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A belief may be larger than a fact.

quote by Vannevar Bush
Added by Lucian Velea
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How beautiful is

How beautiful is the Belief, when we belief in the God
How beautiful are the Creatures, when we belief in the Creator
How beautiful is the Motherhood, when we belief in the Sacrifices
How beautiful is the Fatherhood, when we belief in the Battles
How beautiful is the Childhood, when we belief in the Innocence
How beautiful is the Dream, when we belief in the Ambition
How beautiful is the Contentment, when we belief in the Simplicity
How beautiful is the Life, when we belief in the dead
How beautiful is the Love, when we belief in the Care
How beautiful is the Happiness, when we belief in the Sadness
How beautiful is the Relationships, when we belief in the Tender
How beautiful is the Fruit, when we belief in the Farming
How beautiful is the Confidence, when we belief in Our self
How beautiful is the Beauty, when we belief in Our eyes
How beautiful is the World, when we belief in Peace
How beautiful is the Friendship, when we belief in Brotherhood
How beautiful is the Marriage, when we belief in Sharing
How beautiful is the World, when we belief in the Peace

poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
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Larger Than Life

If you want to make believe
Theres nothing up my sleeve
Im a man as man can be
As you can plainly see
Dont want to see no tears
Eliminate your fears
When you think youve seen it all, baby
You cant believe your eyes, what you heard werent lies
My love is too much to hold, too much to hold
Much to much
Im someone you cant fight
Im plain in size
You cant believe your eyes
What you heard were not lies
Im too much to hold
I cant be bought or sold
Im far more than a man
Im gonna make you understand
Im larger than a life size man
And you cant believe your eyes, what you heard werent lies
My love is too much to hold, too much to hold
My love is larger than life, ooh larger than life
My love is larger than life, larger than life
My love is too much to hold, it cant be sold, oh no
You cant believe your eyes, what you heard werent lies
My love is too much to hold, too much to hold
My love is larger than life, larger than life
My love is larger than life, larger than life
My love is too much to hold, it cant be sold, oh no
Im larger than a life size man
My love is larger than life, larger than life
My love is larger than life, ooh larger than life
My love is too much to hold, it cant be sold, oh no

song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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0978..... Belief Vs Trust

Belief is Doubtful, Trust is Certain
Belief is from Mind, Trust is from Heart
Belief is Lip Service; Trust is Heart Felt
Believe many; Trust only a Few
Believing is Easy, Trusting is Hard
Belief scores 50%, Trust scores 100%
Belief is Ordinary; Trust is Extra-ordinary
Belief is Start point; Trust is End Point
Belief is Limited; Trust is infinite
Belief is Shaking Hands, Trust is Embracing
Belief keeps Control; Trust gives up control
Belief is jumping opportunities; Trust is staying
Belief is not Time Tested; Trust passes Tough Times
Belief is Partial; Trust is Complete
Believe in Thoughts; Trust your Intuition
Belief in God is Attempting; Trust in God is Surrender
Belief is Important; Trust is Essential
Belief is Plastic Rose; Trust is Real Rose

(23-June-2010, Chennai)

poem by Gan Chennai
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As A Matter Of Fact

Written by s. garrett & d. boyette
Blow daddy, aww, yeah
Here we are, standing at the hard line
We made it last this long
The two of us, together since the first time
And I believe our love is still strong
Seems love has a funny way
Well, it can come or go or it can choose to stay
But love says what it has to say
(chorus)
Matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
I love you (oh, as a matter of fact)
And I love that you love me back
As a matter of fact (ooh, as a matter, a matter)
Some said we wouldnt make it this far
But they dont talk no more (no more)
The love we share is precious as a big star
And what we haves what others hope for
Seems love has a funny way
Well, it can come or go or it can choose to stay
But love says what it has to say
(chorus)
Matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
I need you (oh, as a matter of fact)
And Im glad that you need me back
As a matter of fact (ooh, as a matter, a matter)
Mm, matter of fact, yeah (ooh as a matter of fact)
I want you (yeah, as a matter of fact)
And I cant tell you more than that
As a matter of fact, (ooh, as a matter) yeah (matter)
Aww, blow, daddy
Musical interlude
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Seems love has a funny way
Well, it can come and go or it can choose to stay
But love says what it has to say
(repeat chorus)
Matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
I love you (oh, as a matter of fact)
Yeah and I love that you love me back
As a matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
Ooh, ooh, baby
Matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
I need you (yeah, as a matter of fact)
And Im glad that you need me right back
As a matter of fact
(ooh, as a matter) yeah (a matter)

song performed by Natalie Cole
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hunting Of Pau-Puk Keewis, The

Full of wrath was Hiawatha
When he came into the village,
Found the people in confusion,
Heard of all the misdemeanors,
All the malice and the mischief,
Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis.
Hard his breath came through his nostrils,
Through his teeth he buzzed and muttered
Words of anger and resentment,
Hot and humming, like a hornet.
"I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Slay this mischief-maker!" said he.
"Not so long and wide the world is,
Not so rude and rough the way is,
That my wrath shall not attain him,
That my vengeance shall not reach him!"
Then in swift pursuit departed
Hiawatha and the hunters
On the trail of Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Through the forest, where he passed it,
To the headlands where he rested;
But they found not Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Only in the trampled grasses,
In the whortleberry-bushes,
Found the couch where he had rested,
Found the impress of his body.
From the lowlands far beneath them,
From the Muskoday, the meadow,
Pau-Puk-Keewis, turning backward,
Made a gesture of defiance,
Made a gesture of derision;
And aloud cried Hiawatha,
From the summit of the mountains:
"Not so long and wide the world is,
Not so rude and rough the way is,
But my wrath shall overtake you,
And my vengeance shall attain you!"
Over rock and over river,
Through bush, and brake, and forest,
Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis;
Like an antelope he bounded,
Till he came unto a streamlet
In the middle of the forest,
To a streamlet still and tranquil,
That had overflowed its margin,
To a dam made by the beavers,
To a pond of quiet water,
Where knee-deep the trees were standing,
Where the water lilies floated,
Where the rushes waved and whispered.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Hunting Of Pau-Puk Keewis

Full of wrath was Hiawatha
When he came into the village,
Found the people in confusion,
Heard of all the misdemeanors,
All the malice and the mischief,
Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis.
Hard his breath came through his nostrils,
Through his teeth he buzzed and muttered
Words of anger and resentment,
Hot and humming, like a hornet.
"I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Slay this mischief-maker!" said he.
"Not so long and wide the world is,
Not so rude and rough the way is,
That my wrath shall not attain him,
That my vengeance shall not reach him!"
Then in swift pursuit departed
Hiawatha and the hunters
On the trail of Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Through the forest, where he passed it,
To the headlands where he rested;
But they found not Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Only in the trampled grasses,
In the whortleberry-bushes,
Found the couch where he had rested,
Found the impress of his body.
From the lowlands far beneath them,
From the Muskoday, the meadow,
Pau-Puk-Keewis, turning backward,
Made a gesture of defiance,
Made a gesture of derision;
And aloud cried Hiawatha,
From the summit of the mountains:
"Not so long and wide the world is,
Not so rude and rough the way is,
But my wrath shall overtake you,
And my vengeance shall attain you!"
Over rock and over river,
Through bush, and brake, and forest,
Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis;
Like an antelope he bounded,
Till he came unto a streamlet
In the middle of the forest,
To a streamlet still and tranquil,
That had overflowed its margin,
To a dam made by the beavers,
To a pond of quiet water,
Where knee-deep the trees were standing,
Where the water lilies floated,
Where the rushes waved and whispered.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Song Of Hiawatha XVII: The Hunting Of Pau-Puk Keewis

Full of wrath was Hiawatha
When he came into the village,
Found the people in confusion,
Heard of all the misdemeanors,
All the malice and the mischief,
Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis.
Hard his breath came through his nostrils,
Through his teeth he buzzed and muttered
Words of anger and resentment,
Hot and humming, like a hornet.
'I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Slay this mischief-maker!' said he.
'Not so long and wide the world is,
Not so rude and rough the way is,
That my wrath shall not attain him,
That my vengeance shall not reach him!'
Then in swift pursuit departed
Hiawatha and the hunters
On the trail of Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Through the forest, where he passed it,
To the headlands where he rested;
But they found not Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Only in the trampled grasses,
In the whortleberry-bushes,
Found the couch where he had rested,
Found the impress of his body.
From the lowlands far beneath them,
From the Muskoday, the meadow,
Pau-Puk-Keewis, turning backward,
Made a gesture of defiance,
Made a gesture of derision;
And aloud cried Hiawatha,
From the summit of the mountains:
'Not so long and wide the world is,
Not so rude and rough the way is,
But my wrath shall overtake you,
And my vengeance shall attain you!'
Over rock and over river,
Through bush, and brake, and forest,
Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis;
Like an antelope he bounded,
Till he came unto a streamlet
In the middle of the forest,
To a streamlet still and tranquil,
That had overflowed its margin,
To a dam made by the beavers,
To a pond of quiet water,
Where knee-deep the trees were standing,
Where the water lilies floated,
Where the rushes waved and whispered.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Added by Poetry Lover
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I. The Ring and the Book

Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,
Effects a manageable mass, then works:
But his work ended, once the thing a ring,
Oh, there's repristination! Just a spirt
O' the proper fiery acid o'er its face,
And forth the alloy unfastened flies in fume;
While, self-sufficient now, the shape remains,
The rondure brave, the lilied loveliness,
Gold as it was, is, shall be evermore:
Prime nature with an added artistry—
No carat lost, and you have gained a ring.
What of it? 'T is a figure, a symbol, say;
A thing's sign: now for the thing signified.

Do you see this square old yellow Book, I toss
I' the air, and catch again, and twirl about
By the crumpled vellum covers,—pure crude fact
Secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard,
And brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since?
Examine it yourselves! I found this book,
Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,
(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,
Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,
One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,
Across a Square in Florence, crammed with booths,
Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time,
Toward Baccio's marble,—ay, the basement-ledge
O' the pedestal where sits and menaces
John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,
'Twixt palace and church,—Riccardi where they lived,
His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Bishop Blougram's Apology

No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.

So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
—Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Faith in Belief - Coping Strategy

Must have faith or what else is left?
Lack of faith, sorrow bereft
Belief in a God, nature, galactic deities
Even atheistic belief gives some amenities

Belief in self to succeed
The need to daily feed
Belief in love, seeking to thrive
Faith in thriving to stay alive

Those with no faith to look forward to
Stranded, without a helping clue
Grasp a belief enabling you to cope
One that brings fulfillment with hope

Faith in music unbound
Open ears to the acoustic sound
Sweet rhythms renowned
Belief that art opens the way
Creative devotion bless the day

For some, blind faith is better than none
Others may curse their belief, ready to abscond
Seek a belief peaceful, considerate
Avoid following the fanatical illiterate

The three C’s of hardiness agility
Commitment, Control, Creative ability
Deliver strong sustainability

Belief in Joy and Happiness, treasured gold
Warm goodness and kindness never cold
Resolve persistent griefs
With faith in positive beliefs

(September 2008)

poem by Joshua C. Whiting
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Two Fuse

Interactive,
And a catalyst that captures...
And a catalyst that captures,
Manufactures what it matches...
To attach and sack a catch.

Two fuse and they become attracted,
To be seen as a known fact.

Interactive,
And a catalyst that captures...
Factors in and snatches fast.

Interactive,
And a catalyst that captures...
And a catalyst that captures,
Manufactures what it matches...
To attach and sack a catch.

Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and they become attracted,
To be seen as a known fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.

Interactive,
And a catalyst that captures...
Factors in and snatches fast.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and they become attracted,
To be seen as a known fact.

Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.
Two fuse and this becomes a fact.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Son Of Vera

I'm - the son of Vera...
I did not write you the letters for long,
Vera Pavlovna.
Winds have carried me away,
Winds were singing me a song
Once - impudently,
The other time - terribly,
At last - plaintively.

I'm - the son of Vera.
Oh, how did you help me, mother!
Mama Vera...
You embraced me on the empty stations, mama Vera.
I'm - the son of Vera.
You were waiting for the useless son to be back, mama Vera...
And you asked me to write
in my letters the only truth, mama Vera...

I'm - the son of Vera!
The Belief not into god, not in angels, not in the next world!
I'm - the son of belief in sun,
Which is shining through the tatters of clouds!
I'm - the son of belief in the labour of a man,
In the flowers on the burnt earth.

I'm - the son of belief!
The belief in the silence under the torture!
And in the song before the execution!
I'm - the son of belief in the terrestial love,
dazzling as a miracle.
I'm - the son of belief in the Morrow
such as I wish it to be!
And in the people, who are wide as a road!
Sincere, and worthy...

I'm - the son of belief, I despise ninnies!
I hate ones, whining and groaning! ..
I write to you only the truth, mama Vera.
Only the truth...

Only here is much a business!
Forgive me,
I'll not be back soon...

poem by Robert Rozhdestvensky, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
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Mermaid In The Night

Mermaid in the night
By: roger guth, jay oliver
1989
I went out fishin on a sandy beach
Cast my line out as far as it would reach
Lookin for somethin for the fryin pan
I kick back with a beer in my hand
I mustve got a big one cause its bendin my pole
Im havin to fight just to keep control
It could be a whale God only knows
Whatever it is its not wearin any clothes
Chorus:
Shes larger than life
Made from holy water
Shes covered in green and got
Little scales upon her
Shes larger than life
Shea a mermaid in the night
Shes got a set of gills like no fish Ive ever seen
Long blond hair and a tail in between
Im in love with a creature from the sea
She brings out the crustacean in me
Her voice is a temptation its a siren song
When we kiss there can be no wrong
I ask her to marry me and be my wife
Do the backstroke the rest of our lives
Chorus:
Shes larger than life
Made from holy water
Shes covered in green
Shes got little scales upon her
Shes larger than life
Shes a mermaid in the night
Shes larger than life
Made from holy water
Shes covered in green and got
Little scales upon her
Shes larger than life
Shes a mermaid in the night
Mermaid in the night
Little mermaid in the night
-- spoken:
I think Ill have the catch of the day

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Shes Actual Size

Words fail
Buildings tumble
The ground opens wide
Light beams down from heaven
She stands before my eyes
Shes actual size, but she seems much bigger to me
Squares may look distant in her rear view mirror but theyre actual size
As she drives away
Big men
Often tremble
As they step aside
I thought I was big once
She changed my mind
Shes actual size, but she seems much bigger to me.
Ive never known anybody like her, shes actual size
Nationwide, believe
Shes got
All the money
Money couldnt buy
Shes got something special
That someone left behind
Shes actual size, but she seems much bigger to me
Squares may look distant in her rear view mirror but theyre actual size
Actual size to her
Her face
Hangs in portrait
On the post office wall
Shes stuck in my heart now
Where my blood belongs
Shes actual size, but she seems much bigger to me
Ive never known anybody like her, shes actual size
Actual size, believe
Notes
Heres the best guess so far about the lyrics to larger than life. please give input. I need help with all of the reggae lyrics!
Shes actual size, but she seems much bigger to me
Words fail
Buildings tumble
The ground opens wide
Light beams down from heaven
She stands before my eyes
Shes actual size, but she seems much bigger to me
Squares may look distant in her rear view mirror but theyre actual size
As she drives away
Big men
Often tremble
As they step aside
I thought I was big once
She changed my mind
Shes actual size, but she seems much bigger to me
Ive never known anybody like her, shes actual size

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song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,
Ye summon to a task shall test his worth,
And manufacture, as he knows and can,
A work may decorate a palace-wall,
Afford my lords their Holy Family,—
Hath it escaped the acumen of the Court
How such a painter sets himself to paint?
Suppose that Joseph, Mary and her Babe
A-journeying to Egypt, prove the piece:
Why, first he sedulously practiseth,
This painter,—girding loin and lighting lamp,—
On what may nourish eye, make facile hand;
Getteth him studies (styled by draughtsmen so)
From some assistant corpse of Jew or Turk
Or, haply, Molinist, he cuts and carves,—
This Luca or this Carlo or the like.
To him the bones their inmost secret yield,
Each notch and nodule signify their use:
On him the muscles turn, in triple tier,
And pleasantly entreat the entrusted man
"Familiarize thee with our play that lifts
"Thus, and thus lowers again, leg, arm and foot!"
—Ensuring due correctness in the nude.
Which done, is all done? Not a whit, ye know!
He,—to art's surface rising from her depth,—
If some flax-polled soft-bearded sire be found,
May simulate a Joseph, (happy chance!)—
Limneth exact each wrinkle of the brow,
Loseth no involution, cheek or chap,
Till lo, in black and white, the senior lives!
Is it a young and comely peasant-nurse

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Odessa - My Principessa

About many famous cities we can talk:
London, Paris, Naples or New York,
But when you walk along Odessa
You will love our principessa
If you are wise enough and not a bore.

The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

You will smile to the famous Duke,
From the second hatch at him you'll look
And if he gives you the welcoming hand
You will have to understand

That Odessa is the smile of God.
The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

The girls in our city are the pearls,
God gave them sense of humor and a charm.
You come here and you will see
The beauty of the bluest sea
And you will be surprised but not alarmed.

The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

And Sasha Pushkin was an odessite,
As here he recalled a wonderous moment
He cursed and praised our and his Odessa
Because he really loved principessa,
Which was and is and always bright.

The fact is such,
The fact is such:
There's no city in the world
I love so much.

You can go any place you like
To New York, Paris or even London,
All of them are really so nice,
But in Odessa you'll be certainly surprised
By the smell of sea, acacia, cherry, linden...

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poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Added by Poetry Lover
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I Hate The Fact

I hate the fact
that one can steal your heart
and leave it broken in many parts
I hate the fact
that one can make you feel
but then you looked he had turned the wheel
I hate the fact
that one can catch your eye
and finally find it was for a while
I hate the fact
that one can sweep you off your feet
into a fantasy that only you could feel
I hate the fact
that when you hear ones name
you remember he was once your dame
I hate the fact
that you had to go
and you left me here with a broken soul
I hate the fact
that love was there
but left me in pain that one cant bare
I hate the fact
that memories hurt
and that nothing ever seems to ever work
I hate the fact
that i cry so much
that everyday i long to feel your touch
I hate the fact
that i cant move on
but maybe its something that can make me strong

poem by Miri Tuecemo
Added by Poetry Lover
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