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  1. #21
    Perjashtuar
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    Poezi nga Alda Merini

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Oh Woman

    Oh woman,
    Your superb violin
    Angelic voices opens
    And a metal pivot
    Animates the nightingale.
    He, Alberto, my rhyme,
    Endured this moment
    And I became the goddess
    Of vast hypotenuse,
    Jeers of words
    Or sylloge of the sun?

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

    I Was Born

    I was born in spring the twentyone
    Not knowing that to be born insane,
    To open the turfs
    A tempest could unchain.
    And thus gentle Proserpina
    Sees rain fall upon the grasses,
    Upon the large gentle grains
    And always weeps at night.
    Perhaps it is her prayer.

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

    Space

    Space space I want, lots of space
    To wounded gently move;
    I want space to sing grow
    Err and leap the ditch
    Of divine sapience.
    Space give me space
    That an inhuman cry I give,
    That cry of silence in the years
    On which my hand I laid.

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

    Superb is the Night

    The superbest thing is the night
    When the last fears fall
    And the soul is thrust into adventure.
    He is silent in your womb
    As if reabsorbed into the blood
    Which at last is hued of God
    And you pray that he forever hushes
    Not to hear his perpetual presence
    Follow you within the walls.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~

    Thank you Broken Smile for introducing to the poems of Alda Merini , this italian woman poet !

    Qe te gjitha me pelqyen por me shume me pelqeu shprehja "Move Space , I need some Space"
    Ndryshuar pėr herė tė fundit nga Viola.V : 14-07-2011 mė 13:24

  2. #22
    Perjashtuar
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    kam frike nga e verteta?

  3. #23
    cherry blossom girl
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    Fresca marina
    A te assomiglio la mia vita d’uomo,
    fresca marina che trai ciottoli e luce
    e scordi a nuova onda
    quella cui diede suono
    gią il muover dell’aria.
    Se mi desti, t’ascolto,
    e ogni pausa č cielo in cui mi perdo
    serenitą d’alberi a chiaro della notte.

    Salvatore Quasimodo

  4. #24
    cherry blossom girl
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    Ed ecco sul tronco
    si rompono gemme:
    un verde pił nuovo dell’erba
    che il cuore riposa:
    il tronco pareva gią morto,
    piegato sul botro.

    E tutto mi sa di miracolo;
    e sono quell’acqua di nube
    che oggi rispecchia nei fossi
    pił azzurro il suo pezzo di cielo,
    quel verde che spacca la scorza
    che pure stanotte non c’era.

    S.Q.

  5. #25
    cherry blossom girl
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    Oggi ventuno marzo entra l’Ariete
    nell’equinozio e picchia la sua
    testa maschia contro alberi e rocce,
    e tu amore stacchi
    ai suoi colpi il vento d’inverno
    dal tuo orecchio inclinato
    sull’ultima mia parola. Galleggia
    la prima schiuma sulle piante,pallida
    quasi verde e non rifiuta
    l’avvertimento. E la notizia corre
    ai gabbiani che s’incontrano
    fra gli arcobaleni:spuntano
    scrosciando il loro linguaggio
    di spruzzi che rintoccano
    nelle grotte.Tu copri il loro grido
    al mio fianco,apri il ponte
    fra noi e le raffiche
    che la natura prepara sottoterra
    in un lampo privo di saggezza,
    oltrepassi la spinta dei germogli.
    Ora la primavera non ci basta.

    S.Q.

  6. #26
    cherry blossom girl
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    "Nel pigro moto dei cieli
    la stagione si mostra: al vento nuova,
    al mandorlo che schiara
    piani d'ombra aerei
    nuvoli d'ombre e biade:
    e ricompone le sepolte voci
    dei greti, dei fossati,
    dei giorni di grazia favolosi

    Ogni erba dirama,
    e un'ansia prende le remote acque
    di gelidi lauri ignudi iddii pagani;
    ed ecco salgono dal fondo fra le ghiaie
    e capovolte dormono celesti."

    S.Q.

  7. #27
    i/e regjistruar Maska e Linda5
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    Stumm


    Ich habe viele Gedanken,
    doch ich bleibe stumm,
    du fragst warum?

    Ich kann es nicht sagen,
    wie soll ich es wagen,
    mich Dir zu offenbaren,
    Ich bleibe stumm!

    Ich möchte so viel sagen,
    habe aber Angst,
    meine Gefühle zu zeigen,
    denn ich weiss nicht was ich bekomme,

    Ja ich bleibe stumm,
    ich hoffe nicht für immer,
    oder bevore es zu spät ist.

    Weck mich auf,
    das ich nicht für immer,
    stumm bleibe
    Wir leben alle unter dem gleichen Himmel, aber wir haben nicht alle den gleichen Horizont.

  8. #28
    i/e regjistruar Maska e hot_prinz
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    Qafireshe :^xhan
    Since i cant love you the way i want, i will love you the way i can.

  9. #29
    i/e regjistruar Maska e hot_prinz
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    Love is patient, love is kind.
    It does not envy, it does not boast,
    it is not proud.
    It is not rude, it is not self-seeking,
    it is not easily angered,
    it keeps no record of wrongs.
    Love does not delight in evil
    but rejoices with the truth.
    It always protects, always trusts,
    always hopes, always perseveres.
    Love never fails.


    Cor.
    Since i cant love you the way i want, i will love you the way i can.

  10. #30
    Atje ku je ti........ Maska e tetovarja87
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    poezi t ebukura,keta ne gjuhen angleze sadopak i kuptojm..

    por keta ne italishte e gjermanisht e frengjishte-po patet mundesi te na perktheni..

    happy smile po munde ate te paren ti :)
    Loti nuk sjell dhimbje,por dhimbja sjell lot,mos thuaj o Zot kam 1 dhimbje,por o dhimbje kam 1 Zot

  11. #31
    cherry blossom girl
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    Citim Postuar mė parė nga tetovarja87 Lexo Postimin
    poezi t ebukura,keta ne gjuhen angleze sadopak i kuptojm..

    por keta ne italishte e gjermanisht e frengjishte-po patet mundesi te na perktheni..

    happy smile po munde ate te paren ti :)
    do e beja me kenaqesi, por fatkeqesisht nuk e zoteroj shqipen aq mire sa duhet per ta perkthyer ate poezine pa ia prishur bukurine... :)

  12. #32
    i/e regjistruar Maska e Ke-ler
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    Non credere a te stesso


    Non credere a te stesso,giovane sognatore,
    L'ispirazione temi come peste...
    Essa é greve delirio dell'anima malata
    O irritazione del pensiero in ceppi.
    In essa non cercare segno celeste invano:
    É ardor di sangue,é un soverchio di forze!
    In faccende piuttosto lógorati la vita,
    E versa la bevanda avvelenata!

    Ti capiti in segreto,meraviglioso istante,
    Di scoprirti nell'anima,da tempo,
    Muta,una ancora ignota,una vergine fonte
    Di semplici,di dolci suoni,-ad essi
    Non porgere l'orecchio tu,non abbandonarti,
    Getta su loro il velo dell'oblio:
    col verso misurato,colla fredda parola,
    Il loro senso non esprimerai.

    S'insinui nei recessi del cuore la tristezza,
    Giunga passione in turbine e tempesta,-
    Al festino degli uomini chiassoso non venire
    Tu colla tua furoreggiante amica.
    Non umiliarti,ed abbi ritegno a far mercato
    Or d'ira,ora d'angoscia compiacente,
    E il marciume d'interne piaghe ad esporre altero
    Per meraviglia dell'ingenua plebe.

    A noi che cosa importa se soffri o non soffri?
    Che giova a noi sapere i tuoi tumulti,
    Le stupide speranze dei passati anni primi,
    Le fiere doglie della tua ragione?
    Ma guarda:a te davanti va felice e contenta
    La turba pel cammino consueto;
    Sui volti a festa quasi non é traccia d'affanni,
    Lacrima sconveniente non vedrai.

    Eppure in mezzo a loro non ve n'é forse un solo
    Da un amaro tormento non oppresso,
    Uno solo che sia giunto a precoci rughe
    Senza perdita o sia senza delitto!...
    Credi:a loro risibile é il tuo pianto,e l'accusa,
    Colla sua arietta che si sa a memoria,
    Al pari d'un attore tragico,imbellettato,
    Che meni la sua spada di cartone...

    M:Lermontov 1839

    Kryeveper

  13. #33
    i/e regjistruar Maska e Linda5
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    Mein Herz, ich will dich fragen

    Mein Herz, ich will dich fragen,
    Was ist denn Liebe, sag'? -
    "Zwei Seelen und ein Gedanke,
    Zwei Herzen und ein Schlag!"

    Und sprich, woher, woher kommt Liebe? -
    "Sie kömmt und sie ist da!"
    Und sprich, wie schwindet Liebe? -
    "Die war's nicht, der's geschah!"

    Und was ist reine Liebe? -
    "Die ihrer selbst vergißt!"
    Und wann ist Lieb' am tiefsten? -
    "Wenn sie am stillsten ist!"

    Und wann ist Lieb' am reichsten? -
    "Das ist sie, wenn sie gibt!"
    Und sprich, wie redet Liebe? -
    "Sie redet nicht, sie liebt!"
    Wir leben alle unter dem gleichen Himmel, aber wir haben nicht alle den gleichen Horizont.

  14. #34
    i/e regjistruar Maska e alem_de
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    Einsam

    Ich sitze hier, du neben mir
    Doch trotzdem hab ich nichts von dir
    Machst dein Ding, ganz ohne mich
    Liebling – ich vermisse dich
    Nimm mich doch bitte in den Arm
    Halt mich lieb, dann wird mir warm
    Zeig mir dass du mich noch willst
    Dass du mich brauchst und etwas fühlst
    Sei doch nicht zu kalt zu mir,
    denn dadurch stirbt ein Teil von mir
    Du sitzt nur noch am PC
    Und tust mir damit unendlich weh
    Du merkst es nicht, du spürst nichts mehr
    Innerlich schon alles leer
    Ohne dich kann ich nicht sein,
    doch mit dir bin ich auch allein.
    Wach doch auf, zieh mich zu dir,
    denn mein Herz zerbricht in mir
    Du willst es, kannst es, fühlst es nicht
    Nicht eine Regung im Gesich
    Da steh' ich nun, ich armer Tor,
    Und bin so klug als wie zuvor!

  15. #35
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    Pėr: ~~~Poezi Ne Gjuhe Te Huaj~~~

    Lovely Lady of My Memory

    My limbs are wasted with a flame,
    My feet are sore with travelling,
    For, calling on my Lady's name,
    My lips have now forgot to sing.


    O Linnet in the wild-rose brake
    Strain for my Love thy melody,
    O Lark sing louder for love's sake,
    My gentle Lady passeth by.


    She is too fair for any man
    To see or hold his heart's delight,
    Fairer than Queen or courtesan
    Or moonlit water in the night.


    Her hair is bound with myrtle leaves,
    (Green leaves upon her golden hair!)
    Green grasses through the yellow sheaves
    Of autumn corn are not more fair.


    Her little lips, more made to kiss
    Than to cry bitterly for pain,
    Are tremulous as brook-water is,
    Or roses after evening rain.


    Her neck is like white melilote
    Flushing for pleasure of the sun,
    The throbbing of the linnet's throat
    Is not so sweet to look upon.


    As a pomegranate, cut in twain,
    White-seeded, is her crimson mouth,
    Her cheeks are as the fading stain
    Where the peach reddens to the south.


    O twining hands! O delicate
    White body made for love and pain!
    O House of love! O desolate
    Pale flower beaten by the rain!



    Oscar Wilde

  16. #36
    failed & quoted Maska e IsiNYC
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    Your Funeral My Trial by Nick Cave

    I am a crooked man
    And I've walked a crooked mile
    Night, the shameless widow
    Doffed her weeds, in a pile
    The stars all winked at me
    They shamed a child
    Your funeral, my trial

    A thousand Marys lured me
    To feathered beds and fields of glover
    Bird with crooked wing cast
    It's wicked shadow over
    A bauble moon did mock
    And trinket stars did smile
    Your funeral, my trial

    Here I am, little lamb...
    Let all the bells in whoredom ring
    All the crooked bitches that she was
    (Mongers of pain)
    Saw the moon
    Become a fang
    Your funeral, my trial
    A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything. | Nietzsche

  17. #37
    cherry blossom girl
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    Pėr: ~~~Poezi Ne Gjuhe Te Huaj~~~

    The Indian Serenade

    I arise from dreams of thee
    In the first sweet sleep of night,
    When the winds are breathing low,
    And the stars are shining bright:
    I arise from dreams of thee,
    And a spirit in my feet
    Hath led me—who knows how?
    To thy chamber window, Sweet!

    The wandering airs they faint
    On the dark, the silent stream—
    The Champak odours fail
    Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
    The Nightingale's complaint,
    It dies upon her heart;—
    As I must on thine,
    Oh, belovčd as thou art!

    Oh lift me from the grass!
    I die! I faint! I fail!
    Let thy love in kisses rain
    On my lips and eyelids pale.
    My cheek is cold and white, alas!
    My heart beats loud and fast;—
    Oh! press it to thine own again,
    Where it will break at last.

    Shelley

  18. #38
    cherry blossom girl
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    Pėr: ~~~Poezi Ne Gjuhe Te Huaj~~~

    Let me not to the marriage of true minds
    Admit impediments. Love is not love
    Which alters when it alteration finds,
    Or bends with the remover to remove:
    O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
    That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
    It is the star to every wandering bark,
    Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
    Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
    Within his bending sickle's compass come:
    Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
    But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
    If this be error and upon me proved,
    I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

    Shakespeare

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