Birth poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best birth poems ever written. Read all poems about birth.
A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.
All nature has a feeling: woods, fields, brooks
Are life eternal: and in silence they
Speak happiness beyond the reach of books;
There's nothing mortal in them; their decay
Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no
No question was asked me--it could not be so !
If the life was the question, a thing sent to try
And to live on be YES; what can NO be ? to die.
Oh when I think of my long-suffering race,
For weary centuries despised, oppressed,
Enslaved and lynched, denied a human place
In the great life line of the Christian West;
Because my love is quick to come and go-
A little here, and then a little there-
What use are any words of mine to swear
My heart is stubborn, and my spirit slow
Atomized ocean, sun powered, airlifted,
With thunder and lightning, breaks
Eternal silence of infinite space.
Unknown what is it holding when it falls, yet
When I die choose a star
and name it after me
that you may know
I have not abandoned
Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Among the stars that have a different birth,
Once I dipt into the future far as human eye could see,
And I saw the Chief Forecaster, dead as any one can be--
Dead and damned and shut in Hades as a liar from his birth,
With a record of unreason seldome paralleled on earth.
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
In the ancient days, when the first quiver of speech came to my lips, I ascended the holy mountain and spoke unto God,
Penetrates the wonderful womb of wisdom
Ordained to inspire hope and re-script destiny
Enlightens to minus the miasma of the masses
Trained for titillation and tutored for titivation
After the rain the air is sweet
With glist`ning pools beneath my feet
Raindrops dripping down from the eaves
Teardrops slipping off shining leaves
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail
vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales,
A daughter is beauty at its finest.
Heart of an angel, soul so pure, and sweet.
Through the pregnant universe rumbles life's terrific thunder,
And Earth's bowels quake with terror; strange and terrible storms break,
Lightning-torches flame the heavens, kindling souls of men, thereunder:
Africa! long ages sleeping, O my motherland, awake!
A young man of strong body, weakened by hunger, sat on the walker's portion of the street stretching his hand toward all who passed, begging and repeating his hand toward all who passed, begging and repeating the sad song of his defeat in life, while suffering from hunger and from humiliation.
When night came, his lips and tongue were parched, while his hand was still as empty as his stomach.
Simply she stands at the cathedral’s
great ascent, close to the rose window,
with the apple in the apple-pose,
guiltless-guilty once and for all
The tempest calmed after bending the branches of the trees and leaning heavily upon the grain in the field. The stars appeared as broken remnants of lightning, but now silence prevailed over all, as if Nature's war had never been fought.
At that hour a young woman entered her chamber and knelt by her bed sobbing bitterly. Her heart flamed with agony but she could finally open her lips and say, 'Oh Lord, bring him home safely to me. I have exhausted my tears and can offer no more, oh Lord, full of love and mercy. My patience is drained and calamity is seeking possession of my heart. Save him, oh Lord, from the iron paws of War; deliver him from such unmerciful Death, for he is weak, governed by the strong. Oh Lord, save my beloved, who is Thine own son, from the foe, who is Thy foe. Keep him from the forced pathway to Death's door; let him see me, or come and take me to him.'
Alarming sound of ambulances goes on in ample numbers everyday everywhere;
Death has become a routine matter due to various versions of Corona pandemic;
And birth has become a countering matter with celebration in fun distributing sweets;
This Cosmic Dance of Lord Siva depicts death and birth by fire pot and deer in two hands!
"Light gave birth to the existence.
Existence gave birth to reality.
Reality gave birth to eternity.
Eternity gave birth to time.
I have witness the birth of a new country
I have witness the birth of a new nation
My Savior, Amida Buddha
when wisdom is ripe enough to give birth to uncreative silence, ...
We hear the word Christmas, used in so many ways, most do not relate,
to the meaning, the birth of Christ, on that day.
Everyone is rushing, planning, and decorating their yards,
When the bad activities done in the earlier birth,
Without knowing the fact of doing charity might help to sever
the sin by which it might be of help in the future birth,
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