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Best Famous Subterfuge Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Subterfuge poems. This is a select list of the best famous Subterfuge poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Subterfuge poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of subterfuge poems.

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Written by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz | Create an image from this poem

My Lady

My Lady (Español)

    Perdite, señora, quiero
de mi silencio perdón,
si lo que ha sido atención
le hace parecer grosero.

    Y no me podrás culpar
si hasta aquí mi proceder,
por ocuparse en querer,
se ha olvidado de explicar.

    Que en mi amorosa pasión
no fue desuido, ni mengua,
quitar el uso a la lengua
por dárselo al corazón.

    Ni de explicarme dejaba:
que, como la pasión mía
acá en el alma te vía,
acá en el alma te hablaba.

    Y en esta idea notable
dichosamenta vivía,
porque en mi mano tenia
el fingirte favorable.

    Con traza tan peregrina
vivió mi esperanza vana,
pues te pudo hacer humana
concibiéndote divina.

    ¡Oh, cuán loca llegué a verme
en tus dichosos amores,
que, aun fingidos, tus favroes
pudieron enloquecerme!

    ¡Oh, cómo, en tu sol hermoso
mi ardiente afecto encendido,
por cebarse en lo lucido,
olvidó lo peligroso!

    Perdona, si atrevimiento
fue atreverme a tu ardor puro;
que no hay sagrado seguro
de culpas de pensamiento.

    De esta manera engañaba
la loca esperanza mía,
y dentro de mí tenía
todo el bien que deseaba.

    Mas ya tu precepto grave
rompe mi silencio mudo;
que él solamente ser pudo
de mi respeto la llave.

    Y aunque el amar tu belleza
es delito sin disculpa
castígueseme la culpa
primero que la tibieza.

    No quieras, pues, rigurosa,
que, estando ya declarada,
sea de veras desdichada
quien fue de burlas dichosa.

    Si culpas mi desacato,
culpa también tu licencia;
que si es mala mi obediencia,
no fue justo tu mandato

    Y si es culpable mi intento,
será mi afecto precito,
porque es amarte un delito
de que nunca me arrepiento.

    Esto en mis afectos hallo,
y más, que explicar no sé;
mas tú, de lo que callé,
inferirás lo que callo.

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My Lady (English)

    My lady, I must implore
forgiveness for keeping still,
if what I meant as tribute
ran contrary to your will.

    Please do not reproach me
if the course I have maintained
in the eagerness of my love
left my silence unexplained.

    I love you with so much passion,
neither rudeness nor neglect
can explain why I tied my tongue,
yet left my heart unchecked.

    The matter to me was simple:
love for you was so strong,
I could see you in my soul
and talk to you all day long.

    With this idea in mind,
I lived in utter delight,
pretending my subterfuge
found favor in your sight.

    In this strange, ingenious fashion,
I allowed the hope to be mine
that I still might see as human
what I really conceived as divine.

    Oh, how mad I became
in my blissful love of you,
for even though feigned, your favor
made all my madness seem true!

    How unwisely my ardent love,
which your glorious sun inflamed,
sought to feed upon your brightness,
though the risk of your fire was plain!

    Forgive me if, thus emboldened,
I made bold with that sacred fire:
there's no sanctuary secure
when thought's transgressions conspire.

    Thus it was I kept indulging
these foolhardy hopes of mine,
enjoying within myself
a happiness sublime.

    But now, at your solemn bidding,
this silence I herewith suspend,
for your summons unlocks in me
a respect no time can end.

    And, although loving your beauty
is a crime beyond repair,
rather the crime be chastised
than my fervor cease to dare.

    With this confession in hand,
I pray, be less stern with me.
Do not condemn to distress
one who fancied bliss so free.

    If you blame me for disrespect,
remember, you gave me leave;
thus, if obedience was wrong,
your commanding must be my reprieve.

    Let my love be ever doomed
if guilty in its intent,
for loving you is a crime
of which I will never repent.

    This much I descry in my feelings--
and more that I cannot explain;
but you, from what I've not said,
may infer what words won't contain.


Written by R S Thomas | Create an image from this poem

Childrens Song

 We live in our own world,
A world that is too small
For you to stoop and enter
Even on hands and knees,
The adult subterfuge.
And though you probe and pry With analytic eye, And eavesdrop all our talk With an amused look, You cannot find the centre Where we dance, where we play, Where life is still asleep Under the closed flower, Under the smooth shell Of eggs in the cupped nest That mock the faded blue Of your remoter heaven.
Written by R S Thomas | Create an image from this poem

Childrens Song

 We live in our own world,
A world that is too small
For you to stoop and enter
Even on hands and knees,
The adult subterfuge.
And though you probe and pry With analytic eye, And eavesdrop all our talk With an amused look, You cannot find the centre Where we dance, where we play, Where life is still asleep Under the closed flower, Under the smooth shell Of eggs in the cupped nest That mock the faded blue Of your remoter heaven.
Written by Helen Hunt Jackson | Create an image from this poem

A Calendar of Sonnets: August

 Silence again.
The glorious symphony Hath need of pause and interval of peace.
Some subtle signal bids all sweet sounds cease, Save hum of insects' aimless industry.
Pathetic summer seeks by blazonry Of color to conceal her swift decrease.
Weak subterfuge! Each mocking day doth fleece A blossom, and lay bare her poverty.
Poor middle-aged summer! Vain this show! Whole fields of Golden-Rod cannot offset One meadow with a single violet; And well the singing thrush and lily know, Spite of all artifice which her regret Can deck in splendid guise, their time to go!
Written by Emily Dickinson | Create an image from this poem

Of all the Souls that stand create --

 Of all the Souls that stand create --
I have elected -- One --
When Sense from Spirit -- files away --
And Subterfuge -- is done --
When that which is -- and that which was --
Apart -- intrinsic -- stand --
And this brief Drama in the flesh --
Is shifted -- like a Sand --
When Figures show their royal Front --
And Mists -- are carved away,
Behold the Atom -- I preferred --
To all the lists of Clay!



Book: Reflection on the Important Things