(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 / Bombay)

Comments about Rudyard Kipling

Enter the verification code :

  • Babyjoram Benson (5/18/2009 6:04:00 AM)

    Hello
    (favorfrank35@yahoo.co.uk)
    My name is Miss favor am 24yr old. I saw your profile today at www.poemhunter.com
    and it really acttract me alot i believe that you are the man i
    have been looking for to share my love; How is your health? i hope all is well
    with you. I believe that we can move from here; but remember that distance; age
    and colour dose not matter what matters is the true love and understanding; in
    my next
    e-mail i shall include my pictuer; i been waithing for your reply mail
    me with this mail address for further introduction.
    Bye hopeing to hear from you soonest

    (favorfrank35@yahoo.co.uk)

    60 person liked.
    162 person did not like.
  • Edgar Eslit (8/17/2007 1:53:00 AM)

    Kipling is indeed unique and novel in terms of poetic style. He's one of a kind. You need to have an open mind to understand his views and concept of the world. I admit, I also learn from his style.

    81 person liked.
    53 person did not like.
  • Luke Benuska (11/13/2006 7:55:00 PM)

    i think that Rudyard kipling is a cool guy and room 106 5th period rocks

    61 person liked.
    49 person did not like.
  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/19/2006 9:45:00 AM)

    I did not like Mr Kipling's protryal of india in some of his poems.

    47 person liked.
    68 person did not like.
  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/19/2006 9:44:00 AM)

    Mr Kipling might have born in India, but i did not in some of his poetry like the potryal of India.

    14 person liked.
    13 person did not like.

The First Chantey

Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her;
Haling her dumb from the camp, took her and bound her.
Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her;
Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her.

Swift through the forest we ran; none stood to guard us,
Few were my people and far; then the flood barred us --
Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen.
Panting we waited the death, stealer and stolen.

[Hata Bildir]