A Kiss

A kiss, is all Ah, if only we wouldn't cower about And not take life too seriously We only have to think That we are clay,dust,mortal And that death would visit soon enough If we knew this, If I knew this, I would spend every waking hour Kissing your lips Because when I first did I knew I never wanted to kiss another's lips again ...

Without You

Without you, burning
In dry heat, extreme cold

Without you,sickness
I lie down in weakness

Without you, despair
We are no longer a pair

Without you , bleeding
I hear no birds singing

Without you, sorrow
I bid you good morrow

Without you, hell
Being with you heaven

Without you, pain
Like one who is slain

Without you ,
Without you is dry sorrow
Alas, without you there is no tomorrow.

The Dark Dream

The dark heightened dream
Of falling into shadow
Falling into the oblivion
Falling into the powerful force of love
And from that force ,
The object of your affection pushes you away
Despair.

The bright dream of finding love
The newness , the adventure
Finding joy , laughter
A world with thoughts besides those
Of the object of your affection
Joy.

My dark dream began with a lie
It developed into a game
In which i willingly played
And lost -
But all is not lost
For in all darkness , light must pass
Awake to the light of the morn

Love and Death.From :The collected poems by Sri Aurobindo.

Painting by Ramesh Kumar

i.

In the woodlands of the bright and early world
When love was to himself yet new and warm
And stainless, played like morning like a flower
Ruru with his young bride Priyumvada
Fresh-cheeked and dew-eyed white Priyumvada
Opened her budded heart of crimson bloom
To love, to Ruru; Ruru, a happy flood
Of passion round a lotus dancing thrilled
Blinded with his soul’s waves Priyumvada
To him the earth was a bed for his sole flower
To her all the world was filled with his embrace
Wet with the new rains the morning earth, released
From her fierce centuries and burning suns,
Lavished her breath in greenness; poignant flowers
Thronged all her eager breast, and her young arms
Cradled a childlike bounding life that played
I. And would not cease, nor ever weary grew
Of her bright promise; for all was joy and breeze
And perfume, colour and bloom and ardent rays
Of living, and delight desired the world
The earth was quick and pregnant tamelessly:
A free and unwalled race possessed her plains
Whose heats uncramped by bonds, whose unspoiled thoughts
At once replied to light. Foisoned the fields;
Lonely and rich the forests and the swaying
Of those unnumbered tops affected men
With thoughts to their vast music kin. Undamned
The virgin rivers moved towards the sea,
And mountains yet unseen and the people’s vague


ii.

Winged young imagination like an eagle
To strange beauty remote. And Ruru felt
The sweetness of the early earth as sap
All through him, and short life an aeon made
By boundless possibility, and love,
Sweetest of all unfathomable love,
A glory untired. As a bright bird comes flying
From airy extravagance to his own home,
And breasts his mate, and feels her all his goal,
So from boon sunlight and the fresh chill wave
Which swirled and lapped between the slumbering fields,
From forest pools and wanderings mid-leaves
Through emerald ever-new discoveries
Mysterious hillsides ranged and buoyant swift
Races with our wild brothers in the meads,
Came Ruru back to the white-bosomed girl
Strong-winged to pleasure, She all fresh and new
Rose to him, and he plunged into her charm
For neither to her honey and poignancy
Artlessly, interchanged, nor any limit
To the sweet physical delight of her
He found. Her eyes like deep infinite wells
Lured his attracted soul, and her touch thrilled
Not lightly, though so light; the joy prolonged
And the sweetness of the lingering of her lips
Was every time a nectar of surprise
To her lover; her smooth gleaming shoulder bared
In the darkness of her hair showed jasmine-bright,
While her kissed bosom by rich tumults stirred.



iii.


Was moved a sea that rocked beneath his heart
Then when her lips made him blind, soft siege
Of all her unseen body to his rule
Betrayed the ravishing realm of her white limbs
An empire for the glory of God.
He knew not whether he loved most her smile,
Her causeless tears or little angers swift
Whether held wet against him from the bath
Among her kindred lotuses , her cheeks
Soft to his lips and dangerous happy breasts
That vanquished all his strength with their desire,
Meeting his absence with her sudden face,
Or when the leaf-hid bird at night complained
Near their wreathed arbour on the moonlit lake,
Sobbing delight out her heart of bliss,
Or in his clasp of rapture laughing low
Of his close bosom bridal-glad and pleased
With passion and this fiery play of love,
Or breaking off like one who thinks of grief,
Wonderful melancholy in her eyes
Grown liquid and with wayward sorrow large.
Thus he in her found a warm world full of sweets,
And lived of ecstasy secure, nor deemed
Any new hour could match that early bliss.
But love has joys for spirits born divine
More bleeding-lovely than this thorn less rose.


iv.

That day he had left, while the east was dark,
Rising, her bosom and into the river
Swam out, exulting in the sting and swift
Sharp-edged desire around his limbs, and sprang
Wet to the bank, and streamed into the wood.
As a young horse upon the pastures glad
Feels greensward and the wind along his mane
And arches as he goes his neck, so went
In an immense delight of youth the boy
And shook his locks, joy-crested. Boundlessly
He revelled in swift air of life , a creature
Of wide and vigorous morning. Far he strayed
Tempting for flower and fruit branches in heaven,
And plucked , and flung away , and brighter chose,
Seeking comparisons for her bloom; and followed
New streams , and touched new trees , and felt slow beauty
And leafy secret change; for damp leaves,
Grey-green at first , grew pallid with the light
And warmed with the consciousness of sunshine near;
Then the whole daylight wandered in, and made
Hard tracts of splendour, enriched all hues,
But when a happy sheltered heat he felt
And heard contented voice of living things
Harmonious with the noon, he turned away swiftly
Went homeward yearning to Priyumvada,
And near his home emerging form the green leaves
He laughed towards the sun:’ O Father Sun.’
He cried, ‘How Good It Is To Live , To Love!’

v.

Surely our joy shall never end, nor we
Grow old, but like bright rivers or pure winds
Sweetly, continue, or revive with flowers
Or live as long as senseless trees,’
He dreamed, and said with a soft smile: ‘Lo, she!’
And she will turn from me with angry rears
Her delicate face more beautiful than storm
Or rainy moonlight. I will follow her,
And soothe her heart with sovereign flatteries;
Or rather all tyranny exhausts and taste
The beauty of her anger like a fruit
Vexing her soul with helplessness; then soften
Easily with quiet undenied demand
Of heart insisting upon heart; or else
Will reinvest her beauty bright with flowers,
Or with my hands her little feet persuade.
Then will her face be like a sudden dawn,
And flower compelled into reluctant smiles.’
He had not ceased when he beheld her. She,
Tearing a jasmine bloom with waiting hands,
Stood drooping, petulant, but heard at once
His footsteps and before she was aware,
A sudden smile of exquisite delight
Leaped to her mouth, and a great blush of joy
Surprised her cheeks. She for a moment stood
Beautiful with her love before she died;
And he laughed toward her .With a pitiful cry
She paled ; moaning , her stricken limbs collapsed.
But petrified , in awful dumb surprise,


vi.

He gazed; then waking with a bound was by her,
All panic expectation . As he came,
He saw a brilliant flash of coils evade
The sunlight, and with hateful gorgeous hood
Darted into green safety, hissing, death.
Voiceless he sank beside her and stretched out
His arms desperately touched her face
As if to attract her soul to live, and sought
Beseeching with his hands her bosom.O , she
Was warm , and cruel hope pierced him ;but pale
As jasmines fading on a girl’s sweet breast
Her cheek was, and forgot its perfect rose
Her eyes that clung to sunlight yet , with pain
Were large and feebly around his neck her arms
She lifted and, desiring his pale cheek
Against her bosom, sobbed out piteously,
‘Ah , Love!’ and stopped heart-broken ; then , ‘O Love!
Alas the green dear home that I must leave
So early! I was glad of love and kisses,
And thought that centuries would not exhaust
The deep embrace. And I have had so little
Of the joy and the wild day and the throbbing night,
Laughter, and tenderness, and strife and tears
I have not numbered half the brilliant birds
In one green forest, nor am familiar grown
With sunrise and the progress of the eyes,
Nor have with plaintive cries of birds made friends,
Cuckoo and rain lark and love-speak-to-me.
I have not yet learned the names of half the flowers
Around me; so few trees know me by my name;
Nor have I seen the stars so very often
That I should die. I feel a dreadful hand
Drawing me from touch of thy warm limbs
Into some cold vague mist, and all black night
Descends towards me . I no more am thine,
But go I know not where, and see the pale shapes
And gloomy countries and that terrible stream.
O Love , O Love , they take me from thee far,
And whether we shall find each other ever
In the wide dreadful territory of death,
I know not. Or thou wilt forget me quite,
And life compel thee into other arms.
Ah, come with me! I cannot bear to wander
In that cold cruel country alone,
Helpless and terrified , or sob by streams
Denied sweet sunlight and by thee unloved.’
Slower her voice came now , and over her cheek
Death paused; then sobbing like a little child
Too early from her bounding pleasures called,
The lovely discontented spirit stole
From her warm body white. Over her leaned
Roru , and waited for dead lips to move.
Still in the greenwood lay Priyumvada,
And Ruru rose not from her , but with eyes
Emptied of glory hung above his dead,
Only , without a word , without a tear.
Then the crowned wives of the forest came,
They who had feed her from maternal breasts
And grieved over the lovely body cold
And bore it form him; nor did he entreat
One last look or one last kiss , nor yet denied
What he had loved so well. They the dead girl
Into some distant greenness bore away.



vii.
But Ruru, while the stillness of the place
Remembered her, sat without voice. He heard
Through the great silence that was now his soul,
The forest sounds, a squirrel’s leap through leaves,
The cheeping of a bird just overhead,
A peacock with his melancholy cry
Complaining far away , and tossings dim
And slight unnoticeable stir of trees.
But all these were to him like distant things
And he alone in his heart’s void. And yet
No thought he had of her so lately lost,
Rather far pictures , trivial incidents
Of that old life before her delicate face
Had lived for him , dumbly distinct like thoughts
Of men that die, kept with long pomps his mind
Excluding the dead girl. So still he was,
The birds that flashed by him with their swift small wings,
Fanning him. The he moved, then rigorous
Memory through his body shuddering
Awoke , and he looked up and knew the place,
Saw the old trees and same flowers still bloom.
He felt the slight indifference of the earth
And all the lonely uselessness of pain.
Then lifting up the beauty of his brow
He spoke , with sorrow pale : ‘ O grim cold death!
But I will not like ordinary men
Satiate with cries , and falsely woo thee
And make my grief thy theatre, who lie


vii.

Prostrate beneath thy thunderbolts and make
Night witness of their moans , shuddering and crying
When sudden memories pierce them like swords,
And often starting up at a thought
Intolerable, pace a little , then
Sink exhausted by brief agony.
O secrecy terrific , darkness vast,
At which we shudder! Somewhere, I know not where
Somehow , I know not how, I shall confront
Thy gloom , tremendous spirit , and seize with hands
And prove that thou art and what man .’ He said,
And slowly to the forests he wandered. There
Long months he travelled between grief and grief ,
Relieving thoughts of her with every pace,
Measuring vast pain in his immortal mind
An his heart cried in him as when a fire
Roars through wide forests and the branches cry
Burning towards heaven in torture glorious.
So burned , so immense , his grief within him ; he raised
His young pure face all solemnised with pain,
Voiceless. Then fate was shaken , and the gods
Grieved for him , of his silence grown afraid.
Immortal Agni and to the Uswuttha tree
Shudders to bear the curse lest her young life
Pale with eclipse and all-creating love
Be to mere pain condemned. Divert the wrath
Into my boughs , Uswuttha – thou shalt be
My throne- glorious , though in eternal pangs,
Yet worth much pain to harbour divine fire.’’
So ended the young’s destroyers voice,
And the god consented quietly
In the same noon Ruru ; his mind had paused
Lured for a moment by soft wandering gleams
Into forgetfulness of grief ; for thoughts
Gentle and near-eyed whispering memories
So sweetly came , his blind heart dreamed she lived.
And Ruru turned illumined . For a moment,
One blissful moment he had felt ‘twas she.
So she had stolen up and touched
His curls with enamoured fingers small
Lingering, while the wind smote him with her hair
And her quick breath came to him like spring. Then he,
Turning , as one surprised with heaven , saw
Ready to his swift passionate grasp for her bosom
And body sweet expecting his embrace.
OH, now saw her not , but guilty tree
Shrinking; then grief back with a double crown
Arose and stained his face with agony
Nor silence her endured
‘ O Uswuttha –tree wantonly who thou hast mocked
My anguish with the wind , but thou no more
Have joy of the cool wind nor the green delight,
Shaken and that strong grasp of anguish , flung
His hands out to the sun: ‘ Priyumvada!’
He cried , and at that well loved sound there dawned
With overwhelming sweetness miserable
The old delightful times upon his mind
When he had called her by liquid name,
Where the voice loved to linger. He remembered
Half-angered and his speaking of her name
Masterfully as to a lovely slave
Rebellious who has erred; at that slow
Her sliding towards him and beautiful
Propitiating body as she sank down
With timid graspings deprecatingly
I n prostate warm surrender , her flushed cheeks
Upon his feet and little touches soft;
Or her long name uttered beseechingly,
And the swift leap of her body to him,
And the eyes of large repentance , and the weight
Of her wild bosom and lips unsatisfied;
Or hourly call for trivial needs,
Or sweet unneeded wanton summoning
Daily appealed that never staled nor lost
Its sudden music, and her lovely speed,
Sedulous occupation left , quick breathing
With great glad eyes and eager parted lips;
Or in deep quiet moments murmuring
That name like religion in her ear,
And her calmed look compelled to ecstasy
Or to the river luring her, or breathed
Over her dainty slumber , or secret sweet
The outpantings of her broken name
All these as rush unintermitting waves
Upon a swimmer overborne , broke on him
Relentless , things too happy to be endured
Till faint with recalled felicity
Low he moaned out : O pale Priyumvada’’
O dead fair flower ! yet living to my grief!
Out of my side , and burning , and blind,
O death , that showest not his face beneath the stars
But comest masked , and on our dear ones seizing
Fearest to wrestle equally with love !
To tell thy way. But if , O any strength
In lover’s constancy to torture dwell
Earthward to force a helping hand and such
Ascetic force be born of lover’s pain,
Let my dum pangs be heard. Whoe’er thou art,
Oh bright enemy , death whoever thou art
Lead me to that portal dim. For I
Have burned in fires as cruel as the fire
And lain upon sharper couch than swords.”
But Ruru passioned on , and came with eve
Half-naked , with bright limbs all beautiful –
Delicate they were , in sweetness absolute:
For every gleam and every soft strong curve
Magically compelled the eye, and smote
The heart to weakness .
In his hands he swung . A bow-
Not as human archers use:
For the string murmured like many bees,
And nameless fragrance made the casual air
He on Ruru that fair face
“Who art thou here , in forests wandering ,
And thy young face is solemnised
With pain? Luxuriously the gods have tortured
Thy heart to see such glorious beauty
Agonize in thy lips and brilliant eyes:
Joy and feel strong, clothing in brilliant fire
Tyrants in titan lands. Needs must her mouth
Have been pure honey and her bosom charm
And Ruru replied:
Ah , wherefore wilt thou ask of her to increase
Not a dream of my disastrous soul
Pictures of light and shade , of joys and tears,
Make ordinary moments wonderful
And common speech a charm : knit life to life
With interfusions of opposing souls
And sudden meetings and slow seasons
And drive her to the one face never seen
The wife’s obedient delight
And loving eager service never sated,
And happy lips , and worshipping soft eyes:
The hungry husband’s arms and use
Un wearying of old tender word and ways,
Joy of her hair , and silent pleasure felt
Of nearness to one dear familiar shape.
Nor any of but affections bright
Tears and dumb bitterness and pain unpitied
Racked thirsting jealously and kind hearts made stone
Dire vengeance and impossible cruelties
Cold lusts that linger , loves close kin to hate
And mad insatiable longings pale,
And passion blind as death and as deaf as swords


viiii.
The lover:”O Lover! O beautiful Love!
But if by strength is possible, of body
Or mind, battle of spirit of moving speech
Sweet speech which makes even cruelty grow kind,
Or yearning melody – for I have heard
As if even in her harp
Smitten, the cruel sweetness terrible
Coils taking no denial in the soul
And tears burst out in the hearts of men- and I,
Making perfect music , or with perfect words
Will strive with desperate hands
Match human strength against formidable death
But if with price , ah , what easier!Tears
Dreadful , innumerable I will absolve
Or pay with anguish through the centuries
Soul’s agony and torture physical
So her small hands about my face at last
I feel, close real hair sting me with life
And a palpable breathing bosom on me press
O ignorant fond lover , not with tears
Shalt thou persuade Death
He will not pity thy pangs : nor know
His stony eyes with music grow kind
Nor lovely words accepts . And how wilt thou
Wrestle with that grim shadow, who canst not save
One bloom from fading ? A sole thing
Demanded from all men living , sacrifice
Not without this shall any crown be grasped
Yet many sacrifices are there , oxen
And prayers , and wine , and pious flowers
Blood and fierce expense of mind , and pure
Incense of perfect actions , perfect thoughts,
O liberty as wide as the sun’s,
Or the ruthless labour or disastrous tears,
Exile or death or pain more hard than death,
Absence , a desert, from the faces loved;
Even sin may be a sumptuous sacrifice
Death loves not gifts ; he prefers visits
The pure heart as the stained . Lo, the just man
Helpless over his dead , nor all his virtues
Shall quicken that cold bosom ; near him the wild thief
Kissing dead lips that will not chide with him more
Life is all the pale ghost requires; with half thy life
Is the thread too early cut
Of that delightful spirit – half sweet life
O Ruru , such days
And yet how sweet they are , simply to breathe
How warm and sweet ! And ordinary things
How exquisite , thou then shalt learn when lost
How luminous the day was , mere sleep
How soft and friendly clasping tired limbs
And the deliciousness of common food
And the things indifferent thou then shalt want
Regret rejected beauty, brightness’s
Bestowed in vain , Wilt thou yield up ,O Lover?
Half thy sweet portion of this light , this gladness
Thy little insufficient share , and vainly
Give to another? She is not thyself-
Thou dost not feel the gladness of her bosom
Nor with the torture of thy body will she
Throb and cry out : at most with tender looks
And pitiful attempt to feel move near thee,
And weep how far she is from what she loves
Men live like stars that see each other in heaven
But one knows not the pleasure and the grief
The others feel : he lonely rapture has,
Or bears his incommunicable pain.
O Ruru there are many beautiful faces
But one thyself. Think then how thou shalt mourn
When thou hast shortened joy feelst at last
The shadow that thou hadst for such sweet store
Ruru retorted: “O idle words! For what is mere sunlight?’
Who would live on to extreme old age
Burden the impatient world , a weary old man
And look back on a selfish time ill-spent,
Exacting prodigal of great life
Small separate pleasures like an usurer
And no rich sacrifice and no large act.
Finding oneself in others, nor the sweet
Expense of nature her passionate gusts
Of love , of giving , first of the soul’s needs?
Who is so coldly wise , and does not feel,
How wasted were our grandiose human days
In personal unshared delights?
Why dost thou mock me? Friend of all the stars
How canst thou be a god of love and not know this?
That love burns down the body’s barriers cold
And laughs at the difference – playing with it merely
To make the joy sweeter? O too deeply I know
The lover is not different from the loved
Nor is their silence dumb to each other . He
Contains her heart and feels her body in his ,
He flushes with her heat , chills with her cold
And when she dies, Oh! When she dies , Oh me,
The emptiness , the maim! The life no life
The sweet and passionate oneness lost! And if ,
By shortening of great grief won back , O price
O easy ! O glad briefness , aeons may envy
For we shall live not fearing death , nor feel
As others yearning over loved at night
When the lamp flickers , sudden chills of dread
Terrible; nor at short absence agonise
Wrestling with mad imagination . Us
Serenely when the darkening shadow comes
One common sob shall end and soul clasp soul
Leaving the body with one dim kiss,
Then the joys of heaven we shall consort
Amid the gladness often touching hands
To make bliss sure ; or in the ghastly stream
If we must anguish , yet it shall not part
Our passionate limbs inextricably locked
By one strong agony, but we shall feel,
Hell’s pain half joy through sweet companionship
I weary or words . O wing me rather
To her , my eloquent princess of the spring
In whatsoever wintry shores she roam.”
Dangerous attraction and alarmed delight,
As at a peril near , he raised his eyes

ix.

Thither came Ruru , in a thin soft eve
A glimmering restlessness with voices large
All night with a dim motion gliding down
He felt the dark against his eyelids , felt
Akin a dream more real than daylight
As one who on a shoreless water sails
For ever to a part he shall not win
And when the darkness paled , he heard a moan
Loud Ruru cried across the murmur: “Hear me ,
O , Inarticulate grey ocean , hear,
If any cadence in thy infinite
Rumour was caught from lover’s moan , O sea,
For I would travel to the despairing shades,
The spheres of suffering where entangled dwell
Souls unreleased and the untimely dead
Who weep remembering ,. Thither , O guide me ,
Special disaster .Lo , this petalled fire
How freshly it blooms and lasts with my great pain!”
Horizon on horizon moved
Curving with monstrous menace over him
Alarmed , with anguished fast , the river Ganges deep
Veiled to his eyes , the goddess rose
She with a sound of waters cried to him ,
A thousand voices moaning in one pain :
“Lover , who feardest not sunlight to leave,
With me thou mayst behold that helpless spirit
Lost in the gloom , if still thy burning bosom
Have courage to endure nature’s night
In the dire lands where I am goddess I mourn
Hurting my heart with my own cruelty
I sent cries for you , not meant for human ears
Ruru chilled ;but terrible strong love
Was like a fiery finger in his breast
Pointing him on, so he went
With agony of the soul to the grey waste
He came glad of the pain of passage over ,
A country where no rain arrives
No happy labour of the plough
That silent darkness huge recede
Too hopeless far from grief , pale he arrived
Into a nether air by anguish moved
And heard within him cries that pierced the heart
O bargain hard! Death helps us not ,he leads alarmed
O miserable race of men , foredoomed to live the earth and live brief days
Oh my sweet flower, are you not overwhelmed by this flood?
Ah me , I will haste and deeply plunge
Into its hopelessness and either bring
Thy warm beauty back beneath the stars
Or find thee out and clasp thy tortured bosom
And kiss thy sweet wrung lips and hush thy cries
Love shall draw half thy pain into thy limbs ,
Then we shall triumph glad of agony
He spoke vain words into the listless air:
My soul yearns with sorrow , yet ah, reveal!
If dwell my love in your sad nation lost.
Well may you know her , O spirits
She is the most beautiful of all that died,
By sweetness recognisable . Her name
The sunshine knew, speaking this made tears way
Were she here , her lids run to me
With the old unaltered eyes to my own
We should have understood each other and walked
Silently , hand in hand , almost content
But he did not find her ,


xi.
When he woke , he heard the coil insist
On sweetness and the voice of happy things
Content with sunlight. The warm sense was around him
Of old essential earth , known hues and customs
Near him repeated fierily the note of life
Thrilling he felt beneath his bosom , her;
Oh , warm and breathing were those rescued limbs
With great black hair and real and cheek’s
Old softness and her mouth a dewy rose
For many moments comforting his soul.
With her jasmine body sun ensnared
He fed his longing eyes and , half in doubt
With touches satisfied himself from her
Hesitating he kissed her eyelids. Sighing
She woke , her eyes looked upward to his
She stretched her arms up , yearning and their souls embraced
The twixt brief sobbing laughter and blissful tears
Clinging with all her limbs to him , “Oh , Love ,
The green green world ! the warm sunlight ! and ceased ,
Finding no words; but the earth breathed around them.

Take me along

I want to be where you are
Where I am is to far to parse
If I find which way you go
I want to go along with you
I'm lost , you see
I can't tell what's left or right
I can't refuse you anything
I will follow you to the ends of this earth
To where rivers are wide , mountain-tops high
Otherwise life is a slow stride with a soul of bile
I love you , you see
I do, foolishly , blindly
As only a girl can love
Will you take me with you , wherever you go
Or will you leave me here , to die
To die refusing , if you should leave me
Leave me in despair.

Time

How much longer will you delay
O master , O time ,
Indeed, I chose my fate
Indeed, I chose wrong
But in that mistake -
I fell in love
Yes , I am paying for it
I am paying dearly , each day
Without him there is no air
There is no LIFE
I wonder , shall I ever see him again
Will I? Or will I see him gone
Gone forever , till death and sickness take us
Never to see him again , till the Lord calls our names
We are either doomed or saved
But twixt death and last meeting
In between
Shall I ever see him again?
How long shall I wait , master of life
O Time,
To eternity to see him
I look forward to death and judgment.

Lend me

Lend me thy words , and I -
I shall lend you my ears
Together we shall be in heavy debt
A good debt rather-
For i will listen to you
Till you become a song in my heart
Together bound by the bargain of our love
How my heart calls for you
Might I deny?
Night it calls
Day it toils
It says your nym ; morn , noon and night
Your words like music to my ears
Play on , play on - I urge thee
Sing and hear ,
Just to hear you speak
It rings in my head
I long for a hundred words
I long for a thousand!
Speak , speak again and again
I am in such a state to hear
To feel you , to remember you
I read your letters on and on
I never tire
Oh , how your words flatter
Whatever you say , I pray in thanks
I love thee in such a state
Lend thee thy words
And I?
I shall lend you my ears ,
My eyes ,
My heart ,
My soul ,
My every part.
And together we shall be in the debt of love.

Love is a bell

Say first ,
Speak soon ,
How long i will delay
How long shall i be proud
My quiet is my death
My silence is my pain
Are you also in ill?
Are you also in pain?
Ring that bell
The bell that will signal
That we love alike
But i hear no bell ringing
So you never loved me
You never did
Your silence says it all
Did i not matter even a little
Or even a lot
I hear no bell ringing
Your silence says it all

THE GOOD-MORROW. by John Donne

I WONDER by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved ? were we not wean'd till then ?
But suck'd on country pleasures, childishly ?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers' den ?
'Twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ;
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.

And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear ;
For love all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone ;
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown ;
Let us possess one world ; each hath one, and is one.

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest ;
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without declining west ?
Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally ;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike that none can slacken, none can die.

Weep no more

Enough now
This crying won't do
Enough now
This pining won't do
I became so scattered
After meeting you
I became lost
Lost by my own doing
And now I'm broken head to toe
And there's no truth left anymore
Only lies ,
Greed , gossip and lies
No more
Enough , enough now

I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair by Pablo Neruda.

DON'T GO FAR OFF, NOT EVEN FOR A DAY
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

The Burned Letter by Aleksander Pushkin.

Farewell, Letter of Love! farewell: it’s her desire.
How long did I delay! How long refused, in ire,
I to destroy the single joy of mine!...
Enough! The time has come. Burn, scripts of love divine.
I’m ready; nothing else can call for my sad soul…
Now the greedy flame is touching its form whole…
A minute!… it is flamed and blazing – smoke, light,
With my bitter laments, is flying of my sight.
And now the ring’s stamp forfeited its form previous –
It’s boiling – the seal wax… O, Providence of Heavens!
That’s all! The letter’s leaves are twisted, now black;

On their light ashes their well known track
Is whitening… My heart is squeezed. Oh, dear ashes,
In my sad destiny, my poor consolations,
Forever lie on breast, so fully, fully wracked…

Unlettered

Here I am , poor and unlettered
Longing for the days to read prose's of love
A day where roses are red
Where kisses are sweet
So here I am unmended and unlettered
Waiting for that perfect prose
That moment of true love
The moment of letters and love.

John Donne. The Good Morrow

My face in thine eyes ,
Thine and mine appears,
And two plain hearts in the faces rest,
Where can we find to better hemispheres
Without sharp north , without declining west,
Whatever dies is not mix equally,
IF OUR TWO LOVES BE ONE
AND THOU AND I LOVE SO ALIKE
THEN NONE CAN SLACKEN , NONE CAN DIE.

If , I was in love right now

If, by chance I was in love right now
If , I got God's greatest gift
If , I was in love right now.
I would hope that unrequited love was behind me
And that he that loved me , would mean it so
That he and I would love equally , none over the other
There would be no room for crying , and if there was he would not be the cause
That I would know when to shut up , when to speak softly and when to ask questions
That he would know when to understand , when to flatter and when to ask for help
I would be the greatest cook , and watching something I made of love can he enjoy
That we would never stand to be apart ,
That I could never disguise , and our faults we endure
If , I was in love right now
I'd find rest in his arms , and make my seal
That no other could find rest there or comfort- save me
He would be etched in my heart , with an un-erasable pen
I would never hide , never lie , I'd be blind
But he would not turn me into a fool , for he would be blind too
I would acknowledge that love is a pilgrimage
A journey , a song , lyric and melody
And everyday my face would look longingly into yours
All day everyday .
I would hold your hand , and you would hold my heart
I would do everything I could to love you more and more
And if we got wedded , married on the roof somewhere
You would never age for me , you would remain
The person I loved , the person I chose
If you fell ill , I would nurse you to health
Make tonic and remedies for your quick recovery
If you lost your legs , I would be there to hold your hands
Make thanksgiving for still having you around , you needing me more
If you got older , I would be your shoulder
Oh , if I was in love right now
Today , tomorrow , forever , in love right now.

Of , love and women.

What a sad observation of women and of love
What a generation such as this ,
Where women and love are not valued?
It is true one generation cometh and the other passeth away
How far we are from the age's of Shakespeare
Who wrote sonnets for love , and said
Love is not love , which alters when it alteration finds
Or the days of the gallant Sir Lancelot and the damsels-in -distress
What a delight it must have been for all the maids in Camelot
Or the days of Aphrodite who in beauty and grace was adored
Helen of troy , King Henry the eighth and his mistress Anne.
I see us now so far to what was done
Even when love was a duty it was done dutifully

What have we done?
Look , not far at us now
See what shoes she must wear 7 inch heels
See what hair she must put on , sewn in for length
See what clothes she must wear , where less is more
Are we not enough ?
Just as we are loving , warm and caring
Must we strive to go on diets , to take cosmetic dives
Are we not enough , young men?

One thing you may not know ,
Love is made by God himself and therefore immortal
Women are the source of life and some may argue the cause of it
When Adam defied His Lord and Master in His very garden
Lived in the very near sight of God and defied him for Eve
Could not think of paradise , paradise without her
Now we are all banished to earth , banished to death
But why are we enemies? Why do we not help each other?
What value is a woman ,they say
What man is not a liar , they say

I find that i long for the days of the past
The days of slow dancing , sweet letters , days of duty
For today a husband is not guaranteed , may leave you and your four children
Divorce , separation , hollow relationships dominate our society
Oh , what an age as this where women and love are not valued.

King Henry the 8th's letter to Anne Boleyn.

My mistress and friend,

I and my heart put ourselves in your hands, begging you to have them suitors for your good favour , and that affection for them should not grow less through absence. For it would be a great pity to increase their sorrow since absence does it sufficiently, and more than ever i could have thought it possible reminding us of a point in astronomy , which is , that the longer the days are the farther off is the sun , and yet more fierce.
So it is with our love , for by absence we are parted , yet nevertheless it keeps its fervor , at least on my side , and i hope on yours also: assuring you that on my side the ennui of absence is already too much for me : and when i think of the increase of what i must need suffer would be well nigh unbearable for me were it not for the firm hope i have and as cannot be with you in person .
I am sending you the nearest possible thing to that , namely , my picture set in a bracelet.

Wishing myself in their place when it finally shall please you.
This by the hand of
Your loyal servant and friend.
H.Rex.

Captain Wentworth's love letter to Anne Elliot.

I can listen no longer in silence . I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach.
You pierce my soul.I am half agony , half hope. Tell me not that i am too late , that such precious feelings are gone forever.

I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own , than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago.

Dare not say that a man forgets sooner than a woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you . Unjust i may have been , weak and resentful i have been but never inconstant. You alone brought me to Bath .For you alone i think and plan - Have you not seen this?Can you fail to understand my wishes.

I had not waited even these ten days , could i have read your feelings , as i think you have penetrated mine . I can hardly write . I am every instant hearing something that overpowers me . You sink your voice , but i can distinguish the tones of that voice , when they would be lost on others.Too good , too excellent creature!

You do us justice in deed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men.Believe it to be the most , fervent , most undeviating in.

F.W

Silvia

What light is light ?
If Silvia be not seen?

What joy is joy?
If Silvia be not by?

Unless it be to think that she is by . . .
and feed upon the shadow of perfection

Except i be by Silvia in the night
There is no music in the nightingale

Unless i look upon Silvia in the day
There is no day for me to look upon

She is my essence . . .

The Two Gentlemen of Verona.
William Shakespeare.

Write it out love , someday you will live it out.

Words ,words,words . . .
Present , past of future tense
Rhyme or try to hyphen-ate
I know of words , young man
I know of pie crust promises
Those easily made and easily broken
Don't give me words
Give me your heart
Stir my spirit and un blight my soul
With your love and not your words
Words can deceive ...
Looking for the easiest convenience
Instead look into my eyes , I hide nothing from you
Hold my hand when you want to protect me
Don't say ... just do
And if you find yourself so inclined
Write to me , dear love
For i love letters and poetry among anything
Write it down and one day we'll live it out.

Cynthia . . .

A Shepherd did warily gaze at the moon one fortnight,
Lying on his back chewing on the grass
Inhaling the nights air
Philosophy engulfed him, how the stars aligned,
the beauty of the crimson clouds overhead and constellations that were-
The magnificence of the night overtook him and something stirred within his soul
As if there was something drawing him closer and he finding that he had no objection
Caught by this sudden faction did he shut his eyes
little did he know . . .
Love , beauty was calling him
A place of wonder and daydream . . .

A lady he did see, so fair and he could not make her out
She knew him there yet she did not turn,
The Shepherd asked for the fair lady’s name
Did receive the reply: ‘Cynthia- goddess of the moon’.
The shepherd drawn by her –yet not knowing why so desperately wanted to gaze at her.

A mortal could never gaze upon a goddess,
And such in such divine tone she forbade his seeing her,
For her face was the very night , it's brightness and it's beauty
The light in the dark to be seen by all and not for one..
Even for love . .

He had seen her before, late at night when at the fields
He had seen her before in his dreams as the love of his dreams
So beautiful, pure and generous was she and he feared not being with her.
How could a lowly shepherd love a goddess?

Every night he would gaze into the sky and see her,
Feel an irrevocable bond the unexplainable
He would cry at the bitter night ,where he would feel his own longing
A lovers honest plea
The star-crossed love of a goddess and mortal –

The shepherd declared undying love for her
And Cynthia could not bear to see him so desolate
A bargain she did make , if he proved himself true
True love more potent to the limits of life itself
But at high price to be with her , he only had to love her alone

One condition did she did give: be still do not move,
I must come to you at an unknown time , then thereafter forever
With that the shepherd swore never to love another –

He awoke in the meadow, but there was no darkness
The moons light illuminated his way.
He took his beasts and went back to his lowly dwelling
Every night he would gaze at the moon –
Swearing to wait forever , for Cynthia

A love so close and yet so far ,
When the tidal waves would roar his heart would soar
The seasons came and went , the heat and the cold
Days passed into weeks and weeks months and years
but her words echoed in his memory …do not move…

She was soon forgotten, quietly replaced and became
Nothing but a beautiful fleeting memory
Cynthia it seemed was not real . . .


One mid summer’s night she did emerge to his lowly dwelling–
He thought his senses betray him ,
‘I am arrived.’
Come let us away love
We can now declare our love in the harsh light of day
No more waiting , or hiding
My , why are you so silent?
I know it has been long , but you love me as i you
Then there is nothing to doubt anymore
Our love will bring more beauty and such passion into the world

The Shepherd gazed into her beautiful eyes and could not utter a sound
He had dreamed all his life for this moment
He dreaded to cause her pain , for he saw innocence brimming in her eyes
He had not spoken when his wife curious as to what kept her Husband so long at the door ..


Alas! You have a wife !
But isn’t it always the way with mortals
They are rash creatures with no deep understanding
Anger filled her heart and where love was king
In her wrath she cursed him to never again see the moon
To see her , and his days would be filled in darkness

Oh, cruel love left Cynthia hollow...
She would have made him immortal..
And now
She doomed to be crushed
And he doomed to be dust –ash.

To the Virgins , to make much of Time. Robert Herrick.

Gather ye rose buds while ye may ,
Old time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day ,
To-morrow will be dying.


The glorious Lamp of heaven , the Sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent , the worse , and the worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy , but use your time;
And while ye may go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

There is a lady sweet and kind. Anon.

There is a lady sweet and kind
Was never face so pleased my mind ;
I did but see her passing by ,
And yet i love her till i die

Her gesture , her motion and her smiles ,
Her wit , her voice , my heart beguiles
Beguiles my heart , I know not why,
And yet i love her till i die.

Cupid is winged and doth range,
Her country so my love doth change:
But change the earth , or change the sky ,
Yet i love her till i die.

Child at heart

I want to laugh from my soul,
I want to care and really care
I want to be scared and have her here
I want to lie and get tears
I want to ride on a bicycle
And never fall down
I want to run around with ribbons
I want to smile for no apparent reason

Think him worth thinking of again

She was benevolent , charitable good woman
Capable of few strong attachments ; most correct in her conduct
Strict in her notions of decorum and manners that were held a standard
of good-breeding .
She had a cultivated mind and was generally speaking , rational , consistent - but she had prejudices - the true way to love.
She knew that you cannot find love ... love finds you.
She must retrench - she drew up plans for economy
She made exact calculations
She wanted more rigorous measures , a more complete reformation
A quicker release from his debt , his effects
A much higher tone of indifference for anything but justice and equity.

...yet there it was not love .
It was a little fever of admiration which had all but gone out
but it might , probably must end with love for some

Disguise me what I am .. and be my aid as haply as I shall become

Now that you know all , you can destroy all
Secrets kept in the sheets are soon to be kept in the tongue
We don't have to whisper , she said ...
Another reason to be inadequate at love
Raise your glasses to her ...
Huzzah!
Hear! Hear!
Raise your glasses to her ...
Huzzah!
Hear! Hear!
Oh , but do not utter a word to mother dear
She that hath a strong disposition
Disappoint her I cannot ...
And yet I did ... yesterday
And not even her green gloves can clean away my sin
Cinderella ... oh , no
Me thinks she was terribly dull leaving her fate in the hands of her glass slipper
No , I hardly know why
What good does thinking do ... but what I feel
No , mother your green gloves cannot make me your little girl again
To be a woman at last is no simple task
One but be wary of the heart more than ever
But I writ sins not tragedies
Every minute is a chance to make a mistake
Every minute is a chance to make it right
This time ill start over , ill be witty
Try giving not being a masochist a try
I want to laugh , mother
Please do not see me for who i am now
But what ill become
Disguise me what i am and be my guide , as haply as I shall become.

Unrequited is quite right

Feelings are such terrible things to own
They tease you and tarry you along
As if you turned into a foolish person
Yes, that is what it is
Foolishness
If i were a heartless dame
I would be content
For i cannot let go of the one i fancy
Pity he does not fancy me
I'd often hoped that he did
But love does not tire one and leave the other
In indifference
So if i writ this and say he does
Twill be a falsehood
He is aware of my feelings and affections
Tis not altered his own
For his affections i have yet to behold
Or perhaps never,
Alas! A fair lady such as me
Cannot win the fancy of a lad
Perhaps i speak more than i ought
This displeases him
Or that i had long flowing hair and breasts up to my chin
These would please him
This is all Shakespeare's fault
He said 'Trip no further; pretty sweeting , Journeys end with lover's meeting'
Needless to say, unrequited love was never William Shakespeare's fort.

Of women , of love.

What a sad observation of women and of love
What has become of it , valueless
To find a woman with indefinite attachment and yet
the man can spare none for her
And yet he may share his love with a dozen others
What is just one woman ? No , you would need lots and lots
While some women aspire to find partners based
on degree of looks and wealth
Wealth and appearance are put the peripherals of love
They say love is a battlefield...
Then arm yourself - steady on your feet
Woman you will be subjected to the lying tongue of a man
Or the violent strike and the late night argument
Long ago when love was a duty , it was done dutifully
Am sure it was duly appreciated
Sir Lancelot of Camelot and his Damsel-in-Distress
Since then we have sought to destroy everything
Warnings of Global Warming , the white rhino
Will you destroy love also?
Love claimed greater than death
Biblicilly recognized as the greatest gift of all
Oh, when men would go to war for love
The thousand ships of the beach of troy and the young lovers defying all
Kings , governments , soldiers and peace - all for love
Oh , when writers would write about love like Shakespeare did:
Love alters not when it alteration finds...
When King would defy Lord and Religion for his mistress Boleyn
The age of duels , cloaks laid for chivalry
Alas! What an age
Where women and love are not valued.

The brief tale of the Lady-Dame & the Man-at- Charms.

The Poet:
O what ails thee fair damsel?
See how you lean your arm across your cheek
Is melancholy a visiting?
And yet i remember never seen you in such state.

The Lady-Dame:
Tis nothing of a little and a lot
I know only of myself & little of the world
My inexperience punish'd

The Poet:
Ah!I know what ails you , if it were not just fever or joint pain
See how you speak with such fervour & fiery retribution
A matter of the heart i see
And yet you claimed never to be in such state.

The Lady-Dame:
L'amour , l'amour they all cry
I cannot love , love is dead in my age
To love another is to show weakness
And yet i would , but i was quick rid off

The Poet:
My lady has met her match - The Man-At-Charms
Beware for he is much a feared
His love is most generous where it is most hurtful
He loves another and another and yet another!
And yet you claimed never to love one so . .

The Lady-Dame:
Love .. did the Bard sing it loud to me
Like a song i would listen morn , noon and night
Man-at-Charms in deed , but was i so smitten or was it a passing fleeting
I can never tell . .
I did tire of the role of the lady on the high tower
Away from the world and i wanted my world to collide with another
Why not him , then?
His eyes were wild and i am wild
I was drawn irrevocably to a desire to be adored , or desired
Nay , the lady doth protest
Nay not love , dear poet

The Poet:
I know thee well , virtuous as you are kind-hearted
Deny thy nym , thy true nature
You cannot love like the shells at sea
Testing the waters and leaving them on the empty shores
You are the very ocean,
Deep , wild and with timeliness beauty
Then how can you be much bereaved with him?

The Lady - Dame:
Beauty you say ,
What is the use of beauty if no one is there to appreciate?
If love is a sickness wouldn't his kiss be a cure
I'd be like Sleeping Beauty and finally wake from life
My beauty is wasted on my fears,and he would ignite somehow
Shall i speak of this longing , or am i much at stake?

The Poet:
Speak of plight , and i will but listen:

The Lady- Dame:
I'm ill with the thought of his kiss , laced with wine and sedition
To get these kisses four to tenfold
Had i but got one of this , i could writ ten thousand verses from a single kiss
But starved lips, received no rations and thirst was mistress & friend
Was i mistook?
When a kiss was a cure and i held my breath
What is it that makes men go mad?

The Poet:
I think it well in your favor
That Man-at- charms was aloofness
Did you not see his ways
Tis strange for you have a philosophical mind

The Lady-Dame:
What good does thinking do - but what i feel?
Dear Sir, Dear friend and fellow Poet
You cannot take a measure and make it measure
In life you think , you die so and so

The Poet:
You cannot be run away with feeling
Or misery shall be mistress & friend

The Lady-Dame:
Misery is my old friend ,offenses against me misery attempts at them
What of bitterness , she keeps me warm at night
For without the sour the sweet cannot be sweet
And yet i would be goaded to say i
Eat plentifully the bitter fruits of life

And i said never to be in such state:
Am i not a human being with warm blood running through my veins
And yet bear in mind - i am a prisoner of my doing
Paralyzed by deception and pain from early years
But its time like these you learn to live again
I am one and twenty
I am much guarded for my heart , my very being , my essence

The Poet:
All the more to wait for your white knight?

The Lady- Dame:
This is not the age of Camelot , and i am no Damsel-in -Distress
Why think me naivete just as Man-at -Charms
In this day & age there is no real love
No Brave & Gallant Sir.Lancelot on his white horse
With no ill intent or malicious design
Today we have , men with ill consequence
Our media , books & songs they make it lust, comic or games
You dare offer a remedy?

The Poet:
I dare not
But this reflection , be not afraid to give your heart
Life is cruel to be sure , but time malicious teacher will prove thee wrong

The Lady-Dame:
Oh ,the world can spin so madly, love can end so badly
Stories will end so sadly,
But he does not have my heart-ache so things will not end so badly.