Monday, August 30, 2010

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

Sunday, August 29, 2010

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.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

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

Friday, August 13, 2010

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?

Friday, August 6, 2010

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…