Joc Secund de Ion Barbu

Din ceas, dedus, adâncul acestei calme creste, Intrata prin oglinda in mântuit azur, Taind pe inecarea cirezilor agreste In grupurile apei un joc secund, mai pur. Nadir latent! Poetul ridica insumarea De harfe resfirate ce-n zbor invers le pierzi, Si cântec istoveste: ascuns, cum numai marea Meduzele când plimba sub clopotele verzi.

From time, deduced, the depth of this calm grows, Entered through the mirror in azure salvation, Cutting on the drowning of rustic herds In the water groups, a second, purer game. Latent nadir! The poet raises the summation Of shriveled harps that you lose in reverse flight, And finishes the song: hidden, like only the sea Jellyfish when walking under the green bells.

Trees by Joyce Kilmer

TREES (For Mrs. Henry Mills Alden) I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.
Song of the Open Road by Ogden Nash I think that I shall never see A billboard lovely as a tree Indeed, unless the billboards fall I'll never see a tree at all.
"Chee$e" by Thomas Merton I think that we should never freeze Such lively assets as our cheese. The sucker's hungry mouth is pressed Against the cheese's caraway breast. ... Poems are nought but warmed-up breeze. DOLLARS are made by Trappist Cheese.