Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
The Offering, Translation of Offrande By Rene Etiemble
The Offering, Translation of “Offrande” by René Etiemble (Quatrains rhymed abab, cdcd, efef, ghgh, each line made up of eleven to thirteen syllables. Etiemble is wary of free verse as we shall see in the next posting. From his only collection: le Coeur et la cendre: soixante ans de poésie (the heart and the ash: sixty years of poetry). Illustrs. by Hiro Soumita. Paris: Les deux animaux, 1984, p. 43.) For you! Here are the hands more scarce than chance the nails of my fingers remain in bud which never shed their leaves and agonies of perfumes there fuse their aromas with the roses of Menton. Here for you my arms, weary of so many wars so heavy to bear, so many sent to concentration camps, that the flesh looks lifeless where of late it sagged in cribs for winter, in chains for summer. Here for you my breast (did you sense it so close?) made heavy by sorrow and this darkened core that the most beautiful nipples in their flesh cock of the rock achieve fullness: the cause of their desperation Here for you this yet unformed abdomen which age nor love can wound: Ah! Don’t let it worry you even a bit, forgetting your death by drinking its mirage and to want to die by drawing the screen! © T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Copyright © 2024 T Wignesan. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things