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Maa

Meri maa bhi sab maaon jaisi hai
Zindgi ki tap ti dhoop mai thandi chhaon jaisi hai
bin maange jo aarzoo ho puri
mere dil se jo nikli,
unn duaaon jaisi hai
jab jab hua mann pareshan
zindgi mai..
Ujde registaan mai thandi ghataaon jaisi hai..
Nahi alfaaz jinse karu tareef apni Maa ki
khaak sa banda hu..
Mai kya bataau kaisi hai?
Khuda rakhe salaamat usko, jab tak na ho kayamat.
Farishton jaisi hai..
Wo sab acchi maaon jaisi hai.....

poem by Smriti Sharma
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Tercius

Incipit Liber Quartus

Dicunt accidiam fore nutricem viciorum,
Torpet et in cunctis tarda que lenta bonis:
Que fieri possent hodie transfert piger in cras,
Furatoque prius ostia claudit equo.
Poscenti tardo negat emolumenta Cupido,
Set Venus in celeri ludit amore viri.

Upon the vices to procede
After the cause of mannes dede,
The ferste point of Slowthe I calle
Lachesce, and is the chief of alle,
And hath this propreliche of kinde,
To leven alle thing behinde.
Of that he mihte do now hier
He tarieth al the longe yer,
And everemore he seith, 'Tomorwe';
And so he wol his time borwe,
And wissheth after 'God me sende,'
That whan he weneth have an ende,
Thanne is he ferthest to beginne.
Thus bringth he many a meschief inne
Unwar, til that he be meschieved,
And may noght thanne be relieved.
And riht so nowther mor ne lesse
It stant of love and of lachesce:
Som time he slowtheth in a day
That he nevere after gete mai.
Now, Sone, as of this ilke thing,
If thou have eny knowleching,
That thou to love hast don er this,
Tell on. Mi goode fader, yis.
As of lachesce I am beknowe
That I mai stonde upon his rowe,
As I that am clad of his suite:
For whanne I thoghte mi poursuite
To make, and therto sette a day
To speke unto the swete May,
Lachesce bad abide yit,
And bar on hond it was no wit
Ne time forto speke as tho.
Thus with his tales to and fro
Mi time in tariinge he drowh:
Whan ther was time good ynowh,
He seide, 'An other time is bettre;
Thou schalt mowe senden hire a lettre,
And per cas wryte more plein
Than thou be Mowthe durstest sein.'

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Quintus

Incipit Liber Sextus

Est gula, que nostrum maculavit prima parentem
Ex vetito pomo, quo dolet omnis homo
Hec agit, ut corpus anime contraria spirat,
Quo caro fit crassa, spiritus atque macer.
Intus et exterius si que virtutis habentur,
Potibus ebrietas conviciata ruit.
Mersa sopore labis, que Bachus inebriat hospes,
Indignata Venus oscula raro premit.

---------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------

The grete Senne original,
Which every man in general
Upon his berthe hath envenymed,
In Paradis it was mystymed:
Whan Adam of thilke Appel bot,
His swete morscel was to hot,
Which dedly made the mankinde.
And in the bokes as I finde,
This vice, which so out of rule
Hath sette ous alle, is cleped Gule;
Of which the branches ben so grete,
That of hem alle I wol noght trete,
Bot only as touchende of tuo
I thenke speke and of no mo;
Wherof the ferste is Dronkeschipe,
Which berth the cuppe felaschipe.
Ful many a wonder doth this vice,
He can make of a wisman nyce,
And of a fool, that him schal seme
That he can al the lawe deme,
And yiven every juggement
Which longeth to the firmament
Bothe of the sterre and of the mone;
And thus he makth a gret clerk sone
Of him that is a lewed man.
Ther is nothing which he ne can,
Whil he hath Dronkeschipe on honde,
He knowth the See, he knowth the stronde,
He is a noble man of armes,
And yit no strengthe is in his armes:
Ther he was strong ynouh tofore,
With Dronkeschipe it is forlore,
And al is changed his astat,
And wext anon so fieble and mat,
That he mai nouther go ne come,
Bot al togedre him is benome
The pouer bothe of hond and fot,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Secundus

Incipit Liber Tercius

Ira suis paribus est par furiis Acherontis,
Quo furor ad tempus nil pietatis habet.
Ira malencolicos animos perturbat, vt equo
Iure sui pondus nulla statera tenet.
Omnibus in causis grauat Ira, set inter amantes,
Illa magis facili sorte grauamen agit:
Est vbi vir discors leuiterque repugnat amori,
Sepe loco ludi fletus ad ora venit.

----------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------

If thou the vices lest to knowe,
Mi Sone, it hath noght ben unknowe,
Fro ferst that men the swerdes grounde,
That ther nis on upon this grounde,
A vice forein fro the lawe,
Wherof that many a good felawe
Hath be distraght be sodein chance;
And yit to kinde no plesance
It doth, bot wher he most achieveth
His pourpos, most to kinde he grieveth,
As he which out of conscience
Is enemy to pacience:
And is be name on of the Sevene,
Which ofte hath set this world unevene,
And cleped is the cruel Ire,
Whos herte is everemore on fyre
To speke amis and to do bothe,
For his servantz ben evere wrothe.
Mi goode fader, tell me this:
What thing is Ire? Sone, it is
That in oure englissh Wrathe is hote,
Which hath hise wordes ay so hote,
That all a mannes pacience
Is fyred of the violence.
For he with him hath evere fyve
Servantz that helpen him to stryve:
The ferst of hem Malencolie
Is cleped, which in compaignie
An hundred times in an houre
Wol as an angri beste loure,
And noman wot the cause why.
Mi Sone, schrif thee now forthi:
Hast thou be Malencolien?
Ye, fader, be seint Julien,
Bot I untrewe wordes use,
I mai me noght therof excuse:
And al makth love, wel I wot,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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The Hammers

I

Frindsbury, Kent, 1786

Bang!
Bang!
Tap!
Tap-a-tap! Rap!
All through the lead and silver Winter days,
All through the copper of Autumn hazes.
Tap to the red rising sun,
Tap to the purple setting sun.
Four years pass before the job is done.
Two thousand oak trees grown and felled,
Two thousand oaks from the hedgerows of the Weald,
Sussex had yielded two thousand oaks
With huge boles
Round which the tape rolls
Thirty mortal feet, say the village folks.
Two hundred loads of elm and Scottish fir;
Planking from Dantzig.
My! What timber goes into a ship!
Tap! Tap!
Two years they have seasoned her ribs on the ways,
Tapping, tapping.
You can hear, though there's nothing where you gaze.
Through the fog down the reaches of the river,
The tapping goes on like heart-beats in a fever.
The church-bells chime
Hours and hours,
Dropping days in showers.
Bang! Rap! Tap!
Go the hammers all the time.
They have planked up her timbers
And the nails are driven to the head;
They have decked her over,
And again, and again.
The shoring-up beams shudder at the strain.
Black and blue breeches,
Pigtails bound and shining:
Like ants crawling about,
The hull swarms with carpenters, running in and out.
Joiners, calkers,
And they are all terrible talkers.
Jem Wilson has been to sea and he tells some wonderful tales
Of whales, and spice islands,
And pirates off the Barbary coast.
He boasts magnificently, with his mouth full of nails.
Stephen Pibold has a tenor voice,
He shifts his quid of tobacco and sings:

[...] Read more

poem by Amy Lowell
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Primus

Incipit Liber Secundus

Inuidie culpa magis est attrita dolore,
Nam sua mens nullo tempore leta manet:
Quo gaudent alii, dolet ille, nec vnus amicus
Est, cui de puro comoda velle facit.
Proximitatis honor sua corda veretur, et omnis
Est sibi leticia sic aliena dolor.
Hoc etenim vicium quam sepe repugnat amanti,
Non sibi, set reliquis, dum fauet ipsa Venus.
Est amor ex proprio motu fantasticus, et que
Gaudia fert alius, credit obesse sibi.

Now after Pride the secounde
Ther is, which many a woful stounde
Towardes othre berth aboute
Withinne himself and noght withoute;
For in his thoght he brenneth evere,
Whan that he wot an other levere
Or more vertuous than he,
Which passeth him in his degre;
Therof he takth his maladie:
That vice is cleped hot Envie.
Forthi, my Sone, if it be so
Thou art or hast ben on of tho,
As forto speke in loves cas,
If evere yit thin herte was
Sek of an other mannes hele?
So god avance my querele,
Mi fader, ye, a thousend sithe:
Whanne I have sen an other blithe
Of love, and hadde a goodly chiere,
Ethna, which brenneth yer be yere,
Was thanne noght so hot as I
Of thilke Sor which prively
Min hertes thoght withinne brenneth.
The Schip which on the wawes renneth,
And is forstormed and forblowe,
Is noght more peined for a throwe
Than I am thanne, whanne I se
An other which that passeth me
In that fortune of loves yifte.
Bot, fader, this I telle in schrifte,
That is nowher bot in o place;
For who that lese or finde grace
In other stede, it mai noght grieve:
Bot this ye mai riht wel believe,
Toward mi ladi that I serve,
Thogh that I wiste forto sterve,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Mann Toh Mann Hai

Mann to mann hai
Ek sawachand panchi
Kaun use kisi bandhan
me bandh paya hai.

Lakh talo me rah kar bhi
uuse kon bandi bana paya hai.
Dekho to uuadan uski
Chand lamho mei
Vo to kitne brahmand
Bhraman kar aaya hai.

Mann to mann hai
Ek sawachand panchi
Kaun use kisi bandhan
me bandh paya hai.

Tan ko to bandh liya
kadiyo se.
Kabhi diwaroo mein
Kabhi dooriyo mein
Mann ke aashwo ki
Doowd kaun, kaha,
rok paya hai

Mann to mann hai
Ek sawachand panchi
Kaun use kisi bandhan
me bandh paya hai.

mann doodaye
mann hasaye
mann roolaye
mann ki mahima
kya kabhi kooie jaan paya hai.

Mann to mann hai
Ek sawachand panchi
Kaun use kisi bandhan
me bandh paya hai

mann chanchal hai,
jharno sa
baadlo mein chamakti bijjliyo sa.
mann paavan hai
pooja mein chadhe puspo sa.
mann pischash hai
khoon mooh lage narbhakshi sa.

par phir,

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poem by Anjali Kakati
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Septimus

Incipit Liber Octavus

Que favet ad vicium vetus hec modo regula confert,
Nec novus e contra qui docet ordo placet.
Cecus amor dudum nondum sua lumina cepit,
Quo Venus impositum devia fallit iter.

------------------------------------ -----------------------------------------------
The myhti god, which unbegunne
Stant of himself and hath begunne
Alle othre thinges at his wille,
The hevene him liste to fulfille
Of alle joie, where as he
Sit inthronized in his See,
And hath hise Angles him to serve,
Suche as him liketh to preserve,
So that thei mowe noght forsueie:
Bot Lucifer he putte aweie,
With al the route apostazied
Of hem that ben to him allied,
Whiche out of hevene into the helle
From Angles into fendes felle;
Wher that ther is no joie of lyht,
Bot more derk than eny nyht
The peine schal ben endeles;
And yit of fyres natheles
Ther is plente, bot thei ben blake,
Wherof no syhte mai be take.
Thus whan the thinges ben befalle,
That Luciferes court was falle
Wher dedly Pride hem hath conveied,
Anon forthwith it was pourveied
Thurgh him which alle thinges may;
He made Adam the sexte day
In Paradis, and to his make
Him liketh Eve also to make,
And bad hem cresce and multiplie.
For of the mannes Progenie,
Which of the womman schal be bore,
The nombre of Angles which was lore,
Whan thei out fro the blisse felle,
He thoghte to restore, and felle
In hevene thilke holy place
Which stod tho voide upon his grace.
Bot as it is wel wiste and knowe,
Adam and Eve bot a throwe,
So as it scholde of hem betyde,
In Paradis at thilke tyde
Ne duelten, and the cause why,
Write in the bok of Genesi,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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The Voice

Lord, have mercy
Bang! - A gunshot rings out
13-year-old baby falls 2 the ground
See the killer runnin' down the street
Tell me killer, can U hear the sound?
Tap, tap, tappin' on your window like a fallin' rain
Cryin' like a baby in a cradle sayin' pick me up again
Ching! - Mr. Politician goes on vacation
Brings along a friend or 2
In the disguise of taxes
Mr. Politician (sends) sends the bill 2 U know who
Tap, tap, tappin' on your window like a fallin' rain
(Tappin' on my window like a fallin' rain)
Cryin' like a baby in a cradle sayin' pick me up again
(Cryin' like a baby, pick me up)
Can't U hear the voice? (Oh yeah)
The nightsticks are still singin'
4-part harmony on brother's back
Justice is doomed when we don't start no S-H
And there's still some I-T in all of that
Tap, tap, tappin' on your window like a fallin' rain
(Can't U hear it tappin' like a fallin' rain fine-tune cryin' like a baby?)
Cryin' like a baby in a cradle sayin' pick me up again
(Pick me up, pick me up)
I'm talkin' about the voice, y'all
Ha, suky, suky now
Sho'mon (Tap)
Sho'mon (Tap)
Help me here (Tap)
Tappin' (Tap)
Tappin', tappin', ha ha (Tap)
Tap on it, tap on it (Tap) (Tap)
Can't U see it's just dirty money?
If your brother man is dyin' in the flow
Take off these chains (Tap) (Tap)
And listen 2 the voice callin' (Tap)
We gotta go, gotta go (Tap) (Tap)
Tap, tap, tappin' on your window like a fallin' rain
(Oh yeah, like a fallin' rain)
Cryin' like a baby in a cradle sayin' pick me up again
(Cryin' like a baby, pick me up, pick me up)
5-4-3-2-1, keep the war over (Tap)
But how many wanna keep the peace (Tap) (Tap)
We keep buildin' guns when we could build love (Tap)
(When we need 2 build love)
Cuz that's when the war will cease
U know it, U know it (Tap) (Tap)
Can't U hear the voices? (Tap) (Tap)
Can't U hear the sound? (Tap)
Take heed, get your house in order (Tap)

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Awareness poem in Hindi by Deepak kumar deep

Sadiyon se khamosh ye dharti
Pata dhoondh rahi hai insanon ka
Kash! Kahin koi mil jaye
Kya shahar hai ye veerano ka?

Dhadhak rahen hai dil par hoth hain band
Iltaza hai kuch kahne ki
Par! sari nakam koshish
Mai chala gaya tha mudon ke shahar me
The naam wahan gude huwe sunhare patthron par

Wo bebas the, chilla rahe the,
Ro rahe the apni lachari par
Zuban na thepaas unke, kuch kahne ko
Kyonki wo bebas the lachar the……
Jane laga jab wahan se main
Pukar rahi thi wo sari lashen mughe
Chilla chilla kar kar kah rahi thi-
Mat banna aise, jaise the mere karm
Yaad kar un baton ko, aati mughe abs harm
Banna tha jab narm mughe, huwa main narm
Andhvishwashon me ghira tha mera apna dharm….

Jao jakar bata do unko
Meri tarah hi unka hoga haal
Maine ta umernahi ki bhakti, sirf kiya dikhawa
Jo bana aaj ka sawal
Maine apna waqut gawaya, duniyawi such ko pane me
Shareer ko sajane me,
Imarte banana me,
Danga fasad karne karane me
Par zara bhi na diya dhyan
Manav jeevan sawarne me.

Murakhta aur pagalpan ki bhi had hoti hai
Maine samay ke satguru ko nahi pahchana
Sirf libas dekha, shaklon par dhokha khakar
Har yug me maine mara taana.

Main bhi kitna badnaseeb tha
Manjeel mere karib tha
Phir bhi daud raha tha paglon ki tarah
Wo waqut bhi kaisa ajeeb tha.
Khair! Min to apne kiye ki bhugat raha hoon
Par jao jakar kahna un ghamandi, ahankari, papai,
durachari, anachari, Vyabhichari, atyachari logon se

Kyon kar raha hai apne aap se gaddaari.
Kar le apne aapki pahchan
Kaun hai tu? Kya hai tera asthan?

[...] Read more

poem by Deepak Kumar deep
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Khamoshi

Thodi sone si dhoop he...
Thodi chandi si chandni...
Thoda gam tumhe bhi he...
Thoda mujhe bhi...
Thodi bebasi he... Aankhe teri bhi nam he
Meri bhi...
Chal aaj fir ithlate he... muskurate he...
Aaj dil se puchha aakhir tu kyu khamosh he...

Hotho pe jo baat kabhi aa na saki...
Aankho me wo kyon zalakne lagi?
Khamoshi ka ye sama kab tak chalega...
Pattiyo ne mujhse kaha 'duniya me aisa hi hota he'
Jugnu ke pichhe pichhe pata nahi kaha chale aaye...
Shayad wo wadiya kho gai he...
Aaj dilse puchha aakhir tu kyu khamosh he...

Nange pair chale the wo raho par...
Aaj rahe bhi alag he aur manzile bhi...
Jab jab gam ka badal chhaya jane kyu jee ghabraya...
Aankho ke rang kabhi na dekh paye hum...
Thode rang mere bhi berang he...
Thode rang tere bhi berang he...
Aaj dilse puchha aakhir tu kyu kamosh he...

Waqt ne mujhe bhi nachaya he...tujhe bhi...
Sab is waqt ki kathputliya he...
Ek din ye sans bhi khamosh ho jayegi...
Ye jo gehre sannate he...
Chikhti hui lehro ki god me..
Kyu tu soya he...
Aaj dilse puchha aakhir tu kyu khamosh he....

Aakhir tu kyu khamosh he.....

poem by Utsav Patel
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Dil Ka Khalipan! ! ! !

Na ujjalo me jalta hai
Na aandhero se bharta hai
Dil ka khalipan
Na jaane kya chahta hai..

Jal mei bhi pyasa hai
Poora hokar bhi aadhoora hai..

Ye begana aakhir kya chahta hai..

Ghar ki chat ke neeche hokar
Bhi hai beghar..
Manzil pakar bhi bemanzil..

Aakhir banzara yeh mann,
Kyun galiyon me bhatakta hai..

Bhara bhara sa har waqt,
Phir bhi hai khali..
Jhake har manzar manzar
Gali gali..

Aakhir ye mann kya dhoondhta hai?

Kyun har lamha hai
Raste me nazaree gadhaye..
Kiske intezar mei
Palke beechayee?

Dil ka khalipan
Aakhir kya chahta hai?
Na ujjalo me jalta hai
Na aandhero se bharta hai

poem by Anjali Kakati
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Maa

Maa to meri jaan hai.
dundle andhere me bhi vo, meri pehchan hai
Sehti rahi jo hr pal,
Marti rahi har pal jiske liye vo,
Kuch or nahi bs vo meri muskaan hai,
Har gaya har lamha jiske samne,
Jhuk gaya har dard jiske samne
Vo koi or nahi meri maa mera bhagwan hai.muskurati rahi har dard me vo tumhe hsane k liye,
khud jalti hai vo har pal, sirf tumhe roshni dikhane k liye, rehti hai andhero me tumhe chand dikhane k liye,
Aaj bhi intzaar krti hai vo tumhe chamkta dekhne k liye,
Tadapti hai vo bs ek bar tumhe seene se lagane k liye.
Dedo use itni khushi ki gham bhi na use chu paye is zamane me...
Bna do uske har aasun ko moti,
Chamka to uski zindagi kuch is kadar,
Ki heera bhi feeka parh jaye is zamane me,
Bs ye hi jaan lo, maa hi sabkuch hai,
Har zamane me...

poem by Neha Poemlover
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Amma k naam...! ! ! (Urdu)

Janay kiskis tarha mushkil se sambhala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko......!

Apne kirdar se, guftaar se taaleem kia
Neik seerat bharay afkaar se taaleem kia
kia sahi, kia he ghalat, nok palak batlai
Ye namaz or dua tu ne hamay sikhlai

Tu ne kundan ki tarha se he ujaala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!

Tarbiat din ki aulad ko aamaal se di
Roshni tu ne sahi raah ki afa'al se di
Zer e taameer sahi, me teri taameer to hun
Aaj me jo hun teri zaat ki tasveer to hun

Tu ne suraj ki tarha shab se nikala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!

Kese pehchaanay teri zeest ka unwaan koi
Bistar e marg tha ya jang ka maidaan koi
Itni takleef sahi dil se magar sabr kia
lub se shikva na dia, sham o sahar shukr kia

Kon mushkil me bhala de ga sambhaala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!

Akhri baar kalejay se mujhe liptana
Kese bhoolay ga kalaavon ka hamay pehnana
Mere naa cheez se haathon ko lagaya lub se
Dil Batool ab bhi yehi bol raha he tub se

Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!

poem by Shahzia Batool
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Gazal Badi Ajeeb hai ye Zindagi in hindi by deepak kumar deep

Badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi,
khushi ek pal ke liye
dukh verson baras ke liye
koi sukh chahta hai is jeevan me
to usse dukhon ki bhari bori hi mil jati hai
jahan foolon ke milne ki aaasha hai
wahan katon ki sej bich jati hai
Badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi.....................

Kuch satya kuch ghooth
Kabhi aasha kabhi nirasha
kabhi sawpno ko pane ki lalasa
inhi me ulagh kar rah gayi hai zindagi
Badi ajeeb hai hai ye zindagi................

Kabhi jati kabhi varn
Kabhi bhasha kabhi dharm
viwadoke ghere me hai aaj ki sanskriti
kaise kahen, kya yahi hai zindagi?
badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi...........

Pyar doge pyar milega
satkar doge samman milega
mehanat se har chij hai sambhav
kam se chori hai dukh ka anubhav
ham jaisa hain sochte nahi hai aisi zindagi?
fier bhi log kahte hain,
badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi.............

Manav jeevan ek baar hai mita
nahi milta hai barambar
har manav se pyar karen
nafrat ko de dutkar
Krodha chod dhairya apnayen
paap chod punya kamayen
ye dharti hai dharam ki
jitni marji fasal ugayen
Ek baar yatan kar dekhen-
Hai khusnasheeb ye zindagi
nahi hai ajeeb ye zindagifir bhi log kahte hai,
badi ajeeb hai ye zindagi.........

poem by Deepak Kumar deep
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Non Puoi Lasciarmi Cos (Quit Playing Games)

Guardo dentro me e so gi
cosa rester di noi
quello che vorrei sei tu
ma niente ti riporta qui.
Che cosa non farei per te
ma il tempo gioca contro me
quanto ti vorrei non sai oh no.
Non puoi lasciarmi cos, lo sai o no
(non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non puoi giocare cos con me
(non puoi giocare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non farlo mai.
Ritornerai lo so
mi vedo gi vicino a te
dammi un segno che tu ci sei
io voglio immaginarti qui.
Che cosa non farei per te
ma il tempo gioca contro me
quanto ti vorrei non sai oh no.
... lo sai che.
Non puoi lasciarmi cos, lo sai o no
(non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non puoi giocare cos con me
(non puoi giocare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non farlo mai.
Se ci credi c' ancora un domani per noi
possiamo ancora stare insieme.
Se ci tieni
star qui con te
sarai qui con me.
Ritornerai lo so
mi vedo gi vicino a te
dammi un segno che tu ci sei
io voglio immaginarti qui.
Che cosa non farei per te
ma il tempo gioca contro me
quanto ti vorrei non sai oh no.
Non puoi lasciarmi cos, lo sai o no
(non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non puoi giocare cos con me
(non puoi giocare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non puoi giocare cos non puoi lo sai non puoi.

song performed by Backstreet Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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New Year Poem- Saal Naya Ho Deepak Kumar Deep

Is duniyan ki reet purani
baad subah ke hoti shaam
rang birangi is duniyan ka
hona ek din kam tamam.

Suraj chanda sabhi hain badle
badle dharti aur aasman
Jisam hain badle rab na badla
issi ko kahte hain bhagwan.

Prabhu amar aur avinashi
Iska kabhi bhi nash na hota
Issi se raushan duniyan sari
Bin iske prakash na hota.

karwat li hai waqut ne jab jab
Satyug, treta dwapar aaya
har yug me ye rup badlta
jaisa jab bhi samay hai aaya.

ho laddu kitna bhi tedda
par hum aam usse na kahte hain
jab raam ek hai is duniya ka
fir bhram me hum kyon rahte hain.

Apne bhi badal hain jaate
jab saya dukh ka aata hai
nirasha, dukh, takleef me
bas ye hi sath nibhata hai.

failao daman issi ke aage
sab issi ke mang ke khate hain
par murakh aur agyani log
kha ke iska isko aankh dikhte hain.

satguru pura rab dikhlata
har yug me ye aata hai
aaj bhi aaya ban hardev
aur gyan uzzala failata hai.

Aao satguru ke charnon me
ye hi rab dikhlayega
bhed tughe jo raam khuda me
uska bharam mitayega.

saal naya ho sabkikhatir
uzzawal aur mangalkari
bhukh garibi na ho kahi pe
deep, sukhi ho duniya sari.

[...] Read more

poem by Deepak Kumar deep
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Woh Sawan Tha, Yeh bhadon Hai. [ Poem in Hindi]

Woh sawan tha jo beet gaya
Tab paydon par jhuley jholti thi
Allhad masst jawani
Ik pal barasta tha paani
Dujey pal dhoop nikalti thi
Ik pal hum mil kar hanstey thay
Dujey pal virha mein jaltey thay
Woh sawan tha jo beet gaya.
Yeh bhadon hai
Iss ki vyatha main kis se kahoon
Na tum ho priyey
Na koi humdum
Ab jab bhi barkha hoti hai
Toa bas barkha hi hoti hai
Umeed ab tere aane ki
Iss pal kabhi sehlati nahien
Be- bass yeh jeevan lagta hai
Vyarth yeh duniya lagti hai
Yeh bhadon hai
Iss ki vyatha main kis se kahon
Yaadon ke athah samunder main
Jab lehren hilorey layti hain
Aakash main badal garajte jab
Mann par bijli si girti hai
Aur pass nahien tum hoti jab
Nainon se paani barasta hai
Ab jab bhi barkha hoti hai
Toa bas barkha hi hoti hai. [1973]

poem by Om Chawla
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Prologus

Incipit Liber Primus

Naturatus amor nature legibus orbem
Subdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:
Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,
Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.
Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecas
Plebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.
Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,
Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.

I may noght strecche up to the hevene
Min hand, ne setten al in evene
This world, which evere is in balance:
It stant noght in my sufficance
So grete thinges to compasse,
Bot I mot lete it overpasse
And treten upon othre thinges.
Forthi the Stile of my writinges
Fro this day forth I thenke change
And speke of thing is noght so strange,
Which every kinde hath upon honde,
And wherupon the world mot stonde,
And hath don sithen it began,
And schal whil ther is any man;
And that is love, of which I mene
To trete, as after schal be sene.
In which ther can noman him reule,
For loves lawe is out of reule,
That of tomoche or of tolite
Welnyh is every man to wyte,
And natheles ther is noman
In al this world so wys, that can
Of love tempre the mesure,
Bot as it falth in aventure:
For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,
And he which elles wolde him yelpe
Is rathest throwen under fote,
Ther can no wiht therof do bote.
For yet was nevere such covine,
That couthe ordeine a medicine
To thing which god in lawe of kinde
Hath set, for ther may noman finde
The rihte salve of such a Sor.
It hath and schal ben everemor
That love is maister wher he wile,
Ther can no lif make other skile;
For wher as evere him lest to sette,
Ther is no myht which him may lette.
Bot what schal fallen ate laste,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Phagoon Ki Raasta Khoi Hawa

Kya dhoondhte hai?
Kyoun dhoondhte hai?
Kise dhoondhte hai?

Sara jahan hai..
Kabi mutthi me,
To kabhi
Kadmo tale,
Phir bhi jaane kya chahte hai?
Na jaane kis ki khoj me rehta hai,
dil bechara.

Kyon aasthir hai?
Itna asantust,
Itna vyakul ye mann mera?
Peeneko toh puri dariya hai
Na jaane phir kyoun lout aate hai
Pyase he kinare se
Lekar koi naam anjana.

Kyoun nahi chal paate hai
Un raasto par
Jis par chalta hai jag sara?
Na jaane kyoun bhatakte phirte hai
Pagdandi, pagdandi
Jangal, khalihan sara?

Shayad phagoon ki
Rasta khoyee hawa hain,
Kabhi ek tinke se jala dete hai
tamam umar ki kamaiee,
Kabhi usi tinke koi bana lete hai
Doobte ki parchyee.

Kya dhoondhte hai?
Kyoun dhoondhte hai?
Kise dhoondhte hai?

poem by Anjali Kakati
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Namankaran

Gumnam se is rishtey ka
Koi nam rakha jaye
Ho kar bhi jo hai nahi
Is aahsase khas ko
Koi takht diya jaye.

Nadiyo ke milne ko
Kahte hai sangam
Sapno ke Milan ko Bhi
koi nam diya jaye.
Ho kar bhi jo hai nahi
Is aahsase khas ko
Koi takht diya jaye.

Khuli aakho se dekhe
To kahlaye vastav
Bandh aakho se dekhe
To kahlaye khabb
Khuli aakho se dekhe
Khabbo ka bhi
Koi nam diya jaaye
Ho kar bhi jo hai nahi
Is aahsase khas ko
Koi takht diya jaye.

Kuch gaam aakho ko rulaye
Kuch dil ko dahlaye
Kuch rooho ko hilaye
Jo gam dukhakar bhi bhaye
Un gamo ka aalag kuch
Koi nam rakha jaye
Ho kar bhi jo hai nahi
Is aahsase khas ko
Koi takht diya jaye.

Tan ke Milan
Aur man ke Milan
Ke to hai laakho nam
Rooho ke Milan ka bhi chalo
Koi nam rakha jaye
Ho kar bhi jo hai nahi
Is aahsase khas ko
Koi takht diya jaye.

poem by Anjali Kakati
Added by Poetry Lover
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