Oscar Wilde

(1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)

Oscar Wilde Poems

41. Italia 5/18/2001
42. La Mer 1/3/2003
43. Double Villanelle 4/1/2010
44. On Easter Day 1/3/2003
45. Sonnet On Hearing The Dies Irae Sung In The Sistine Chapel 1/3/2003
46. La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente 5/18/2001
47. Lotus Leaves 4/1/2010
48. The Garden Of Eros 5/18/2001
49. Vita Nuova 5/18/2001
50. Magdalen Walks 5/18/2001
51. The Teacher Of Wisdom 4/1/2010
52. Pan 1/3/2003
53. Impression - Le Reveillon 1/3/2003
54. Humanitad 5/18/2001
55. The Doer Of Good 4/1/2010
56. La Fuite De La Lune 1/3/2003
57. In The Gold Room - A Harmony 1/3/2003
58. The New Remorse 1/3/2003
59. San Miniato 5/18/2001
60. Les Silhouettes 1/3/2003
61. Impression Du Matin 5/18/2001
62. Panthea 5/18/2001
63. Sonnet 5/18/2001
64. Serenade 5/18/2001
65. Impression De Voyage 1/3/2003
66. Madonna Mia 5/18/2001
67. Ballade De Marguerite (Normande) 1/3/2003
68. Silentium Amoris 5/18/2001
69. Canzonet 1/3/2003
70. The Ballad Of Reading Gaol (Version II) 4/1/2010
71. An Inscription 4/1/2010
72. The Sphinx 1/3/2003
73. Endymion 5/18/2001
74. Holy Week At Genoa 1/3/2003
75. E Tenebris 5/18/2001
76. Rome Unvisited 5/18/2001
77. Ave Imperatrix 5/18/2001
78. Helas! 5/18/2001
79. Ballade De Marguerite 5/18/2001
80. The Grave Of Keats 5/18/2001

Comments about Oscar Wilde

  • Sylva Portoian Sylva Portoian (7/21/2012 12:49:00 AM)

    Every person has some genius-ness in his cells...
    brain...hands or body...
    Needs the chance to appear
    Needs the luck...
    You have...I have
    As small as it can be
    Even very small
    It is still geniusty...!

    62 person liked.
    65 person did not like.
  • T.P. Edwards (10/12/2007 6:26:00 PM)

    Wilde cryptic word spinning to somewhere in nowhere.
    He was no genius, a bewildered poet who thought he was a genius.
    Did the poem liberate him or anyone from its cage of flowery words bespeckled with Greek gods and goddesses?
    I tend to doubt it. A love for his own intellect, displayful of a pruriant pride in pining.

  • SS BAGHELA (10/4/2005 9:23:00 AM)

    He was a literary genius. I enjoy his poetry immensely. Conspirative Nature stole his life prematurely.

Best Poem of Oscar Wilde

Her Voice

THE wild bee reels from bough to bough
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing.
Now in a lily-cup, and now
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,
In his wandering;
Sit closer love: it was here I trow
I made that vow,

Swore that two lives should be like one
As long as the sea-gull loved the sea,
As long as the sunflower sought the sun,--
It shall be, I said, for eternity

Read the full of Her Voice

Le Panneau

Under the rose-tree's dancing shade
There stands a little ivory girl,
Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl
With pale green nails of polished jade.

The red leaves fall upon the mould,
The white leaves flutter, one by one,
Down to a blue bowl where the sun,
Like a great dragon, writhes in gold.

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