Weekly Contest
Classic poem of the day
What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker meant not should be trod
By man, the image of his God,
Erect and free,
Unscourged by Superstition's rod
To bow the knee?
That's hallowed ground where, mourned and missed,
The lips repose our love has kissed;--
But where's their memory's mansion? Is't
Yon churchyard's bowers?
No! in ourselves their souls exist,
A part of ours.
A kiss can consecrate the ground
Where mated hearts are mutual bound:
The spot where love's first links were wound,
That ne'er are riven,
Is hallowed down to earth's profound,
And up to heaven!
For time makes all but true love old;
The burning thoughts that then were told
Run molten still in memory's mould;
And will not cool
Until the heart itself be cold
In Lethe's pool.
What hallows ground where heroes sleep?
'Tis not the sculptured piles you heap!...
member poem of the day
Spring Dawn
Meng Haoran (689/691–740)
Asleep in spring, unconscious of the dawn,
The chirp chirp song of birds is everywhere.
Last night the thunder, wind, and rain came long—
How many blossoms now remain out there?
| Chinese 春曉 孟 浩 然 春眠不覺曉 處處聞啼鳥 夜來風雨聲 花落知多少 | Pronunciation Chūn Xiǎo Mèng Hàorán Chūn mián bù jué xiǎo Chǔ chǔ wén tí niǎo Yè lái fēng yǔ shēng Huā luò zhī duō shǎo |
Transliteration and Notes
Spring Dawn
Spring sleep not wake dawn
Place place hear chirp birds
Night came wind rain sound...
