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  1. #31
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    05-02-2003
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    Langston Hughes-The Dream Keeper

    Bring me all of your dreams,
    you dreamers,
    Bring me all your heart melodies,
    that I may wrap them in a blue cloud cloth,
    Away from the too rough fingers of the world
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  2. #32
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow-Loss and Gain

    When I compare
    What I have lost with what I have gained
    What I have missed with what attained
    Little room do I find for pride

    I am aware
    How many days have been idly spent
    How like an arrow the good intent
    has fallen short or been turned aside

    But who shall dare
    To measure loss and gain in this wise
    Defeat may be victory in disguise
    The lowest ebb in the turn of the tide
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  3. #33
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    Ogden Nash-A Watched Example Never Boils

    The weather is so very mild
    That some would call it warm.
    Good gracious, aren't we lucky, child?
    Here comes a thunderstorm.
    The sky is now indelible ink,
    The branches reft asunder;
    But you and I we do not shrink;
    We love the lovely thunder.

    The garden is a raging sea,
    The hurricane is snarling;
    Oh, happy you and happy me!
    Isn't the lightning darling?

    Fear not the thunder, little one.
    It's weather, simply weather;
    It's friendly giants full of fun
    Clapping their hands together.

    I hope of lightning our supply
    Will never be exhausted;
    You know its lanterns in the sky
    For angels who are losted.

    We love the kindly wind and hail,
    The jolly thunderbolt,
    We watch in glee the fairy trail
    Of ampere, watt, and volt.

    Oh, than to enjoy a storm like this
    There's nothing I would rather,
    Don't dive between the blankets, Miss!
    Or else leave room for Father.
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  4. #34
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    Robert Louis Stevenson-My Shadow

    I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
    And what can be the use of him is more then I can see.
    He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
    And I see him jump before me when I jump into my bed.
    The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow,
    Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
    for sometimes he shoots up taller like an Indian rubber ball,
    And he sometimes gets so little that there is none of him at all.

    He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
    And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
    he stays so close behind me he's a coward you can see;
    I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

    One morning, very early before the sun was up,
    I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
    But my lazy little shadow like an arrant sleepy-head,
    had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  5. #35
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    Francis William Bourdillon-The Night Has a Thousand Eyes

    The night has a thousand eyes,
    And the day but one;
    Yet the light of the bright world dies
    With the dying sun.

    The mind has a thousand eyes,
    And the heart but one:
    Yet the light of a whole life dies
    When love is done.
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  6. #36
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    Khalil Gibran-Love



    Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."

    And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them.

    And with a great voice he said:

    When love beckons to you follow him,

    Though his ways are hard and steep.

    And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

    Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

    And when he speaks to you believe in him,

    Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

    For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

    Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

    So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

    Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

    He threshes you to make you naked.

    He sifts you to free you from your husks.

    He grinds you to whiteness.

    He kneads you until you are pliant;

    And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

    All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

    But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,

    Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,

    Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

    Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

    Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

    For love is sufficient unto love.

    When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."

    And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

    Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

    But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

    To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

    To know the pain of too much tenderness.

    To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

    And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

    To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

    To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;

    To return home at eventide with gratitude;

    And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  7. #37
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    NOW, MY CO-MATES AND BROTHERS IN EXILE

    Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
    Hath not old customs make this life more sweet
    Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
    More free from peril than the envious court!
    Here feel we not the penalty of Adam,
    The seasons difference; as the icy fang
    And churlish chiding of the winters wind,
    Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
    Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say
    This is no flattery; these are counsellors
    That feelingly persuade me what I am.
    Sweet are the uses of adversity;
    Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
    Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
    And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
    Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
    Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
    I would not change it.


    William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  8. #38
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    I

    I wonder if I know him
    In whose speech is my voice,
    In whose movement is my being,
    Whose skill is in my lines,
    Whose melody is in my songs
    In joy and sorrow.
    I thought he was chained within me,
    Contained by tears and laughter,
    Work and play.
    I thought he was my very self
    Coming to an end with my death.
    Why then in a flood of joy do I feel him
    In the sight and touch of my beloved?
    This 'I' beyond self I found
    On the shores of the shining sea.
    Therefore I know
    This'I' is not imprisoned within my bounds.
    Losing myself, I find him
    Beyond the borders of time and space.
    Through the Ages
    I come to know his Shining Self
    In the Iffe of the seeker,
    In the voice of the poet.
    From the dark clouds pour the rains.
    I sit and think:
    Bearing so many forms, so many names,
    I come down, crossing the threshold
    Of countless births and deaths.
    The Supreme undivided, complete in himself,
    Embracing past and present,
    Dwells in Man.
    Within Him I shall find myself -
    The 'I' that reaches everywhere.


    - Rabindranath Tagore
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  9. #39
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    COMMON COLD


    Go hang yourself, you old M.D,!
    You shall not sneer at me.
    Pick up your hat and stethoscope,
    Go wash your mouth with laundry soap;
    I contemplate a joy exquisite
    In not paying you for your visit.
    I did not call you to be told
    My malady is a common cold.

    By pounding brow and swollen lip;
    By fever's hot and scaly grip;
    By those two red redundant eyes
    That weep like woeful April skies;
    By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff;
    By handkerchief after handkerchief;
    This cold you wave away as naught
    Is the damnedest cold man ever caught!

    Give ear, you scientific fossil!
    Here is the genuine Cold Colossal;
    The Cold of which researchers dream,
    The Perfect Cold, the Cold Supreme.
    This honored system humbly holds
    The Super-cold to end all colds;
    The Cold Crusading for Democracy;
    The Führer of the Streptococcracy.

    Bacilli swarm within my portals
    Such as were ne'er conceived by mortals,
    But bred by scientists wise and hoary
    In some Olympic laboratory;
    Bacteria as large as mice,
    With feet of fire and heads of ice
    Who never interrupt for slumber
    Their stamping elephantine rumba.

    A common cold, gadzooks, forsooth!
    Ah, yes. And Lincoln was jostled by Booth;
    Don Juan was a budding gallant,
    And Shakespeare's plays show signs of talent;
    The Arctic winter is fairly coolish,
    And your diagnosis is fairly foolish.
    Oh what a derision history holds
    For the man who belittled the Cold of Colds!


    - Ogden Nash
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

  10. #40
    !Welcome! Maska e StormAngel
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    TO THE LAKE

    In Spring of youth it was my lot
    To haunt of the wide world a spot
    The which I could not love the less -
    So lovely was the loneliness
    Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
    And the tall pines that towered around.

    But when the night had thrown her pall
    Upon that spot, as upon all,
    And the mystic wind went by
    Murmuring in melody -
    Then - ah, then, I would awake
    To the terror of the lone lake.

    Yet that terror was not fright,
    But a tremulous delight -
    A feeling not the jewelled mine
    Could teach or bribe me to define -
    Nor Love - although the love were thine.

    Death was in that poisonous wave,
    And in its gulf a fitting grave
    For him who thence could solace bring
    To his lone imagining -
    Whose solitary soul could make
    An Eden of that dim lake.


    Edgar Allan Poe
    (1809-1849)
    We didn't land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

Faqja 4 prej 8 FillimFillim ... 23456 ... FunditFundit

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