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Favourite Poems

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AyKurt View Drop Down
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  Quote AyKurt Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Topic: Favourite Poems
    Posted: 01-May-2005 at 21:44
Post here some of your all time favourite poems.
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
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  Quote AyKurt Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 01-May-2005 at 21:47
IF
Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
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  Quote AyKurt Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 01-May-2005 at 22:00
To Ruin by Robert Burns

All hail! inexorable lord!
At whose destruction-breathing word,
The mightiest empires fall!
Thy cruel, woe-delighted train,
The ministers of grief and pain,
A sullen welcome, all!

With stern-resolv'd, despairing eye,
I see each aimed dart;
For one has cut my dearest tie,
And quivers in my heart.
Then low'ring, and pouring,
The storm no more I dread;
Tho' thick'ning, and black'ning,
Round my devoted head.

And thou grim Pow'r by life abhorr'd,
While life a pleasure can afford,
Oh! hear a wretch's pray'r!
Nor more I shrink appall'd, afraid;
I court, I beg thy friendly aid,
To close this scene of care!
When shall my soul, in silent peace,
Resign life's joyless day-
My weary heart is throbbing cease,
Cold mould'ring in the clay?
No fear more, no tear more,
To stain my lifeless face,
Enclasped, and grasped,
Within thy cold embrace!
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
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  Quote AyKurt Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 01-May-2005 at 22:05
Self-Pity

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

D. H. Lawrence
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
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  Quote AyKurt Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 01-May-2005 at 22:12
Invictus by William Ernest Henley


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha
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  Quote Guests Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 04:10

 

THE SAIL by Mikhail Lermontov (Russian poet of 19th century)

A lone white sail shows for an instant
Where gleams the sea, an azure streak.
What left it in its homeland distant?
In alien parts what does it seek?

The billow play, the mast bends creaking,
The wind, impatient, moans and sighs...
It is not joy that it is seeking,
Nor is it happiness it flies.

The blue wave dance, they dance and tremble,
The sun's bright ray caress the seas.
And yet for storm it begs, the rebel,
As if in storm lurked calm and peace!..

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  Quote Guests Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 04:18

Another poem that I like very much:

 

I heard the voice. It promised solace.
"Come here," it seemed so softly call.
"Leave Russia, sinning, lost and graceless,
Leave your land, pray, for good and all.
I'll cleanse your hands from blood that stains you,
And from your heart draw back black shame,
The hurts of failure, wrongs that pain you
I'll veil with yet another name."
With even calm deliberation
I raised my hands to stop my ears,
Lest that ignoble invitation
Defile a spirit lost in tears.

ANNA AKHMATOVA

Born near Odessa in the family of the naval engineer. the poetess' real name was Gorenko. Akhmatova spent her childhood in Tsarskoye Selo. In 1907 she graduated from the kiev Gymnasium and went to St. Petersburg to study history and literature at the Higher School for Women. It was in that city where she spent practically the whole of her life. In 1910-1912 she travelled to Germany, France and Italy. Akhmatova's writings were first printed in 1907. This very first books made her famous allover the Russia. They was about love mostly. But later the range of her topics became wider and more complex. The books of Akhmatova published dureing her lifetime were "Evening" (1912), "Rosary" (1914), "The White Flock" (1917), "The Plantain" (1921), "Anno Domini MCMXXI" (1922), "From Six Books" (1940), "Poems" (1960) and "The Flow of Time" (1965). Her masterpiece, "The Requiem", was published only after the fall of the USSR. This large poem was showing the terrible situation in the USSR in Joseph Stalin's time and the truth behind the cult of his person. 

 

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  Quote Scanderbeg Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 12:06

Der Zauberlehrling The Sorcerer's Apprentice
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Translation by Brigitte Dubiel

Hat der alte Hexenmeister Good! The sorcerer, my old master
sich doch einmal wegbegeben! left me here alone today!
Und nun sollen seine Geister Now his spirits, for a change,
auch nach meinem Willen leben! my own wishes shall obey!
Seine Wort' und Werke Having memorized
merkt' ich, und den Brauch, what to say and do,
und mit Geistesstrke with my powers of will I can
tu ich Wunder auch. do some witching, too!
   
   Walle, walle,    Go, I say,
   manche Strecke,    Go on your way,
   dass zum Zwecke    do not tarry,
   Wasser fliesse,    water carry,
   und mit reichem, vollem Schwalle    let it flow abundantly,
   zu dem Bade sich ergiesse!    and prepare a bath for me!
   
Und nun komm, du alter Besen! Come on now, old broom, get dressed,
Nimm die schlechten Lumpenhllen these old rags will do just fine!
Bist schon lange Knecht gewesen: You're a slave in any case,
nun erflle meinen Willen! and today you will be mine!
Auf zwei Beinen stehe, May you have two legs,
oben sei der Kopf, and a head on top,
eile nun, und gehe take the bucket, quick
mit dem Wassertopf! hurry, do not stop!
   
   Walle, walle,    Go, I say,
   manche Strecke,    Go on your way,
   dass zum Zwecke    do not tarry,
   Wasser fliesse,    water carry,
   und mit reichem, vollem Schwalle    let it flow abundantly,
   zu dem Bade sich ergiesse.    and prepare a bath for me.
   
Seht, er luft zum Ufer nieder! Look, how to the bank he's running!
Wahrlich! ist schon an dem Flusse, and now he has reached the river,
und mit Blitzesschnelle wieder he returns, as quick as lightning,
ist er hier mit raschem Gusse. once more water to deliver.
Schon zum zweiten Male! Look! The tub already
Wie das Becken schwillt! is almost filled up!
Wie sich jede Schale And now he is filling
voll mit Wasser fllt! every bowl and cup!
   
   Stehe! Stehe!    Stop! Stand still!
   Denn wir haben    Heed my will!
   deiner Gaben    I've enough
   Vollgemessen!    of the stuff!
   Ach, ich merk' es! Wehe! Wehe!    I've forgotten - woe is me!
   Hab' ich doch das Wort vergessen!    what the magic word may be.
   
Ach, das Wort, worauf am Ende Oh, the word to change him back
er das wird, was er gewesen! into what he was before!
Ach, er luft und bringt behende! Oh, he runs, and keeps on going!
Wrst du doch der alte Besen! Wish you'd be a broom once more!
Immer neue Gsse He keeps bringing water
bringt er schnell herein, quickly as can be,
Ach, und hundert Flsse and a hundred rivers
strzen auf mich ein! he pours down on me!
   
   Nein, nicht lnger    No, no longer
   kann ich's lassen,    can I let him,
   will ihn fassen,    I must get him
   das ist Tcke!    with some trick!
   Ach, nun wird mir immer bnger!    I'm beginning to feel sick.
   Welche Miene! Welche Blicke!    What a look! - and what a face!
   
O, du Ausgeburt der Hlle! O, you ugly child of Hades!
Soll das ganze Haus ersaufen? The entire house will drown!
Seh' ich ber jede Schwelle Everywhere I look, I see
doch schon Wasserstrme laufen. water, water, running down.
Ein verruchter Besen! Be you damned, old broom,
der nicht hren will! why won't you obey?
Stock, der du gewesen, Be a stick once more,
steh doch wieder still! please, I beg you, stay!
   
   Willst's am Ende    Is the end
   gar nicht lassen?    not in sight?
   Will dich fassen,    I will grab you,
   will dich halten,    hold you tight,
   und das alte Holz behende    with my axe I'll split the brittle
   mit dem scharfen Beile spalten.    old wood smartly down the middle.
   
Seht, da kommt er schleppend wieder! Here he comes again with water!
Wie ich mich nur auf dich werfe, Now I'll throw myself upon you,
gleich, o Kobold, liegst du nieder! and the sharpness of my axe
Krachend trifft die glatte Schrfe. I will test, o spirit, on you.
Wahrlich, brav getroffen! Well, a perfect hit!
Seht, er ist entzwei! See how he is split!
Und nun kann ich hoffen, Now there's hope for me,
und ich atme frei! and I can breathe free!
   
   Wehe! Wehe!    Woe is me! Both pieces
   Beide Teile    come to life anew,
   steh'n in Eile    now, to do my bidding
   schon als Knechte    I have servants two!
   vllig fertig in die Hhe!    Help me, o great powers!
   Helft mir, ach ihr hohen Mchte!    Please, I'm begging you!
   
Und sie laufen! Nass und nsser And they're running! Wet and wetter
wird's im Saal und auf den Stufen, get the stairs, the rooms, the hall!
Welch entsetzliches Gewsser! What a deluge! What a flood!
Herr und Meister, hr' mich rufen! Lord and master, hear my call!
Ach, da kommt der Meister! Ah, here comes the master!
Herr, die Not ist gro! I have need of Thee!
Die ich rief, die Geister, from the spirits that I called
werd' ich nun nicht los. Sir, deliver me!
   
  In die Ecke   Back now, broom,
   Besen, Besen!    into the closet!
   Seids gewesen,    Be thou as thou
   denn als Geister    wert before!
   ruft euch nur zu seinem Zwecke    Until I, the real master
   erst hervor der alte Meister!    call thee forth to serve once more!

 

Tolkiens songs/poems are very dear to me, too

panilir
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  Quote Exorsis C Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 14:35

This is one of my favourites:

 

Id like to capture a rainbow

and stick it in a big box

so that,

anytime you wanted to,

you could reach in and pull out

a piece of sunshine.

 

Id like to build you a mountain

that you could call your very own

a place to find serenety

in those times when you

feel the need to be

closer to yourself.

 

Id like to be the one

Whos there with you when youre

lonely or troubled

or just need

someone

to hold on to...

 

Id like to do all this and more

to make your life happy.

 

But sometimes

it isnt easy to do

the things I would like to do

or give the things I would

like to give.

 

So... until I learn how to

catch rainbows and build mountains

let me do for you

that which I know best...

 

...Let me simply be

your friend.

~Jacqueline J. Hancock

 

It always makes me feel better when I read it.



Edited by Exorsis C
Don't put your mouth into motion before your brain is in gear.
Member of "the exclusive group of women on AE".
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  Quote morticia Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 15:05
Very nice Exorsis C!!!

It certainly made me feel better when I read it too!
"Morty

Trust in God: She will provide." -- Emmeline Pankhurst
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  Quote Guests Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 15:09

my sweet old etcetera
aunt lucy during the recent

war could and what
is more did tell you just
what everybody was fighting

for,
my sister

isabel created hundreds
(and
hundreds)of socks not to
mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers

etcetera wristers etcetera, my
mother hoped that

i would die etcetera
bravely of course my father used
to become hoarse talking about how it was
a privilege and if only he
could meanwhile my

self etcetera lay quietly
in the deep mud et

cetera
(dreaming,
et
  cetera, of
Your smile
eyes knees and of your Etcetera)

e e cummings

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  Quote morticia Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 15:50
Here's one of my favorites by Edgar Allen Poe:

It's called " A Dream Within A Dream"

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream!

"Morty

Trust in God: She will provide." -- Emmeline Pankhurst
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  Quote Guests Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 16:19

Dangerous things




Said Myrtias (a Syrian student
in Alexandria; in the reign of
Augustus Constans and Augustus Constantius;
in part a pagan, and in part a christian);

"Fortified by theory and study,
I shall not fear my passions like a coward.
I shall give my body to sensual delights,
to enjoyments dreamt-of,
to the most daring amorous desires,
to the lustful impulses of my blood, without
any fear, for whenever I want --
and I shall have the will, fortified
as I shall be by theory and study --
at moments of crisis I shall find again
my spirit, ascetic, as before."


Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)
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  Quote Paul Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 16:41

Here's one that anyone who's spent a quarter of there life in the far east and then returned to London will understand......

 

Mandalay


Rudyard Kipling

By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say;
"Come you back, you British Soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"


Come you back to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay;
Can't you 'ear their paddles clunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?
On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,


An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

'Er petticoat was yaller an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-Yaw-Lat jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen,
An' I seed her first a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot,
An' wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot:


Bloomin' idol made o' mud--
Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd--
Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!
On the road to Mandalay ...

When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow,
She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing "Kulla-la-lo!"
With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' 'er cheek again my cheek
We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak.


Elephants a-piling teak
In the sludgy, squdgy creek,
Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak!
On the road to Mandalay ...


But that's all shove be'ind me -- long ago and fur away,
An' there ain't no 'buses runnin' from the Bank to Mandalay;
An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year soldier tells:
"If you've 'eard the East a-callin', you won't never 'eed naught else."


No! you won't 'eed nothin' else
But them spicy garlic smells,
An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly temple-bells;
On the road to Mandalay ...

I am sick 'o wastin' leather on these gritty pavin'-stones,
An' the blasted English drizzle wakes the fever in my bones;
Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand,
An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?


Beefy face an' grubby 'and--
Law! wot do they understand?
I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!
On the road to Mandalay . . .

Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there ain't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin', and it's there that I would be--
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea;


On the road to Mandalay,
Where the old Flotilla lay,
With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!
O the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin'-fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

Light blue touch paper and stand well back

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  Quote kotumeyil Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 22-Nov-2005 at 18:42

I posted this in another thread but also fits here:

Thirty-Three Bullets by a Turkish poet, AHMED ARIF

   I.

   This is the Mengene mountain
   When dawn creeps up at the lake Van
   This is the child of Nimrod
   When dawn creeps up against the Nimrod
   One side of you is avalanches, the Caucasian sky
   The other side a rug, Persia
   At mountain tops glaciers, in bunches
   Fugitive pigeons at water-pools
   And herds of deer
   And partridge flocks...

   Their courage cannot be denied
   In one-to-one fights they are unbeaten
   These thousand years, the servants of this area
   Come, how shall we give the news?
   This is not a flock of cranes
   Nor a constellation in the sky
   But a heart with thirty-three bullets
   Thirty-three rivers of blood
   Not flowing
   All calmed to a lake on this mountain



   II.

   A rabbit came up from the foot of the hill
   Its back is motley
   Its belly milk-white
   A mountain rabbit, pregnant, lost up here
   Its heart heaved to its mouth, poor thing
   It can draw repentance from man.
   The hour was solitary, a solitary time
   It was faultless, naked dawn

   One of the thirty-three looked
   In his body the heavy void of hunger
   Hair and beard all tangled
   Lice on his collar
   He looked, and his arms were wounded
   This lad with hellion heart
   Looked once at the rabbit
   Then looked behind
   His delicate carbine came to his mind
   Sulking under his pillow
   Then came the young mare he brought from the plain of Harran
   Her mane blue-beaded
   A blaze on her forehead
   Three fetlocks white
   Her cantering easy and generous
   His chesnut mare
   How they had flown in front of Hozat!

   If he were not now
   Helpless and tied like this
   The cold barrel of a gun behind him
   He could have hidden on these heights
   These mountains, the friendly mountains, know your worth
   Thank God, my hands will not put me to shame
   These hands that can flick off with the first shot
   The burning tobacco ash
   Or the tongue of the viper
   Sparkling in the sun
   These eyes were not duped even once
   By the ravines waiting for avalanches
   By the soft, snowy betrayal of cliffs
   These knowing eyes
   No use
   He was going to be shot
   The order was final
   Now the blind reptiles will devour his eyes
   The vultures his heart.

   III.

   In a solitary corner of the mountains
   At the hour of morning prayer
   I lie
   stretched
   Long, bloody...

   I have been shot
   My dreams are darker than night
   No one can find a good omen in them
   My life gone before its time
   I cannot put it into words
   A pasha sends a codded message
   And I am shot, without inquest, without judgment

   Kinsman, write my story as it is
   Or they might think it a fable
   These are not rosy nipples
   But a dumdum bullet
   Shattered in my mouth...

   IV.

   They applied the decree of death
   They stained
   The half-awakened wind of dawn
   And the blue mist of the Nimrod
   In blood
   They stacked their guns there
   Searched us
   Feeling our corpses
   They took away
   My red sash of Kermanshah weave
   My prayer beads and tobacco pouch
   And left
   Those were all gifts to me from friends
   All from the Persian lands

   We are guardians, relatives, tied by blood
   We exchange with families
   Across the river
   Our daughters, these many centuries
   we are neighbours
   Shoulder to shoulder
   Our chickens mingle together
   Not out of ignorance
   But poverty
   We never got used to passports

   This is the guilt that kills us
   We end up
   Being called
   Bandits
   Killers
   Traitors...

   Kinsman, write my story as it is
   Or they might think it a fable
   These are not rosy nipples
   But a dumdum bullet
   Shattered in my mouth

   V.

   Shoot, bastards
   Shoot me
   I do not die easyly
   I am live under the ashes
   I have words buried in my belly
   For those who understand
   My father gave his eyes on the Urfa front
   And gave his three brothers
   Three young cypresses
   Three chunks of mountain without their share of life
   And when friends, guardians, kin
   Met the French bullets
   Out of towers, hills, minarets
  
   My young uncle Nazif
   His moustache still new
   Handsome
   Light
   Good horseman
   Shoot, brothers, he said
   Shoot
   This is the day of honour
   And reared his horse...

   Kindsman, write my story as it is
   Or they might think it a fable
   These are not rosy nipples
   But a dumdum bullet
   Shattered in my mouth...


                    AHMET ARIF

                Translated by  Murat Nemet-Nejat (1982)



Edited by kotumeyil
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  Quote Guests Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 25-Nov-2005 at 04:40

 

Davet (1943) by FAZIL HSN DAGLARCA 

Davet
    
     Namaza gidiyorum, alay dizilmis,
     Ihtisamimla uzuyor yollar.
     Bazen davet eder klelerim hayata vcudumu:
     "Magrur olma padisahim, senden byk Allah var..."

     Vakti altin gibi serpiyorum,
     Kapisiyor, gen, ihtiyar.
     Sularin ve kuslarin sesleri yanim sira:
     "Magrur olma padisahim, senden byk Allah var..."

     Ben ki kitalar kesfetmisim, nesillerden,
     Ben ki cihan kadar.
     Gndzn bittigi yerler karanlik:
     "Magrur olma padisahim, senden byk Allah var..."


Plea

     On my way to mosque, in full pageant,
     My grandeur makes the roads go through.
     My slaves invite my body to life:
     "Don't be proud, my Sultan, God is greater than you..."

     I scatter time like pieces of gold,
     Young and old get their due.
     The voices of rivers and birds escort me:
     "Don't be proud, my Sultan, God is greater than you..."

     I conquered continents for generations.
     Over the globe I grew.
     Dark is where the daylight ends:
     "Don't be proud, my Sultan, God is greater than you..."

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  Quote Guests Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 25-Nov-2005 at 05:10

The Sorcerer's Apprentice <<< nice... I like it

 

which language was that, German or Albanian?

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  Quote Scanderbeg Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 25-Nov-2005 at 12:52
it was in german
panilir
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  Quote Paul Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 25-Nov-2005 at 13:06

Charles Baudelaire

Au Lecteur

Folly, error, sin, avarice
Occupy our minds and labor our bodies,
And we feed our pleasant remorse
As beggars nourish their vermin.

Our sins are obstinate, our repentance is faint;
We exact a high price for our confessions,
And we gaily return to the miry path,
Believing that base tears wash away all our stains.

On the pillow of evil Satan, Trismegist,
Incessantly lulls our enchanted minds,
And the noble metal of our will
Is wholly vaporized by this wise alchemist.

The Devil holds the strings which move us!
In repugnant things we discover charms;
Every day we descend a step further toward Hell,
Without horror, through gloom that stinks.

Like a penniless rake who with kisses and bites
Tortures the breast of an old prostitute,
We steal as we pass by a clandestine pleasure
That we squeeze very hard like a dried up orange.

Serried, swarming, like a million maggots,
A legion of Demons carouses in our brains,
And when we breathe, Death, that unseen river,
Descends into our lungs with muffled wails.

If rape, poison, daggers, arson
Have not yet embroidered with their pleasing designs
The banal canvas of our pitiable lives,
It is because our souls have not enough boldness.

But among the jackals, the panthers, the bitch hounds,
The apes, the scorpions, the vultures, the serpents,
The yelping, howling, growling, crawling monsters,
In the filthy menagerie of our vices,

There is one more ugly, more wicked, more filthy!
Although he makes neither great gestures nor great cries,
He would willingly make of the earth a shambles
And, in a yawn, swallow the world;

He is Ennui! His eye watery as though with tears,
He dreams of scaffolds as he smokes his hookah pipe.
You know him reader, that refined monster,
Hypocritish reader, my fellow, my brother!



Edited by Paul
Light blue touch paper and stand well back

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  Quote Mila Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 26-Nov-2005 at 19:11
Ms. Sanita Isovic, 1993:

Zemlja nasa
Our land

Sve od Broda do Mostara
Everywhere, from Brod to Mostar

Pobijena nasa raja
Our people are destroyed

Pobijena il' prognana
Destroyed or exiled

I po svijetu razaslana
And scattered around the world

Do juce smo skupa bili
Until yesterday, we lived all together

Zlo i dobro, sve, dijelili
Sharing everything, the good and the bad

A sada nas protjerase
Now they banish us

Iz te Bosne, zemlje nase
From Bosnia, from our own land.
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