Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
''Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
A Poet's Death Is His Life Iv
The dark wings of night enfolded the city upon which Nature had spread a pure white garment of snow; and men deserted the streets for their houses in search of warmth, while the north wind probed in contemplation of laying waste the gardens. There in the suburb stood an old hut heavily laden with snow and on the verge of falling. In a dark recess of that hovel was a poor bed in which a dying youth was lying, staring at the dim light of his oil lamp, made to flicker by the entering winds. He a man in the spring of life who foresaw fully that the peaceful hour of freeing himself from the clutches of life was fast nearing. He was awaiting Death's visit gratefully, and upon his pale face appeared the dawn of hope; and on his lops a sorrowful smile; and in his eyes forgiveness.
The Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam
Translated into English in 1859 by Edward FitzGerald
Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.
Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky
Heartaches Will Never Last
Heartaches will never last nor will they ever stay;
sorrow shall go so fast in the passing of day.
Once in a little while, one's heart may break and bleed;
abandoned by the smile, his teardrops want to plead.
The colors of life's way are not just pink and bright
but also dark and gray for the day and the night.
The pain and hopelessness are just in someone's mind;
causing some mental stress, better leave them behind.
The Love Poem
Love is understanding
Love is compromise
Love is generosity
Love is sacrifice
Love does not discriminate
Love is free of charge
Love is the solution
Love is who we are
Love 1 - Love Is All Embracing
Love is all embracing,
Pure and sublime
Which flows and keeps flowing
Like a never ending stream;
From the eternal river,
Pouring out the elixir of love,
Love that gushes out unreservedly,
From each cell of the body,
Through each pore of the skin,
From the depths of the heart,
Kiss My Soul
If that morning would be my ideal incredible readiness,
In a forgotten time of the tellurium and most desirable land,
Your certain love would come to utter my vivid happiness-
Kissing closed eyelids, caressing them with your tender hand.
We would wait for the mercy of our dearest Lord Christ Jesus,
Who quintessentially has freed us from our sins by his blood,
Purifying incessantly our souls by our obedience to the truth,
Greeting one another so deeply with the kiss of our love.
Evangeline: A Tale Of Acadie
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.
This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman
My fancies are fireflies, —
Specks of living light
twinkling in the dark.
The voice of wayside pansies,
that do not attract the careless glance,
murmurs in these desultory lines.
In the drowsy dark caves of the mind
dreams build their nest with fragments
Perdite, señora, quiero
de mi silencio perdón,
si lo que ha sido atención
le hace parecer grosero.
Y no me podrás culpar
si hasta aquí mi proceder,
por ocuparse en querer,
se ha olvidado de explicar.
It is not hard to forgive you
Transparent heart, i know who are you
It is okay to forgive you
Need no reason, just forgive you
Pains u gave me, smiles i give you
Hates can stab me, please not to you
You innocent in the eyes of anger
Truth will be seen a bit longer
The rest of us watch from beyond the fence
as the woman moves with her jagged stride
into her pain as if into a slow race.
We see her body in motion
but hear no sounds, or we hear
sounds but no language; or we know
it is not a language we know
yet. We can see her clearly
but for her it is running in black smoke.
The cluster of cells in her swelling
So much rain, so much life like the swollen sky
of this black August. My sister, the sun,
broods in her yellow room and won't come out.
Everything goes to hell; the mountains fume
like a kettle, rivers overrun; still,
she will not rise and turn off the rain.
She is in her room, fondling old things,
my poems, turning her album. Even if thunder falls
My heart was heavy, for its trust had been
Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong;
So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men,
One summer Sabbath day I strolled among
The green mounds of the village burial-place;
Where, pondering how all human love and hate
Find one sad level; and how, soon or late,
Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face,
And cold hands folded over a still heart,
Pass the green threshold of our common grave,
So this is it….
I finally found out the truth
Never expected it from you! ! !
I thought you were my friend….
But you weren’t….
You were just using me just like you used all the other people…
For your own selfish reasons…
I always thought those people who left your friendship were wrong! !
But no, what I thought was wrong! !
I’m never gonna forgive you…
I fell out of love: that’s our story’s dull ending,
as flat as life is, as dull as the grave.
Excuse me-I’ll break off the string of this love song
and smash the guitar. We have nothing to save.
The puppy is puzzled. Our furry small monster
can’t decide why we complicate simple things so-
he whines at your door and I let him enter,
when he scratches at my door, you always go.
At The Door
All actors look for them-the defining moments
When what a character does is what he is.
The script may say, He goes to the door
And exits or She goes out the door stage left.
But you see your fingers touching the doorknob,
Closing around it, turning it
As if by themselves. The latch slides
Out of the strike-plate, the door swings on its hinges,
And you're about to take that step
At four o'clock
in the gun-metal blue dark
we hear the first crow of the first cock
the gun-metal blue window
and immediately there is an echo
off in the distance,
then one from the backyard fence,
Endymion: Book Iv
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse!
O first-born on the mountains! by the hues
Of heaven on the spiritual air begot:
Long didst thou sit alone in northern grot,
While yet our England was a wolfish den;
Before our forests heard the talk of men;
Before the first of Druids was a child;--
Long didst thou sit amid our regions wild
Rapt in a deep prophetic solitude.
There came an eastern voice of solemn mood:--
** Forgiveness **
so much trouble in our lives
And wonder why
this for me is ‘hives’
Why is there pain
This hate insane
cos we are alone
We hate others
in the crowd forlon?