James Joyce

(2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941 / Dublin / Ireland)

Best Poem of James Joyce

All Day I Hear The Noise Of Waters

All day I hear the noise of waters
Making moan,
Sad as the sea-bird is when, going
Forth alone,
He hears the winds cry to the water's
Monotone.

The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing
Where I go.
I hear the noise of many waters
Far below.
All day, all night, I hear them flowing
To and fro.

Read the full of All Day I Hear The Noise Of Waters

In The Dark Pine-Wood

In the dark pine-wood
I would we lay,
In deep cool shadow
At noon of day.

How sweet to lie there,
Sweet to kiss,
Where the great pine-forest
Enaisled is!

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