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The bonds of matrimony are like any other bonds - they mature slowly.

quote by Peter De Vries
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Into how many parts would you divide the child after Divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many insane parts would you divide your new-born child’s eternal happiness; after your treacherously vindictive divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many heartless parts would you divide your new-born child’s invincible freedom; after your venomously unbearable divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many ribald parts would you divide your new-born child’s unsurpassable creativity; after your lethally unceremonious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many salacious parts would you divide your new-born child’s majestic destiny; after your lecherously ignominious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many emotionless parts would you divide your new-born child’s triumphant spirit; after your contemptuously debasing divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many terrorizing parts would you divide your new-born child’s unbridled fantasies; after your abhorrently cadaverous divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many excruciating parts would you divide your new-born child’s humanitarian blood; after your cold-bloodedly cannibalistic divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many tyrannized parts would you divide your new-born child’s unconquerable artistry; after your violently besmirching divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many reproachful parts would you divide your new-born child’s redolent playfulness; after your despicably devastating divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many sacrilegious parts would you divide your new-born child’s impregnable mischief; after your sadistically bemoaning divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many wanton parts would you divide your new-born child’s impeccable integrity; after your hedonistically carnivorous divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many ghoulish parts would you divide your new-born child’s limitless fertility; after your mindlessly malicious divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many diabolical parts would you divide your new- born child’s infallible innocence; after your unforgivably truculent divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many vengeful parts would you divide your new-born child’s uninhibited cries; after your preposterously bigoted divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many criminal parts would you divide your new-born child’s princely silkenness; after your tempestuously confounding divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many satanic parts would you divide your new-born child’s tiny brain; after your barbarously ungainly divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many sadistic parts would you divide your new-born child’s unlimited curiosity; after your egregiously dastardly divorce?

You might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but into how many carnivorous parts would you divide your new-born child’s parental longing; after your inanely decrepit divorce?

And you might legally divide each other from the bonds of immortal marriage; but tell me; into how many goddamned parts would you divide your new-born child’s immortal love; after your devilishly vituperative divorce?

©®copyright-2005, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Very Slowly

Tick tock
The moonlights hummin
My fingers on the button and my hob-nobs drummin
Slow down were moving too fast
Better wait a minute make the good times last
Ive learned something bout livin
You dont get nothing if you dont stop givin
We both know that we got so much but there aint no rush
Wanna love you slowly
When you slide on down
Wanna love you slowly turn that body round
You wont be able to control me
When your love slow down
Wanna love you slowly slowly slowly slowly
Slowly..
Hold tight
Love is all I need I guess its sweeter when its more than just a tease
Let me hold you close enough to stick
Love is an illusion lets play that trick
Slow hand moving down my back
If you get a chance u feel my heart attack
Real love has never been a crime
Wanna take my time
Wanna love you slowly
When you slide on down
Wanna love you slowly
And turn that body round
You wont be able to control me
When your love slow down
Wanna love you slowly slowly slowly slowly slowly...
Aah...oah...uah...
Slowly...aah...oah...uah...
Slowly... yeah...aah...oah...uah...
If you get a chance you feel my heart attack
Aah...oah...uah...
Real love has never been a crime
Wanna take my time
Wanna love you slowly
When you slide on down
Wanna love you slowly
And turn that body round
You wont be able to control me
When your love slow down
Wanna love you slowly slowly slowly slowly slowly...
Slowly...aah...oah...uah...slowly...aah...oah...uah...
Slowly... yeah...aah...oah...uah...aah...oah...uah...

song performed by Geri Halliwell
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Song Of Spring

The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.

The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.

poem by Katharine Tynan
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Love - Mad And Mature

Mad love leads to terrorism
Mature love gets to Gandhism
Mad love makes one wicked
Mature love makes life sublime

Mad love kindles body
Mature love ennobles the soul
Mad love binds the spirit
Mature love releases the bond

Mad loves brings pain
Mature love provides pleasure

Mad love breeds acrimony
Mature love brings harmony
Mad love hinders progress
Mature love helps success

Discard mad love, develop mature love
Make life pleasant and world a happy house!

poem by Subbaraman N V
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Inertia Creeps

3d
Recollect me darling raise me to your lips
2 undernourished egos 4 rotating hips
Hold on to me tightly Im a sliding scale
Cant endure then you can inhale
Clearly out of body experience
Interferes and dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps
Shes moving up slowly
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Interia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
In my home no chrome as clear as
See me now with my nearest dearest
Been there when Im over-careering
Room shifting is endearing
Between us is our kitchen
Where she finds my irritants itching
Been here before been here forever
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
She comes
There be no sound in my eiderdown
Awake I lie in the morning blue
Room is still my antenna in you
Nylon burns the bedspread with 2
Gravity zero see me stall
I bounce off the walls lose my footing and fall
It can be sweet though incomplete though
And the frames will freeze see me on all 4s
Its been a long time
She comes (x2)
Comes
I want to x you, she comes

[...] Read more

song performed by Massive Attack
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Slowly

Set the mood
light the candles
and bring the wine
I'm wantin you
Been havin this feelin
For sometime now
Come on in
Take off your coat
And stay a while
I Been waiting for this day
Just so we could make love slow

Slowly (I Know)
We'll be (Making Love)
Slowly (All Night Long)
Slowly (I Know)
We'll be (Making Love)
Slowly (All Night Long)

Slip it off yea
show big daddy what he's been missing
Tip it off tip it off
Want you to feel right
When I'm kissing when I'm kissing
Really really wanna take my time
With you pretty baby
If you don't mind
Love you all night long

Slowly (I Know)
We'll be (Making Love)
Slowly (All Night Long)
Slowly (I Know)
We'll be (Making Love)
Slowly (All Night Long)

Slowly (I Know)
We'll be (Making Love)
Slowly (All Night Long)
Slowly (I Know)
We'll be (Making Love)
Slowly (All Night Long)

Come on in
Close the door
Take off your clothes
Drink some more
Holding you close
Holding you tight
Makin love through the night

[...] Read more

song performed by Tank from Force Of Nature
Added by Lucian Velea
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Victim to persecution

Then you talk a little more about your dreams,
How it involves your thought of rings,
a little more about your needs,
for i bit my tounge,
just for a feed,
for you drag me in the street,
ask me to forgive your mistakes,
put me in misery from your plea,
as i buckle from my knees,

It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
but what was it like?
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,

It's perjury on your arm,
that was put there by your soul,
your feeling sorry, for not achieving your goals,
tacking in your argument,
as you stated with your thought,
you bring me down,
and destroy my heart,

It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
but what was it like?
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,

Asking which way is out,
Asking which was not as hard,
Misdirected in your final mount,
as you shout,
cry your lungs out to stay afloat,
yet push me under,
strain to be felt,
pushing me down, holding my throat,
I started to feel the black,
and evil you call your safety boat,

It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,
but what was it like?
It's slowly you drain my life,
It's slowly your evil consumes,

toss in the rope, pull it tight,
you might be something,
but what was it like?

[...] Read more

poem by Matthew Boisjolie
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Drown Me Slowly

I've got a will this time don't care what you say
I've got a feeling this will all go away
It's in the wind this time it's in the southern sky
I can't walk on water yet won't even try
Chorus
So drown me slowly
Enclose me
Drown me slowly alright
Drown me slowly
Enfold me
Drown me slowly
All that I took with me was a bad taste in my mouth
Went all around the world just couldn't spit it out
Just like ground zero was the surface of the sun
That's a sickness I can't fix it not all at once
Chorus
So drown me slowly
Enclose me
Drown me slowly alright
Drown me slowly
Enfold me
Drown me slowly
Don't let them take you down
You'll leave a better world than you found
Don't let them take you down
You'll leave a better world than you found
Don't let them take you down
Don't let them take you down
Don't let them take you down
Don't let them take you down
Chorus
So drown me slowly
Enclose me
Drown me slowly alright
Drown me slowly
Enfold me
Drown me slowly
Drown me slowly
Drown me slowly
Drown me slowly

song performed by Audioslave
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pelleas And Ettarre

King Arthur made new knights to fill the gap
Left by the Holy Quest; and as he sat
In hall at old Caerleon, the high doors
Were softly sundered, and through these a youth,
Pelleas, and the sweet smell of the fields
Past, and the sunshine came along with him.

`Make me thy knight, because I know, Sir King,
All that belongs to knighthood, and I love.'
Such was his cry: for having heard the King
Had let proclaim a tournament--the prize
A golden circlet and a knightly sword,
Full fain had Pelleas for his lady won
The golden circlet, for himself the sword:
And there were those who knew him near the King,
And promised for him: and Arthur made him knight.

And this new knight, Sir Pelleas of the isles--
But lately come to his inheritance,
And lord of many a barren isle was he--
Riding at noon, a day or twain before,
Across the forest called of Dean, to find
Caerleon and the King, had felt the sun
Beat like a strong knight on his helm, and reeled
Almost to falling from his horse; but saw
Near him a mound of even-sloping side,
Whereon a hundred stately beeches grew,
And here and there great hollies under them;
But for a mile all round was open space,
And fern and heath: and slowly Pelleas drew
To that dim day, then binding his good horse
To a tree, cast himself down; and as he lay
At random looking over the brown earth
Through that green-glooming twilight of the grove,
It seemed to Pelleas that the fern without
Burnt as a living fire of emeralds,
So that his eyes were dazzled looking at it.
Then o'er it crost the dimness of a cloud
Floating, and once the shadow of a bird
Flying, and then a fawn; and his eyes closed.
And since he loved all maidens, but no maid
In special, half-awake he whispered, `Where?
O where? I love thee, though I know thee not.
For fair thou art and pure as Guinevere,
And I will make thee with my spear and sword
As famous--O my Queen, my Guinevere,
For I will be thine Arthur when we meet.'

Suddenly wakened with a sound of talk
And laughter at the limit of the wood,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,--
Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pre.

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.

PART THE FIRST

I

In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas,
Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.
Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant,
Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields
Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward
Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended
There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.
Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock,
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.
Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting
Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway.
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles
Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Loving You Forever

The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace.

poem by Hyde
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Loving You Forever

The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace

poem by Chidiebere Franklin
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Matrimony

Well, Im saving this dress for my wedding day
Momma wouldnt have it any other way
She says when she married, her waist was twenty three
I guess Ill never wear it anyway
I dont believe I care to marry
Though I cannot explain exactly why
It somehow seems to me that matrimony is misery
Simply a faster way to die
Im saving all my money for my wedding day
You know my momma wouldnt have it any other way
She says when she married, she didnt have a dime
But I guess Ill spend that money some other way
Because I dont believe I care to marry
Though I cannot explain exactly why
It somehow seems to me that matrimony is misery
Simply a faster way to die
Well, Im saving my best thing for my wedding day
Because my poppa wouldnt have it any other way
He says if I lose it early, Ill have thrown my life away
But I swear Ill use my cherry my own way
I dont believe I care to marry
Though I cannot explain exactly why
It somehow seems to me that matrimony is misery
Simply a faster way to die.

song performed by Whiskeytown
Added by Lucian Velea
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Leszko The Bastard

``Why do I bid the rising gale
To waft me from your shore?
Why hail I, as the vultures hail,
The scent of far-off gore?
Why wear I with defiant pride
The Paynim's badge and gear,
Though I am vowed to Christ that died,
And fain would staunch the gaping side
That felt the sceptic spear?
And why doth one in whom there runs
The blood of Sclavic sires and sons,
In those but find a foe,
That onward march with sword and flame,
To vindicate the Sclavic name,
From the fringe of Arctic snows,
To the cradle of the rose,
Where the Sweet Waters flow?
Strange! But 'twere stranger yet if I,
When Turk and Tartar splinters fly,
Lagged far behind the van.
While the wind dallies with my sail,
Listen! and you shall hear my tale;
Then marvel, if you can!

``Nothing but snow! A white waste world,
Far as eye reached, or voice could call!
Motion within itself slept furled;
The earth was dead, and Heaven its pall!
Now nothing lived except the wind,
That, moaning round with restless mind,
Seemed like uncoffined ghost to flit
O'er vacant tracts, that it might find
Some kindred thing to speak with it.
Nothing to break the white expanse!
No far, no near, no high, no low!
Nothing to stop the wandering glance!
One smooth monotony of snow!
I lifted the latch, and I shivered in;
My mother stood by the larch-log blaze,
My mother, stately, and tall, and thin,
With the shapely head and the soft white skin,
And the sweetly-sorrowing gaze.
She was younger than you, aye, you who stand
In matron prime by your household fire,
A happy wife in a happy land,
And with all your heart's desire.
But though bred, like you, from the proud and brave,
Her hair was blanched and her voice was grave.
If you knew what it is to be born a slave,
And to feel a despot's ire!

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Austin
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Slowly But Surely

(words & music by wayne - weisman)
Slowly but surely Im gonna wear you down
Slowly but surely Im gonna bring you round
To my way of thinking, my way of kissing, my way of lovin
Slowly but surely, Im gonna make you mine
I aint gonna rush ya, Ill let you meditate
Though I wanna crush ya my arms will have to wait
Ill just take it easy, so nice and easy, real cool really
Slowly but surely, Im gonna make you mine
Oh yeah! mm-mm, Ive got a feelin Im not wasting my time
Oh yeah! when you get the message its going to be fine
Slowly but surely, the tables gonna turn
Slowly but surely, your lips are gonna burn
For what youve been missin is my kind of kissin, my kind of lovin
Slowly but surely, Im gonna make you mine
Oh yeah! mm-mm, Ive got a feelin Im not wasting my time
Oh yeah! when you get the message its going to be fine
Slowly but surely, the tables gonna turn
Slowly but surely, your lips are gonna burn
For what youve been missin is my kind of kissin, my kind of lovin
Slowly but surely, Im gonna make you mine
Im gonna make you mine
Im gonna make you mine

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Slowly But Surely (#1)

Slowly but surely I'm gonna wear you down
Slowly but surely I'm gonna bring you round
To my way of thinking, my way of kissing, my way of lovin'
Slowly but surely, I'm gonna make you mine
I ain't gonna rush ya', I'll let you meditate
Though I wanna crush ya' my arms will have to wait
I'll just take it easy, so nice and easy, real cool really
Slowly but surely, I'm gonna make you mine
Oh yeah! Mm-mm, I've got a feelin' I'm not wasting my time
Oh yeah! When you get the message it's going to be fine
Slowly but surely, the table's gonna turn
Slowly but surely, your lips are gonna burn
For what you've been missin' is my kind of kissin', my kind of lovin'
Slowly but surely, I'm gonna make you mine
Oh yeah! Mm-mm, I've got a feelin' I'm not wasting my time
Oh yeah! When you get the message it's going to be fine
Slowly but surely, the table's gonna turn
Slowly but surely, your lips are gonna burn
For what you've been missin' is my kind of kissin', my kind of lovin'
Slowly but surely, I'm gonna make you mine
I'm gonna make you mine
I'm gonna make you mine

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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An Ordinary Truth

A mature morning but with cultural diversity! ! ! ! ! Truth is sealed with maturity and cultural property! ! that's a life of a flower in the wintry morning! !
Whatever truth is understood by the unsaid realizations.
A mature morning but with cultural diversity! ! ! ! ! Truth is sealed with maturity and cultural property! ! that's a life of a flower in the wintry morning! !
Whatever truth is understood by the unsaid realizations.

A mature morning but with cultural diversity! ! ! ! ! Truth is sealed with maturity and cultural property! ! that's a life of a flower in the wintry morning! !
Whatever truth is understood by the unsaid realizations.
A mature morning but with cultural diversity! ! ! ! ! Truth is sealed with maturity and cultural property! ! that's a life of a flower in the wintry morning! !
Whatever truth is understood by the unsaid realizations.
An ordinary truth

poem by Nyein Way
Added by Poetry Lover
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Canto the Sixth

I
"There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, -- taken at the flood," -- you know the rest,
And most of us have found it now and then;
At least we think so, though but few have guess'd
The moment, till too late to come again.
But no doubt every thing is for the best --
Of which the surest sign is in the end:
When things are at the worst they sometimes mend.

II
There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads -- God knows where:
Those navigators must be able seamen
Whose charts lay down its current to a hair;
Not all the reveries of Jacob Behmen
With its strange whirls and eddies can compare:
Men with their heads reflect on this and that --
But women with their hearts on heaven knows what!

III
And yet a headlong, headstrong, downright she,
Young, beautiful, and daring -- who would risk
A throne, the world, the universe, to be
Beloved in her own way, and rather whisk
The stars from out the sky, than not be free
As are the billows when the breeze is brisk --
Though such a she's a devil (if that there be one),
Yet she would make full many a Manichean.

IV
Thrones, worlds, et cetera, are so oft upset
By commonest ambition, that when passion
O'erthrows the same, we readily forget,
Or at the least forgive, the loving rash one.
If Antony be well remember'd yet,
'T is not his conquests keep his name in fashion,
But Actium, lost for Cleopatra's eyes,
Outbalances all Caesar's victories.

V
He died at fifty for a queen of forty;
I wish their years had been fifteen and twenty,
For then wealth, kingdoms, worlds are but a sport -- I
Remember when, though I had no great plenty
Of worlds to lose, yet still, to pay my court, I
Gave what I had -- a heart: as the world went, I
Gave what was worth a world; for worlds could never
Restore me those pure feelings, gone forever.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Don Juan: Canto The Sixth

'There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which,--taken at the flood,'--you know the rest,
And most of us have found it now and then;
At least we think so, though but few have guess'd
The moment, till too late to come again.
But no doubt every thing is for the best-
Of which the surest sign is in the end:
When things are at the worst they sometimes mend.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads- God knows where:
Those navigators must be able seamen
Whose charts lay down its current to a hair;
Not all the reveries of Jacob Behmen
With its strange whirls and eddies can compare:
Men with their heads reflect on this and that-
But women with their hearts on heaven knows what!

And yet a headlong, headstrong, downright she,
Young, beautiful, and daring- who would risk
A throne, the world, the universe, to be
Beloved in her own way, and rather whisk
The stars from out the sky, than not be free
As are the billows when the breeze is brisk-
Though such a she 's a devil (if that there be one),
Yet she would make full many a Manichean.

Thrones, worlds, et cetera, are so oft upset
By commonest ambition, that when passion
O'erthrows the same, we readily forget,
Or at the least forgive, the loving rash one.
If Antony be well remember'd yet,
'T is not his conquests keep his name in fashion,
But Actium, lost for Cleopatra's eyes,
Outbalances all Caesar's victories.

He died at fifty for a queen of forty;
I wish their years had been fifteen and twenty,
For then wealth, kingdoms, worlds are but a sport- I
Remember when, though I had no great plenty
Of worlds to lose, yet still, to pay my court, I
Gave what I had- a heart: as the world went, I
Gave what was worth a world; for worlds could never
Restore me those pure feelings, gone forever.

'T was the boy's 'mite,' and, like the 'widow's,' may
Perhaps be weigh'd hereafter, if not now;
But whether such things do or do not weigh,
All who have loved, or love, will still allow
Life has nought like it. God is love, they say,

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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