Şiir, Sadece

Ey şair!  Önemseme halkın sevgisini o kadar,  Tez geçer coşkun övgülerin uğultusu;  Duyarsan, yargısını bir budalanın,  Ya da kahkah...

İster sevgili, ister dost olsun, Ayrılmak saati gelip çattı mı, sakın gizleme; Sen omuzdan kesilmiş bir çaresiz kolsun. Eskiye de boş ver o...

Ragtime uyku yok uyumak uyumak uyumak uyku akıp gitti uyku mavilik Kurtuluş uyuyor Manastır uyuyor utanç bit ısırdı ve uyudu Tanrı uyuyo...

  Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view, Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend: All tongues (the voice of souls)...

  Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty liv'd and died as flowers do now, Before the bastard signs of fair were borne, ...

  Ah, wherefore with infection should he live, And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve, And lace itsel...

  Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry, As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And pures...

  Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o'er-sways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a...

  When I have seen by Time's fell hand defac'd The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down-raze...

  Against my love shall be, as I am now, With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'er-worn; When hours have drain'd his blood...

  Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye, And all my soul and all my every part; And for this sin there is no remedy, It is so grounded in...

  Is it thy will thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, While shadow...

  Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, ...

  If there be nothing new, but that which is Hath been before, how are our brains beguil'd, Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss T...

  That God forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hou...

  Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services...

  Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said Thy edge should blunter be than appetite, Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd, To-morro...

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme; But you shall shine more bright in these conten...

O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem, By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem ...

What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since every one hath, every one, one sha...