At Last the Secret Is Out

At last the secret is out, as it always must come in the end,
The delicious story is ripe to tell to the intimate friend;
Over the tea-cups and in the square the tongue has its desire;
Still waters run deep, my dear, there's never smoke without fire.

Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links,
Behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks,
Under the look of fatigue, the attack of migraine and the sigh
There is always another story, there is more than meets the eye.

For the clear voice suddenly singing, high up in the convent wall,
The scent of the elder bushes, the sporting prints in the hall,
The croquet matches in summer, the handshake, the cough, the kiss,
There is always a wicked secret, a private reason for this.

by W. H. Auden

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin - Eugeny Onegin.

I like it even more now and didn;t understand when I should have read it at school. 

Style, humour, life - everything in one. 

To tell the honest truth, my favorite poems are actually song lyrics. I'm less afraid to say that now that Bob Dylan (U.S. singer-songwriter of the "folk revival" era) has won the Nobel Prize in literature!

It's hard for me to pick out a favorite song lyric, I have hundreds... I'll mention two.

"How Deep is the Ocean?" (Irving Berlin)   

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHW08p1t4jE

How much do I love you?

I'll tell you no lie

How deep is the ocean?

How high is the sky?

How many times a day do I think of you?

How many roses are sprinkled with dew?

How far would I travel

To be where you are?

How far is the journey

From here to a star?

And if I ever lost you

How much would I cry?

How deep is the ocean?

How high is the sky?

"More I Cannot Wish You" (Frank Loesser)   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iaHoOgT9vfk

Velvet, I can wish you,

For the collar of your coat,

And fortune smiling all along your way;

But more I cannot wish you

Than to wish you find your love--

Your own true love--this day;

Mansions, I can wish you,

Seven footmen all in red,

And calling cards upon a silver tray;

But more I cannot wish you

Than to wish you find your love--

Your own true love--this day:

Standing there, gazing at you, full of the bloom of youth;

Standing there, gazing at you--with a sheep's eye, and a lickerish tooth

Music, I can wish you--

Merry music while you're young--

And wisdom, when your hair has turned to gray;

But more I cannot wish you

Than to wish you find your love--

Your own true love--this day...

With a sheeps' eye... And a lickerish tooth...

And the strong arms

To carry you away.

作者：舒婷 By Shu Ting

我如果爱你—— If I love you --

绝不像攀援的凌霄花 I will never be a clinging trumpet creeper

借你的高枝炫耀自己 Using your high boughs to show off my height

我如果爱你—— If I love you --

绝不学痴情的鸟儿 I will never be a spoony bird

为绿荫重复单调的歌曲 Repeating a monotonous song for green shade

也不止像泉源 Or be a spring

常年送来清凉的慰藉 Bringing cool solace all year long

也不止像险峰 Or be a steep peak

增加你的高度，衬托你的威仪 Increasing your stature, reflecting your eminence

甚至日光 Even the sunlight

甚至春雨 Even the spring rain

不，这些都还不够 No, all these are not enough

我必须是你近旁的一株木棉 I must be a ceiba tree beside you

作为树的形象和你站在一起 Be the image of a tree standing together with you

根，紧握在地下 Our roots, entwined underground

叶，相触在云里 Our leaves, touching in the clouds

每一阵风过 With each gust of wind

我们都互相致意 We greet each other

但没有人 But nobody

听懂我们的言语 Can understand our words

你有你的铜枝铁干 You'll have your copper branches and iron trunk

像刀、像剑，也像戟 Like knives, like swords, like halberds, too

我有我的红硕花朵 I'll have my crimson flowers

像沉重的叹息 Like heavy sighs

又像英勇的火炬 And valiant torches

我们分担寒潮、风雷、霹雳 We'll share cold spells, storms and thunder

我们共享雾霭、流岚、虹霓 We'll share mists, hazes and rainbows

仿佛永远分离 Seemingly always apart

却又终身相依 But also forever interdependent

这才是伟大的爱情 Only this can be great love

坚贞就在这里 The loyalty is here

爱—— Love --

不仅爱你伟岸的身躯 I love not only your strapping stature

也爱你坚持的位置，足下的土地 But also your firm stand, the earth beneath you

CRANES

I sometimes think that riders brave,

Who met their death in bloody fight,

Were never buried in a grave

But rose as cranes with plumage white.

And ever since until this day

They pass high overhead and call.

Is that not why we often gaze

In solemn silence at them all?

In far-off foreign lands I see

The cranes in evening’s dying glow

Fly quickly past in company,

As men on horseback used to go.

And, as they fly far out of reach,

I hear them calling someone’s name.

Is that why sounds in Avar speech

Recall the clamour of a crane?

Across the weary sky they race,

Who friend and kinsman used to be,

And in their ranks I see a space—

Perhaps they’re keeping it for me?

One day I’ll join the flock of cranes,

With them I shall go winging, by

And you, who here on earth remain,

Will hear my loud and strident cry.