Beat! beat! drums!–blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows–through doors–burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, Into the school where the scholar is studying; Leave not the bridegroom quiet–no happiness must he have now with his bride, Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his...
Because I cannot sleep I make music at night. I am troubled by the one whose face has the color of spring flowers. I have neither sleep nor patience, neither a good reputation nor disgrace. A thousand robes of wisdom are gone. All my good manners have moved a thousand...
Matthew Arnold Growing Old What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? Is it for beauty to forego her wreath? Yes, but not for this alone. Is it to feel our strength – Not our bloom only, but...
Allama Muhammad Iqbal THE WITHERED ROSE O withered rose! How can I still call you a rose? How can I call you the longing of nightingale’s heart? Once the zephyr’s movement was your rocking cradle In the garden’s expanse joyous rose was your name The morning breeze acknowledged your benevolence...
Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea; The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape, With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape; But O too fond, when have I answer’d thee? Ask me no more. Ask me no more: what answer should I...
Love is not condescension, never that, nor books, nor any marking on paper, nor what people say of each other. Love is a tree with branches reaching into eternity and roots set deep in eternity, and no trunk! Have you seen it? The mind cannot. Your desiring cannot. The longing...
Always it happens when we are not there — The tree leaps up alive in the air, Small open parasols of Chinese green Wave on each twig. But who has ever seen The latch sprung, the bud as it burst? Spring always manages to get there first. Lovers of wind,...
I have come so that, tugging your ear, I may draw you to me, unheart and unself you, plant you in my heart and soul. Rosebush, I have come a sweet springtide unto you, to seize you very gently in my embrace and squeeze you. I have come to adorn...
O SUN of real peace! O hastening light! O free and extatic! O what I here, preparing, warble for! O the sun of the world will ascend, dazzling, and take his height—and you too, O my Ideal, will surely ascend! O so amazing and broad—up there resplendent, dart-ing and burning!...
This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each...
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved,...
Thank God the door of the Tavern is open and I am needy at His door. The vats are all boiling and crying out of drunkenness. Only the wine of truth can be found there. Not that of falsehood. From Him comes drunkenness, pride and aloofness. From us comes helplessness,...
WHEN I consider how my light is spent E’re half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide, Lodg’d with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, least he returning chide,...
Elevation bestows the sky’s nearness to my abode I am the mountain’s cloud, my skirt sprinkles roses Now the wilderness, now the rose garden is my abode City and wilderness are mine, ocean is mine, forest is mine If I want to return to some valley for the night The...
I READ my sentence steadily, Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause, – The date, and manner of the shame; And then the pious form That ‘God have mercy’ on the soul The jury voted him. I made my soul familiar...
When the sparkling of the night’s forehead’s decoration disappeared The zephyr of life with the news of the happy morning appeared It awakened the nightingale of flowery song in its nest It shook the shoulder of the farmer on the field’s edge It broke the spell of darkness of night’s...
Maya Angelou The Lesson I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs, Rotting flesh and worms do Not convince me against The challenge. The years And cold defeat live deep in Lines along my face. They dull my eyes,...
One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think Of...
Hafiz Lifts Beyond Conception Independent Of this body is my mind When the call from the Golden Nightingale Lifts and pours my being throughout The Sky. Independent of this mind is my Heart When God unfurls even a shadow of His tress Upon my bare shoulder. Sovereign of my illumined...
The first sorrow of autumn Is the slow goodbye Of the garden who stands so long in the evening- A brown poppy head, / The stalk of a lily, And still cannot go. The second sorrow / Is the empty feet Of a pheasant who hangs from a hook with...
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