10 Best Famous Humiliations Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Humiliations poems. This is a select list of the best famous Humiliations poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Humiliations poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of humiliations poems.

• All Famous Humiliations Poems

 The Shame of Going Back And the reason of your failure isn't anybody's fault -- 
When you haven't got a billet, and the times are very slack, 
There is nothing that can spur you like the shame of going back; 
Crawling home with empty pockets, 
Going back hard-up; 
Oh! it's then you learn the meaning of humiliation's cup. 

When the place and you are strangers and you struggle all alone, 
And you have a mighty longing for the town where you are known; 
When your clothes are very shabby and the future's very black, 
There is nothing that can hurt you like the shame of going back. 

When we've fought the battle bravely and are beaten to the wall, 
'Tis the sneers of men, not conscience, that make cowards of us all; 
And the while you are returning, oh! your brain is on the rack, 
And your heart is in the shadow of the shame of going back. 

When a beaten man's discovered with a bullet in his brain, 
They POST-MORTEM him, and try him, and they say he was insane; 
But it very often happens that he'd lately got the sack, 
And his onward move was owing to the shame of going back. 

Ah! my friend, you call it nonsense, and your upper lip is curled, 
I can see that you have never worked your passage through the world; 
But when fortune rounds upon you and the rain is on the track, 
You will learn the bitter meaning of the shame of going back; 
Going home with empty pockets, 
Going home hard-up; 
Oh, you'll taste the bitter poison in humiliation's cup.

For Taslima Nasrin, in sisterhood
There is no fatwa in this land,
what are you thinking,
this is Europe.
A place without borders and
without internal wrinkles,
without possibilities for asylum and exile.

There is no fatwa in this land –
it is divided into
thousands of small conspiracies,
tiny murders per partes,
which seem like coincidental misfortunes
and sap your blood, drop by drop.

There is no fatwa in this land,
what are you thinking,
this is Europe. No one
foresaw the exit from Eden,
no one is responsible for it. 

There is no fatwa in this land,
it is replaced by countless
cunning tattling friendships,
humiliations at the workplace,
the disabling of every shift,
treading in place
in a thick, impassable ether,
in a treasury where your every move
crosses a laser beam five times.

The mechanisms for
the prevention of breathing multiply,
the windpipe squeezed just enough
for several molecules of oxygen
to enter.

There is no fatwa in this land,
what are you thinking, this is Europe.
A sovereign union 
of the poor and the tycoons,
no more borders, but also no
decency or dignity.

There is no fatwa in this land,
but when you die, we will
cash in your death as well,
sell it five times over
to raise its value.

After death we will make you
immortal, now
you be quiet and
leave us 
your achievements and success.

Did you mention asylum or exile?
Why? There is no fatwa in this land.

© Taja Kramberger, Z roba klifa / From the Edge of a Cliff, CSK, Ljubljana, 2011
© Translation by Špela Drnovšek Zorko, 2012