I've attempted to interpret this poem by William Blake in my way, I hope you guys like it. :) Ozymandias : Percy Bysshe Shelly I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal, these words appear: My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.” --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/papertownjester/message

I've attempted to interpret this poem by William Blake in my way, I hope you guys like it. :) The Tyger : William Blake Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp! When the stars threw down their spears And water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/papertownjester/message

I've attempted to interpret this poem by Robert Frost in my way, I hope you guys like it. :) Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening : Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/papertownjester/message

I've attempted to interpret this poem by Robert Frost in my way, I hope you guys like it. :) Fire and Ice : Robert Frost Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/papertownjester/message

I've attempted to interpret this poem by John Donne in my way, I hope you guys like it. :) No Man Is an Island : John Donne No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/papertownjester/message

This is an introductory episode. Thank you for being here. Enjoy. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/papertownjester/message