Oscar Wilde

(1854-1900 / Dublin / Ireland)

Oscar Wilde Poems

41. La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente 5/18/2001
42. La Fuite De La Lune 1/3/2003
43. La Mer 1/3/2003
44. Le Jardin 1/3/2003
45. Le Jardin Des Tuileries 1/3/2003
46. Le Panneau 1/3/2003
47. Le Reveillon 5/18/2001
48. Les Ballons 1/3/2003
49. Les Silhouettes 1/3/2003
50. Libertatis Sacra Fames 5/18/2001
51. Lotus Leaves 4/1/2010
52. Louis Napoleon 5/18/2001
53. Madonna Mia 5/18/2001
54. Magdalen Walks 5/18/2001
55. My Voice 5/18/2001
56. Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring 5/6/2015
57. On Easter Day 1/3/2003
58. On The Massacre Of The Christians In Bulgaria 1/3/2003
59. On The Sale By Auction Of Keats' Love Letters 1/3/2003
60. Pan 1/3/2003
61. Panthea 5/18/2001
62. Phedre 1/3/2003
63. Portia 5/18/2001
64. Quantum Mutata 5/18/2001
65. Queen Henrietta Maria 5/18/2001
66. Quia Multum Amavi 5/18/2001
67. Ravenna 1/3/2003
68. Requiescat 5/18/2001
69. Rome Unvisited 5/18/2001
70. Roses And Rue 1/3/2003
71. Salve Saturnia Tellus 1/3/2003
72. San Miniato 5/18/2001
73. Santa Decca 5/18/2001
74. Serenade 5/18/2001
75. Silentium Amoris 5/18/2001
76. Sonnet 5/18/2001
77. Sonnet On Approaching Italy 5/18/2001
78. Sonnet On Hearing The Dies Irae Sung In The Sistine Chapel 1/3/2003
79. Sonnet To Liberty 5/18/2001
80. Sonnet Written In Holy Week At Genoa 12/31/2002

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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