English Poetry |
English Poetry |
pinky |
Dec 24 2007, 01:17 PM
Post
#706
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 4221 Joined: 28-January 06 Member No.: 4518 |
Deserted -Augusta (Davies) Webster (1837-1894) No, mother, I am not sad: Why think me sad? I was always still, You remember, even when my heart was most glad And you used to let me dream at my will; And now I like better to watch the sea And the calm sad sky than to laugh with the rest. You know they are full of chatter and glee, And I like the quietness best. Nay, mother, you look so grave. I know what you're thinking and will not say; But you need not fear; I am growing brave Now that the pain is passing away, And I never weep for him now when alone, For perhaps it was better--who can tell?-- That it ended so. I shall soon be well Now that the hardest is known. I am so much stronger to-day I can look at all past and think how it grew And how by degrees it faded away, That light of my life. Ah! when I first knew I had only been a plaything to him Through all my loving, it seemed so strange. If the high noontide at once grew night-dim It would not be such a change. I wonder I did not die. Mother, I'll own it you now I am strong, I used to wake in the night and lie Wishing and wishing it might not be long-- Oh! it was wicked, and you all so kind, How could I wish to bring you a grief? But too much unhappiness makes one blind To all but one's own relief. I am not so wicked now; You need not fear. I am hoping that still, I am learning to lean on God, and I bow, Yes I think I bow my heart to His will. I found it a long hard struggle to make, To clasp my sorrow and say "It is best," But, believe it, you need not fear for my sake; Yes, mother, I am at rest: Yet, listen, if I should die soon-- And I know what they say, though you hide it from me-- Mother, you'll grant me my last-asked boon, That you'll try not to think it his fault, and if he, Mother, if he should seek you some day, You will not make him a hard reply, But tell him, before I passed away, I sent him kind good-bye. Mother, kiss me, do not cry. I could not keep from speaking of this; It is nothing to say "If I should die," It cannot bring death more near than it is; And I am much stronger. You shall not weep-- Who is it tells me that weeping is wrong? But let me lean on your lap and sleep, I lay waking last night too long. I Find no Peace -Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542) I find no peace, and all my war is done. I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice. I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise; And nought I have, and all the world I season. That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison And holdeth me not--yet can I scape no wise-- Nor letteth me live nor die at my device, And yet of death it giveth me occasion. Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain. I desire to perish, and yet I ask health. I love another, and thus I hate myself. I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain; Likewise displeaseth me both life and death, And my delight is causer of this strife. Thanks a lot for both these lovely poems noorie.. "The best and the most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched...but are felt in the heart." Far, very far, into the world of the farthest beyond My hope carries me and places me On the sweetest lap of the unknown. There i behold my self-form In the Dance-Delight of the Absolute Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born Every morn and every Night Some are born to sweet Delight Some are born to Endless night |
simplefable |
Jan 5 2008, 07:52 AM
Post
#707
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 8613 Joined: 3-August 07 From: ANDHRA PRADESH Member No.: 20340 |
The House with Nobody in it a poem by Joyce Kilmer If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade. I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free. Exactly what we would think too.. Thanks for the beautiful poem Pinky. This picture came into my mind, as i read this... After silence that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Aldous Huxley "Waqt ne kiya...Kya haseen sitm...Tum rahe na tum..Hum rahe na hum.." geetadutt noorjehan shamshadbegum Anmol Fankaar |
simplefable |
Jan 5 2008, 07:55 AM
Post
#708
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 8613 Joined: 3-August 07 From: ANDHRA PRADESH Member No.: 20340 |
I Find no Peace -Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542) I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain; Likewise displeaseth me both life and death, Just beautiful !! Thanks Noorie After silence that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Aldous Huxley "Waqt ne kiya...Kya haseen sitm...Tum rahe na tum..Hum rahe na hum.." geetadutt noorjehan shamshadbegum Anmol Fankaar |
simplefable |
Jan 5 2008, 08:01 AM
Post
#709
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 8613 Joined: 3-August 07 From: ANDHRA PRADESH Member No.: 20340 |
"Only U" While you are reading this poem , if someone appears in your mind, Then, "you are in love"with that person... Poem ..... means................. Thanks Iiluu. After silence that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Aldous Huxley "Waqt ne kiya...Kya haseen sitm...Tum rahe na tum..Hum rahe na hum.." geetadutt noorjehan shamshadbegum Anmol Fankaar |
simplefable |
Jan 5 2008, 08:23 AM
Post
#710
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 8613 Joined: 3-August 07 From: ANDHRA PRADESH Member No.: 20340 |
Sunset Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors which it passes to a row of ancient trees. You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth. leaving you, not really belonging to either, not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent, not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing that turns to a star each night and climbs- leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads) your own life, timid and standing high and growing, so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out, one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star. After silence that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Aldous Huxley "Waqt ne kiya...Kya haseen sitm...Tum rahe na tum..Hum rahe na hum.." geetadutt noorjehan shamshadbegum Anmol Fankaar |
pinky |
Jan 5 2008, 02:07 PM
Post
#711
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 4221 Joined: 28-January 06 Member No.: 4518 |
"Only U" No one in my "Life" But when i "Search" Something, Someone Come that is "Only U"!! No one in my "Book" But when i "Study" Something, Someone Come that is "Only U"!![b]No one in my "Game" But when i "Play" Something, Someone Come that is "Only U"!! No one in my "Brain" But when i "Think" Something, Someone Come that is "Only U"!! No one in my "Eye" But when i "See" Something, Someone Come that is "Only U"!! No one in my "Heart" But when i "Feel"Something, Someone Come that is "Only U"!! "Poem::>>>>>>:::" "You are in love" When you are together with that special someone, you pretend to ignore that person. But when that special someone is not around, you might look around tofind them. At that moment, "you are in love". Although there is someone else who always makes you laugh, your eyes and attention might go only to that special someone. Then, "you are in love". Although that special someone was supposed to have called you long back, To let you know of their safe arrival, your phone is quiet. You are desperately waiting for the call! At that moment, "you are in love". If you are much more excited for one short e-mail from that special someone than other many long e-mails, Then,"you are in love". When you find yourself as one who cannot erase all the emails or SMS messages in your phone because of one message from that special someone, Then, "you are in love". When you get a couple of free movie tickets, you would not hesitate to think of that special someone. Then, "you are in love". You keep telling yourself, "that special someone is just a friend",but you realize that you can not avoid that person's special attraction. At that moment,"you are in love". While you are reading this poem , if someone appears in your mind, Then, "you are in love"with that person... Peom ..... means................. Nice poem, thanks iillu "The best and the most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched...but are felt in the heart." Far, very far, into the world of the farthest beyond My hope carries me and places me On the sweetest lap of the unknown. There i behold my self-form In the Dance-Delight of the Absolute Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born Every morn and every Night Some are born to sweet Delight Some are born to Endless night |
pinky |
Jan 5 2008, 02:10 PM
Post
#712
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 4221 Joined: 28-January 06 Member No.: 4518 |
The House with Nobody in it a poem by Joyce Kilmer If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade. I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free. Exactly what we would think too.. Thanks for the beautiful poem Pinky. This picture came into my mind, as i read this... thank you Sunset Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors which it passes to a row of ancient trees. You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth. leaving you, not really belonging to either, not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent, not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing that turns to a star each night and climbs- leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads) your own life, timid and standing high and growing, so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out, one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star. Such a Lovely poem.. "The best and the most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched...but are felt in the heart." Far, very far, into the world of the farthest beyond My hope carries me and places me On the sweetest lap of the unknown. There i behold my self-form In the Dance-Delight of the Absolute Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born Every morn and every Night Some are born to sweet Delight Some are born to Endless night |
pinky |
Jan 10 2008, 10:42 PM
Post
#713
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 4221 Joined: 28-January 06 Member No.: 4518 |
Untitled
Emily Dickinson To die--takes just a little while-- They say it doesn't hurt-- It's only fainter--by degrees-- And then--it's out of sight-- A darker Ribbon--for a Day-- A Crape upon the Hat-- And then the pretty sunshine comes-- And helps us to forget-- The absent--mystic--creature-- That but for love of us-- Had gone to sleep--that soundest time-- Without the weariness-- Somewhere somehwere i have never travelled,gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose or if your wish be to close me,i and my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands e.e.cummings "The best and the most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched...but are felt in the heart." Far, very far, into the world of the farthest beyond My hope carries me and places me On the sweetest lap of the unknown. There i behold my self-form In the Dance-Delight of the Absolute Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born Every morn and every Night Some are born to sweet Delight Some are born to Endless night |
pinky |
Jan 13 2008, 10:22 PM
Post
#714
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 4221 Joined: 28-January 06 Member No.: 4518 |
Untitled Emily Dickinson To die--takes just a little while-- They say it doesn't hurt-- It's only fainter--by degrees-- And then--it's out of sight-- A darker Ribbon--for a Day-- A Crape upon the Hat-- And then the pretty sunshine comes-- And helps us to forget-- The absent--mystic--creature-- That but for love of us-- Had gone to sleep--that soundest time-- Without the weariness-- Somewhere somehwere i have never travelled,gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose or if your wish be to close me,i and my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands e.e.cummings Somewhere is very close to you just have to see with yours eye's in real world.........i think poem tell alot.... "The best and the most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched...but are felt in the heart." Far, very far, into the world of the farthest beyond My hope carries me and places me On the sweetest lap of the unknown. There i behold my self-form In the Dance-Delight of the Absolute Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born Every morn and every Night Some are born to sweet Delight Some are born to Endless night |
pinky |
Jan 13 2008, 10:31 PM
Post
#715
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 4221 Joined: 28-January 06 Member No.: 4518 |
Love and Imagination
Love and imagination are magicians Who create an image of the Beloved in your mind With which you share your secret intimate moments. This apparition is made of nothing at al, But from its mouth comes the question, “Am I not your Loved One?” and from you the soft reply”Yes.Yes.Yes.” -Rumi- Bad dreams One day you will look back and laugh at yourself. You’ll say, “ I can’t believe I was so asleep! How did I ever forget the truth? How ridiculous to believe that sadness and sickness Are anything other than bad dreams.” -Rumi- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Day Is Done The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of time For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor; And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet. The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away Henry Longfellow "The best and the most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched...but are felt in the heart." Far, very far, into the world of the farthest beyond My hope carries me and places me On the sweetest lap of the unknown. There i behold my self-form In the Dance-Delight of the Absolute Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born Every morn and every Night Some are born to sweet Delight Some are born to Endless night |
noorie |
Jan 15 2008, 11:22 PM
Post
#716
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Dedicated Member Group: Away Posts: 3219 Joined: 21-June 06 Member No.: 6518 |
Love and Imagination Love and imagination are magicians Who create an image of the Beloved in your mind With which you share your secret intimate moments. This apparition is made of nothing at al, But from its mouth comes the question, “Am I not your Loved One?” and from you the soft reply”Yes.Yes.Yes.” -Rumi- Bad dreams One day you will look back and laugh at yourself. You’ll say, “ I can’t believe I was so asleep! How did I ever forget the truth? How ridiculous to believe that sadness and sickness Are anything other than bad dreams.” -Rumi- Pinkz, I officially claim you as my soul-sister; the poem selections on this page and the last could easily have been mine. You are too good. "During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act" "You have enemies? Good! It means that you stood up for something, sometime in your life." |
noorie |
Jan 15 2008, 11:28 PM
Post
#717
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Dedicated Member Group: Away Posts: 3219 Joined: 21-June 06 Member No.: 6518 |
If you forget me
-By Pablo Neruda If you forget me I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists: aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine. In Spanish – “Si Tu Me Olvidas” Quiero qui sepas Una cosa. Tú sabes cómo es esto: si miro la luna de cristal, la rama roja del lento otoño en mi ventana, si toco junto al fuego la impalpable ceniza o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña, todo me lleva a ti, como si todo lo que existe, aromas, luz, metales, fueran pequeños barcos que navegan hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan. Ahora bien, si poco a poco dejas de quererme dejaré de quererte poco a poco. Si de pronto me olvidas no me busques, que ya te habré olvidado. Si consideras largo y loco el viento de banderas que pasa por mi vida y te decides a dejarme a la orilla del corazón en que tengo raíces, piensa que en ese día, a esa hora levantaré los brazos y saldrán mis raíces a buscar otra tierra. Pero si cada día, cada hora sientes que a mí estás destinada con dulzura implacable. Si cada día sube una flor a tus labios a buscarme, ay amor mío, ay mía, en mí todo ese fuego se repite, en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida, mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada, y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos sin salir de los míos. Wouldn’t it be a treat for you folks if you could hear me recite that! "During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act" "You have enemies? Good! It means that you stood up for something, sometime in your life." |
pinky |
Jan 16 2008, 02:01 PM
Post
#718
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Dedicated Member Group: Members Posts: 4221 Joined: 28-January 06 Member No.: 4518 |
Love and Imagination Love and imagination are magicians Who create an image of the Beloved in your mind With which you share your secret intimate moments. This apparition is made of nothing at al, But from its mouth comes the question, “Am I not your Loved One?” and from you the soft reply”Yes.Yes.Yes.” -Rumi- Bad dreams One day you will look back and laugh at yourself. You’ll say, “ I can’t believe I was so asleep! How did I ever forget the truth? How ridiculous to believe that sadness and sickness Are anything other than bad dreams.” -Rumi- Pinkz, I officially claim you as my soul-sister; the poem selections on this page and the last could easily have been mine. You are too good. Thats so sweet of you noorie..thank you i love all the poems you upload.. If you forget me -By Pablo Neruda If you forget me I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists: aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine. In Spanish – “Si Tu Me Olvidas” Quiero qui sepas Una cosa. [b]Tú sabes cómo es esto: si miro la luna de cristal, la rama roja del lento otoño en mi ventana, si toco junto al fuego la impalpable ceniza o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña, todo me lleva a ti, como si todo lo que existe, aromas, luz, metales, fueran pequeños barcos que navegan hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan. Ahora bien, si poco a poco dejas de quererme dejaré de quererte poco a poco. Si de pronto me olvidas no me busques, que ya te habré olvidado. Si consideras largo y loco el viento de banderas que pasa por mi vida y te decides a dejarme a la orilla del corazón en que tengo raíces, piensa que en ese día, a esa hora levantaré los brazos y saldrán mis raíces a buscar otra tierra. Pero si cada día, cada hora sientes que a mí estás destinada con dulzura implacable. Si cada día sube una flor a tus labios a buscarme, ay amor mío, ay mía, en mí todo ese fuego se repite, en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida, mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada, y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos sin salir de los míos. Wouldn’t it be a treat for you folks if you could hear me recite that![b/] Lovely poem..the first one Can you Plz translate that? it is spanish right?i definitely wd love to hear you recite it may be on hf radio? "The best and the most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched...but are felt in the heart." Far, very far, into the world of the farthest beyond My hope carries me and places me On the sweetest lap of the unknown. There i behold my self-form In the Dance-Delight of the Absolute Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born Every morn and every Night Some are born to sweet Delight Some are born to Endless night |
noorie |
Jan 21 2008, 03:15 AM
Post
#719
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Dedicated Member Group: Away Posts: 3219 Joined: 21-June 06 Member No.: 6518 |
Thats so sweet of you noorie..thank you i love all the poems you upload.. lovely poem..the first one Can you Plz translate that? it is spanish right?i definitely wd love to hear you recite it may be on hf radio? No, that fits you more. Pinkz, please check the poem that's right above the Spanish one; both are the same. The HF radio thing, you can't be serious! I am too shy. Besides, I don't want to scare the competition away, do I? "During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act" "You have enemies? Good! It means that you stood up for something, sometime in your life." |
noorie |
Jan 21 2008, 03:20 AM
Post
#720
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Dedicated Member Group: Away Posts: 3219 Joined: 21-June 06 Member No.: 6518 |
The Morning Runs On
-Nicholas Heiney The morning runs on, a springtime secret through the avenues and avenues which lure all sound away I sing, as I was taught inside myself. I sing inside myself when wild moments slice some tender evening like a breeze that rattles gravel and digs in the dirt I sing, as I was told, inside myself. I sing inside myself the one wild song, song that whirls my words around until a world unfurls my ship’s new sail I catch the dew and set a course amongst the ocean curls The silence at the song’s end Before the next Is the world. "During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act" "You have enemies? Good! It means that you stood up for something, sometime in your life." |
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