 at 6:49 PM
We don't remember our birth,
when a mother dies, it's gone.
From "Homecoming" by Victoria Chang, for #AsianAmericanHeritageMonth
when a mother dies, it's gone.
From "Homecoming" by Victoria Chang, for #AsianAmericanHeritageMonth
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
It's Shakespeare's birthday! These lines are from his sonnet "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day. www.columbiagrangers.org
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
It's Shakespeare's birthday! These lines are from his sonnet "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day. www.columbiagrangers.org
April 23, 2025 at 6:56 PM
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
It's Shakespeare's birthday! These lines are from his sonnet "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day. www.columbiagrangers.org
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
It's Shakespeare's birthday! These lines are from his sonnet "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day. www.columbiagrangers.org
When April with his showers sweet with fruit
The drought of March has pierced unto the root
And bathed each vein with liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower
--Chaucer. #OTD in 1397, told the Canterbury Tales for the first time to Richard II. www.columbiagrangers.org
The drought of March has pierced unto the root
And bathed each vein with liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower
--Chaucer. #OTD in 1397, told the Canterbury Tales for the first time to Richard II. www.columbiagrangers.org
The Columbia Granger's World of Poetry : Columbia Grangers
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www.columbiagrangers.org
April 17, 2025 at 2:54 PM
When April with his showers sweet with fruit
The drought of March has pierced unto the root
And bathed each vein with liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower
--Chaucer. #OTD in 1397, told the Canterbury Tales for the first time to Richard II. www.columbiagrangers.org
The drought of March has pierced unto the root
And bathed each vein with liquor that has power
To generate therein and sire the flower
--Chaucer. #OTD in 1397, told the Canterbury Tales for the first time to Richard II. www.columbiagrangers.org
Thy wealth can shed no tears around thy bier,
Nor can it wash thy hands of shame and fear
--from "The Luzumiyat" by the great Arab poet Abu 'l-Ala al-Ma'Arri, trans. by Ameen Rihani, for Arab American Heritage Month. www.columbiagrangers.org @columbiaup.bsky.social
Nor can it wash thy hands of shame and fear
--from "The Luzumiyat" by the great Arab poet Abu 'l-Ala al-Ma'Arri, trans. by Ameen Rihani, for Arab American Heritage Month. www.columbiagrangers.org @columbiaup.bsky.social
The Columbia Granger's World of Poetry : Columbia Grangers
description goes here
www.columbiagrangers.org
April 16, 2025 at 6:02 PM
Thy wealth can shed no tears around thy bier,
Nor can it wash thy hands of shame and fear
--from "The Luzumiyat" by the great Arab poet Abu 'l-Ala al-Ma'Arri, trans. by Ameen Rihani, for Arab American Heritage Month. www.columbiagrangers.org @columbiaup.bsky.social
Nor can it wash thy hands of shame and fear
--from "The Luzumiyat" by the great Arab poet Abu 'l-Ala al-Ma'Arri, trans. by Ameen Rihani, for Arab American Heritage Month. www.columbiagrangers.org @columbiaup.bsky.social
They wouldn’t be coming back any more,
The huge shade trees where they used
To gather, every last branch and leaf sagging
Under the bright freight of their wings.
--From "Monarchs, Viceroys, Swallowtails" by Robert Hedin for Earth Month. www.columbiagrangers.org @columbiaup.bsky.social
The huge shade trees where they used
To gather, every last branch and leaf sagging
Under the bright freight of their wings.
--From "Monarchs, Viceroys, Swallowtails" by Robert Hedin for Earth Month. www.columbiagrangers.org @columbiaup.bsky.social
The Columbia Granger's World of Poetry : Columbia Grangers
description goes here
www.columbiagrangers.org
April 15, 2025 at 4:03 PM
They wouldn’t be coming back any more,
The huge shade trees where they used
To gather, every last branch and leaf sagging
Under the bright freight of their wings.
--From "Monarchs, Viceroys, Swallowtails" by Robert Hedin for Earth Month. www.columbiagrangers.org @columbiaup.bsky.social
The huge shade trees where they used
To gather, every last branch and leaf sagging
Under the bright freight of their wings.
--From "Monarchs, Viceroys, Swallowtails" by Robert Hedin for Earth Month. www.columbiagrangers.org @columbiaup.bsky.social