I have forsworn you, closed all memory;I work and eat, listen to music, sleep,Walk in the garden, watch the changing moonPretending that I have no need of you.But all the while I know it is not true.Your silence weaves around me such a tight cocoonOf loneliness and sadness, such a deepAnd painful longing that I know it is a fallacyTo feel and say or think that I am free. Anne Ranasinghe Excerpt...
Summertime has been the blossom overAutumn chill has seen off meadow cloverA circling flock of starlings I can seeCome roosting on the rowan berry treeI do so yearn for days of early spring I contemplate the cold October skyA starlit night with frost descendingI shiver at the moon so bright on highWhile deep within a sigh ascendingI do so yearn for days of early spring Considering the snowy...
Could it be that the old sewing machinemy mother gave mewould finally come in handy? You see, my love,You need to be careful.I am a seamstress’s daughter,and every time we kissI yearn to stitch our lips together:It is in my genes. … But then I rememberthe thrill of feeling your breath getting closer,the warmth of your tongue as it reaches out from a distance,and I let your mouth gounattached like...
User Name: VihangPassword: Naik’s poetryVerifying…Characters incorrect.Cancel. Done.Connect. Done.Type tea.It’s a cyber cafe.Search: your third eyelost in the internet.You compute.Is there a softwarefor love or a command?Tell mecan love beprogrammed?Beauty is surf.Surfing beauty.Here there isno boundary.You need nopermissionto enter intoany body’s site.Download bytes.You only needa smooth...
Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brainFull charactered with lasting memory,Which shall above that idle rank remainBeyond all date even to eternity—Or at the least, so long as brain and heartHave faculty by nature to subsist;Till each to razed oblivion yield his partOf thee, thy record never can be missed.That poor retention could not so much hold,Nor need I tallies thy dear love to...
SHE walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that ‘s best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellow’d to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less,Had half impair’d the nameless graceWhich waves in every raven tress,Or softly lightens o’er her face;Where thoughts serenely...
When you find yourself in a faraway landsurrounded by men, animals that mutter strangesounds, do not be afraid: neither you, your parents, nor your ancestors have ever been alone.So trust the earth to bear you up, followthe wind as it leads you through valleys clustered with trees heavy with fruit –some that seem familiar enough to eat,but you still aren’t sure they are the same as the ones you...
J’ai regardé devant moiDans la foule je t’ai vueParmi les blés je t’ai vueSous un arbre je t’ai vue Au bout de tous mes voyagesAu fond de tous mes tourmentsAu tournant de tous les riresSortant de l’eau et du feu L’été l’hiver je t’ai vueDans ma maison je t’ai vueEntre mes bras je t’ai vueDans mes rêves je t’ai vue Je ne te quitterai plus. Paul Eluard (1895 – 1952) Air Vif I looked in front of...
I scanned her picture dreaming,Till each dear line and hueWas imaged, to my seeming,As if it lived anew.
Her lips began to borrowTheir former wondrous smile;Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,Grew sparkling as erstwhile.
Such tears as often ran notRan then, my love, for thee;And O, believe I cannotThat thou are lost to me!
Thomas Hardy (1840 – 1928)
Methought I heard a butterflySay to a labouring bee,Thou hast no colours of the skyOn painted wings, like me.
Poor child of vanity! those dyes,And colours bright and rare,With mild reproof, the bee replies,Are all beneath my care.
Content I toil from morn till eve,And, scorning idleness,To tribes of gawdy sloth I leaveThe vanities of dress.
William Lisle Bowles (1762 – 1850)