• Advertise
  • Submissions
  • Contact
  • Sign In
  • 0 Items ($0.00)
  • Search
  • Home
  • News & Opinion
    • All
    • QED
    • Essential Reading
    • Doomed Planet
    • History Wars
    • Bennelong Papers
  • Arts & Letters
    • Poetry
    • Fiction
    • First Person
  • Authors
    • Keith Windschuttle
    • Roger Franklin
    • John O’Sullivan
    • Anthony Daniels
    • Tim Blair
    • Michael Connor
    • Joe Dolce
    • Hal Colebatch
    • Daryl McCann
    • Peter Smith
    • Zeg
  • Magazine
    • Current Edition
    • 2019
    • 2018
    • Archive
  • Store
  • Subscribe
    • New Subscription
    • Renew Subscription
  • Donate
0 items ($0.00)
Sign In
Menu
  • Home
  • News & Opinion
  • Arts & Letters
  • Authors
  • Magazine
  • Store
  • Subscribe
  • Donate
  • Advertise
  • Submissions
  • Contact
Subscribe Starting at $88.00 a year
Menu
Sign In
0 items ($0.00)
Search
  • Home
  • News & Opinion
  • Arts & Letters
  • Authors
  • Magazine
  • Store
  • Subscribe
  • Donate
  • Advertise
  • Submissions
  • Contact
Subscribe Starting at $88.00 a year
  • Home
  • Magazine
  • Poetry

Poetry

  • All
  • Essential Reading
  • QED
  • Doomed Planet
  • History Wars
  • Bennelong Papers
Poetry

Poems from Lerici: In November

  • Paolo Bertolani/Jennifer Compton
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

It was pleasant to return home at night after a dance or a dinner your head swimming and the eyes on the streetlamps swaddled by midges thick in the mist and the lights of the houses all turned off and the silence then. Paolo Bertolani translated by Massimo Bacigalupo and Jennifer Compton

Read More

Poetry

Update

  • Geoff Page
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

Two years later … no, not quite … everything’s still going well— our friends in Stockholm. still together, find that age can’t break the spell. With magnifying glass at breakfast he starts her sweet, embarrassed smile by reading us a love lyric he’s written in the “modern style”. Geoff Page

Read More

Poetry

Quine’s Pine

  • John Whitworth
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

Quine is the American philosopher Willard Van Quine. It is all explained on the internet. I want a sloop. A flush-decked, ten-gun sloop, One mast, rigged fore-and-aft, is what I most Desire. But slooplessness is now my brother. I am notorious along the coast. In Montserrat they talk of nothing other (In Maracaibo too, and […]

Read More

Poetry

Poems from Lerici: Of a Love

  • Paolo Bertolani/Jennifer Compton
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

It is now winter wherever I look but it’s fine up here, we are in my mother’s small field and it’s dusk. For hours the springtime that you are has been moving around me —all that one can say of a love. You speak to me from the tree you have climbed to gather for […]

Read More

Poetry

Esperanto

  • Geoff Page
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

Surfacing again each Sunday, whether breakfast’s rice or cheese, their parents speak a mother tongue but children use teenagerese, a simple grammar made of grunts, a vocab that contrives to never say exactly what it means except perhaps “as if”, “whatever”. Geoff Page

Read More

Poetry

Poems from Lerici: Minòn

  • Paolo Bertolani/Jennifer Compton
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

Minòn good cat who did not return. When I walk through Montemarcello I see many good-looking cats, but none has your snout and your marmot ways. The roofs that touch the window from which you came in are empty— Minòn good cat, who went off to die, as all cats do, far from home. Paolo […]

Read More

Poetry

“Of all the kings of Portugal”

  • Geoff Page
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

Of all the kings of Portugal we’ve seen the last but one today— well, not quite him but all his rooms, his bathtub and his queen’s bidet. Inside this castle in three styles, each one foretelling Disneyland, his bust preserves a fine moustache— but no one jumps to its command. Geoff Page

Read More

Poetry

Old suburban country gardens

  • Julian Croft
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

They are full of incomplete dreams hedges which have grown too high fallen fences gone to seed dandelion garden tennis courts a mineral not vegetable mangle rusting in peace, its gutta percha roller white hard as the sheets it pressed— somewhere beyond the wild-haired china pears there is the cap of the well backed up […]

Read More

Poetry

Touch-down

  • Geoff Page
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

At festivals, of course, you hear it, this clapping for an absentee— the young director in L.A. already on a higher fee. In aviation, it’s less common. A pilot’s way with physics’ laws in France will earn from passengers a grateful round of stunned applause. Geoff Page

Read More

Poetry

Bush Lemons

  • Barbara Fisher
  • 1st January 2008
icons/chat Created with Sketch. Comments (0)

Once there was a vineyard here in green and ordered rows. Now the bleaching grasses bend and nothing fruitful grows except a self-sown lemon tree with leprous, aching boughs, heavy with the bitter fruit come of a daze of flowers. Strange, ugly and unpromising fruit, a crop of warted noses, nothing you present to view […]

Read More

  • Previous
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • …
  • 166
  • 167
  • 168
  • 169
  • Next

Sign In

Lost your password?

Subscribe

Read Quadrant online or as a printed magazine
Starting at $88.00 a year

Learn more
  • News & Opinion
  • Arts & Letters
  • Authors
  • Magazine
  • Store
  • Advertise
  • Submissions
  • Contact
© 2018 Quadrant Online. Made by Emote