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Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

 Poet
1 William Wordsworth
2 Emily Dickinson
3 William Shakespeare
4 Maya Angelou
5 Langston Hughes
6 Robert Frost
7 Walt Whitman
8 Rabindranath Tagore
9 Shel Silverstein
10 William Blake
11 Pablo Neruda
12 Sylvia Plath
13 Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
14 William Butler Yeats
15 Tupac Shakur
16 Oscar Wilde
17 Rudyard Kipling
18 Sandra Cisneros
19 Alfred Lord Tennyson
20 Alice Walker
21 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
22 Billy Collins
23 Christina Rossetti
24 Carol Ann Duffy
25 Charles Bukowski
26 Edgar Allan Poe
27 Sarojini Naidu
28 John Donne
29 Ralph Waldo Emerson
30 Nikki Giovanni
31 John Keats
32 Raymond Carver
33 Mark Twain
34 Thomas Hardy
35 Anne Sexton
36 Lewis Carroll
37 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
38 Gary Soto
39 Carl Sandburg
40 Alexander Pushkin
41 Gwendolyn Brooks
42 Henry David Thoreau
43 George (Lord) Byron
44 Spike Milligan
45 Margaret Atwood
46 Muhammad Ali
47 Roger McGough
48 Sara Teasdale
49 Jane Austen
50 Allen Ginsberg
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Famous Short Rain Poems

Famous Short Rain Poems. Short Rain Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Rain short poems

Other Short Poem Pages

Rain | Short Famous Poems and Poets

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by Jack Kerouac

Haiku

 The taste
 of rain
—Why kneel?


by Kobayashi Issa

In spring rain

 In spring rain
a pretty girl
 yawning.


by A R Ammons

Weathering

 A day without rain is like
a day without sunshine


by Yosa Buson

Early summer rain

 Early summer rain--
houses facing the river,
 two of them


by Omar Khayyam

Edocet artes;

«Edocet artes;
Fecundi calices quem non fecere disertum.»


by Matsuo Basho

First winter rain

 First winter rain--
even the monkey
 seems to want a raincoat.


by Matsuo Basho

Spring rain

 Spring rain
leaking through the roof
 dripping from the wasps' nest.


by Matsuo Basho

In the twilight rain

In the twilight rain
these brilliant-hued hibiscus . . .
A lovely sunset


by William Carlos (WCW) Williams

The Red Wheelbarrow

 so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.


by Robert Louis Stevenson

I Love To Be Warm By The Red Fireside

 I LOVE to be warm by the red fireside,
I love to be wet with rain:
I love to be welcome at lamplit doors,
And leave the doors again.


by Barry Tebb

WAKING

 Wires toss in the wind, shrubs flap

And the tap on windows wakes us

To March’s mistral madness:

I see white crocuses amid the rain.


by Omar Khayyam

In slandering and reviling you persist,

In slandering and reviling you persist,
Calling me infidel and atheist:
My errors I will not deny, but yet
Does foul abuse become a moralist?


by Omar Khayyam

Am I a wine-bibber? What if I am?

Am I a wine-bibber? What if I am?
Gueber or infidel? Suppose I am?
Each sect miscalls me, but I heed them not,
I am my own, and, what I am, I am.


by Omar Khayyam

Man is the whole creation's summary,

Man is the whole creation's summary,
The precious apple of great wisdom's eye;
The circle of existence is a ring,
Whereof the signet is humanity.


by Omar Khayyam

'Twas writ at first, whatever was to be,

'Twas writ at first, whatever was to be,
By pen, unheeding bliss or misery,
Yea, writ upon the tablet once for all,
To murmur or resist is vanity.


by Omar Khayyam

On the dread day of final scrutiny

On the dread day of final scrutiny
Thou wilt be rated by thy quality;
Get wisdom and fair qualities to-day,
For, as thou art, requited wilt thou be.


by A R Ammons

After Yesterday

 After yesterday
afternoon's blue
clouds and white rain
the mockingbird
in the backyard
untied the drops from
leaves and twigs
with a long singing.


by Dimitris P Kraniotis

Maybe

 The cloud struggled
against the sand
underneath the rain
of “no” and “yes”,
forcefully treading
on the rationale
that obeys
the impasse of “maybe”.


by Omar Khayyam

What is the world? A caravanserai ,

What is the world? A caravanserai,
A pied pavilion of night and day;
A feast whereat a thousand Jamshids sat,
A couch whereon a thousand Bahrams lay.


by Omar Khayyam

My critics call me a philosopher,

My critics call me a philosopher,
But Allah knows full well they greatly err;
I know not even what I am, much less
Why on this earth I am a sojourner!


by Wang Wei

In The Hills

 White rocks jutting from Ching stream
The weather's cold, red leaves few
No rain at all on the paths in the hills
Clothes are wet with the blue air.


by Omar Khayyam

This is the form Thou gavest me of old,

This is the form Thou gavest me of old,
Wherein Thou workest marvels manifold;
Can I aspire to be a better man,
Or other than I issued from Thy mould?


by Omar Khayyam

Such as I am, Thy power created me,

Such as I am, Thy power created me,
Thy care hath kept me for a century!
Through all these years I make experiment,
If my sins or Thy mercy greater be.


by Omar Khayyam

Was e'er man born who never went astray?

Was e'er man born who never went astray?
Did ever mortal pass a sinless day?
If I do ill, do not requite with ill!
Evil for evil how can'st Thou repay?


by Omar Khayyam

Sooner with half a loaf contented be,

Sooner with half a loaf contented be,
And water from a broken crock, like me,
Than lord it over one poor fellow-man,
Or to another bow the vassal knee.


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