Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

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

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 Omar Khayyam

Edocet artes;

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


by Yosa Buson

Early summer rain

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


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 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 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 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

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 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

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 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.


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?


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