×
Hyrja
Profili

Poems in English

Poems in English

· 159 · 15823

  • Postime: 12151
  • Gjinia: Femer

#150 ne: 29-05-2012, 23:29:20
Love

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
   I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
   Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
   I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
your eyes.
   Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
   Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
   I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
window.
   Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.

 Neruda

  • Postime: 12151
  • Gjinia: Femer

#151 ne: 29-05-2012, 23:30:59
Your Laughter

Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.

Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.

My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.

My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.

Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.

Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.

Neruda

  • Postime: 12151
  • Gjinia: Femer

#152 ne: 29-05-2012, 23:54:43
Alone

Alone - I think I need a place alone.
After all, alone is being free - alone
From all the other lonely souls.

Oh to live alone in only solitude;
I'll plot a course alone for rectitude,
So then corruption will desist: so
Alone, the prodding by detractors won't exist!

Alone, I'll cry; sink alone to depths of
Solitude that only are achieved alone.
I'll be relieved, alone - received alone by me;
Peek at my reflection in the pond - alone to see.

When alone I have no love to seek, or fear
Of ending up alone from being jilted:
Laughing at the alter; me alone; 'Dear oh dear'
To hear them say, 'Now he's alone – tilted
Forward at the brink - like us, he'll be alone.'

Mark R Slaughter

  • Postime: 12151
  • Gjinia: Femer

#153 ne: 18-02-2013, 17:58:08
Raw With Love

Little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
I won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
I won't blame you,
instead
I will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and I won't use it
yet.


Charles Bukowski

  • Postime: 12151
  • Gjinia: Femer

#154 ne: 18-02-2013, 18:45:22
These Things

these things that we support most well
have nothing to do with up,
and we do with them
out of boredom or fear or money
or cracked intelligence;
our circle and our candle of light
being small,
so small we cannot bear it,
we heave out with Idea
and lose the Center:
all wax without the wick,
and we see names that once meant
wisdom,
like signs into ghost towns,
and only the graves are real.


Anonymous submission.


Charles Bukowski

  • Postime: 12151
  • Gjinia: Femer

#155 ne: 07-05-2013, 13:33:58
DARKNESS

by: George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)

        I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
        The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
        Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
        Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
        Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
        Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,
        And men forgot their passions in the dread
        Of this their desolation; and all hearts
        Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
        And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones,
        The palaces of crowned kings--the huts,
        The habitations of all things which dwell,
        Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd,
        And men were gather'd round their blazing homes
        To look once more into each other's face;
        Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
        Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
        A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
        Forests were set on fire--but hour by hour
        They fell and faded--and the crackling trunks
        Extinguish'd with a crash--and all was black.
        The brows of men by the despairing light
        Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
        The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
        And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
        Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd;
        And others hurried to and fro, and fed
        Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up
        With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
        The pall of a past world; and then again
        With curses cast them down upon the dust,
        And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd
        And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
        And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
        Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd
        And twin'd themselves among the multitude,
        Hissing, but stingless--they were slain for food.
        And War, which for a moment was no more,
        Did glut himself again: a meal was bought
        With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
        Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
        All earth was but one thought--and that was death
        Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
        Of famine fed upon all entrails--men
        Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
        The meagre by the meagre were devour'd,
        Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
        And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
        The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
        Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
        Lur'd their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
        But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
        And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
        Which answer'd not with a caress--he died.
        The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
        Of an enormous city did survive,
        And they were enemies: they met beside
        The dying embers of an altar-place
        Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
        For an unholy usage; they rak'd up,
        And shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands
        The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
        Blew for a little life, and made a flame
        Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
        Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
        Each other's aspects--saw, and shriek'd, and died--
        Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
        Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
        Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
        The populous and the powerful was a lump,
        Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless--
        A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay.
        The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still,
        And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths;
        Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
        And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd
        They slept on the abyss without a surge--
        The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
        The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before;
        The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
        And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need
        Of aid from them--She was the Universe.

  • Postime: 414
  • Gjinia: Mashkull

#156 ne: 02-06-2013, 19:01:03
"I carry your heart with me"   E. E. Cummings

I carry your heart with me(I carry it in
my heart)
I am never without it(anywhere
I go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
I fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you..

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart(I carry it in my heart)..


 :)

  • Postime: 12151
  • Gjinia: Femer

#157 ne: 05-06-2013, 20:35:55
NIGHTWISH
She Is my Sin

Take heed, dear heart
Once apart, she can touch nor me nor you
Dressed as one
A wolf will betray a lamb.

Lead astray the gazers
The razors on your seducing skin
In the meadow of sinful thoughts
Every flower's perfect

To paradise with pleasure haunted by fear

A sin for him
Desire within
A burning veil
For the bride too dear for him
A sin for him
Desire within
Fall in love with your deep dark sin

I am the Fallen
You are what my sins enclose
Lust is not as creative
As its discovery

To paradise with pleasure haunted by fear

A sin for him...

Bless me, undress me
Pick your prey in a wicked way
God I must confess...
...I do envy the sinners...

  • Postime: 12151
  • Gjinia: Femer

#158 ne: 07-06-2013, 09:54:44
I Cry

Sometimes when I'm alone
I Cry,
Cause I am on my own.
The tears I cry are bitter and warm.
They flow with life but take no form
I Cry because my heart is torn.
I find it difficult to carry on.
If I had an ear to confide in,
I would cry among my treasured friend,
but who do you know that stops that long,
to help another carry on.
The world moves fast and it would rather pass by.
Then to stop and see what makes one cry,
so painful and sad.
And sometimes...
I Cry
and no one cares about why.

Tupac Shakur

Temat e fundit