The Western poet and writer of romance has exactly the same kind of difficulty in comprehending Eastern subjects as you have in comprehending Western subjects.
quote by Lafcadio Hearn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Secret love
He gloomily sat by the wall,
As gaily she danced with them all.
Her laughter's light spell
On every one fell;
His heartstrings were near unto rending,
But this there was none comprehending.
She fled from the house, when at eve
He came there to take his last leave.
To hide her she crept,
She wept and she wept;
Her life-hope was shattered past mending,
But this there was none comprehending.
Long years dragged but heavily o'er,
And then he came back there once more.
-Her lot was the best,
In peace and at rest;
Her thought was of him at life's ending,
But this there was none comprehending.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
While I would agree that I write about serious subjects, and that they're not necessarily the most pleasant subjects or even the most pleasant people, as a writer I just think about the humorous aspects of these things - that's what keeps me going when I'm writing a story.
quote by Ann Beattie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Who Am I? !
Who am I? !
A fighter,
A survivor,
Or a crazy writer,
Or all,
Who am I?
Eastern or Western,
Or both;
I can’t live long
Away from Makkah,
And its marvellous Grand Mosque
And enchanting desert,
Yet in the same time
I long for the English
And all the Western countryside
I love the grand Arabic language,
Yet I sometimes, dream in English,
East and West are combined
In my heart and mind,
Both carry my thoughts,
Just like red and blue veins
That carry the human vital fluid,
In the East, People complain;
They claim I am too Western;
Too liberal and free for them,
In the West,
They say:
I am religious
In my own very special
And rather peculiar way,
Edward Said was “out of place”,
For he was forced
To leave his land,
I am in and out of place
On every terra firma,
Am I misfit? !
My friend: Huda
Calls me “a feminist”,
If I am so then
I am a Muslim one,
For I do not hate men;
Though they are sometimes
A HEADACHE.
Yet I am sure
I hate customs
That wear the mask
Of religion to oppress women,
All I know is that
I love all of God’s grounds,
Roses and cats;
All of his creatures,
Including Man,
I want the best
For every body,
Though I passed
Through many a difficulty,
My life was,
And still is:
A series of hardships;
A kind of impossible ordeals,
Yet I managed,
With the help of Divinity,
To turn every
Loss to gain;
My pain becomes less
With the increased number
Of TESTS;
My personality evolves
STRONGER.
All of this makes
My question a quest,
And it is a never ceasing
Fire that no one can quench:
Am I a fighter,
A survivor,
Or just a crazy poetess
And writer.
12 Nov.2005
poem by Nadia Abduljabbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As I have pointed out, it is the Christian tradition that is the most fundamental element in Western culture. It lies at the base not only of Western religion, but also of Western morals and Western social idealism.
quote by Christopher Dawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Remember...You're the One That's Nuts
Help me understand,
What I am having trouble comprehending.
For years I have been labelled a fool...
Who has no direction.
Laughed at behind my back...
With less than adulation.
And made to feel uncomfortable,
Because I chose to be who I am.
Tell me this...
If they who have done this,
Have been stripped and evicted...
From their realities.
And their 'normal' lives have ceased to be!
While I maintain my peace of mind...
That took time for me to receive.
With a faith I've kept and believed.
What do they have they had valued...
But now has been taken.
That allows them to escape...
The sadness appearing on their faces?
Help me understand,
What I am having trouble comprehending.
If their way of life is 'suppose' to be right...
Why do they look as if,
The end for them is nearing?
If I had been the one...
They were laughing at and jeering?
Help me understand,
What I am having trouble comprehending.
I see a new day beginning to dawn.
And it seems all that they have believed in...
Has been taken away from them and gone!
'Remember...
You're the one that's nuts! '
Oh...
That's right!
I forgot!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Luke Havergal
Go to the western gate, Luke Havergal,
There where the vines cling crimson on the wall,
And in the twilight wait for what will come.
The leaves will whisper there of her, and some,
Like flying words, will strike you as they fall;
But go, and if you listen she will call.
Go to the western gate, Luke Havergal—
Luke Havergal.
No, there is not a dawn in eastern skies
To rift the fiery night that’s in your eyes;
But there, where western glooms are gathering,
The dark will end the dark, if anything:
God slays Himself with every leaf that flies,
And hell is more than half of paradise.
No, there is not a dawn in eastern skies—
In eastern skies.
Out of a grave I come to tell you this,
Out of a grave I come to quench the kiss
That flames upon your forehead with a glow
That blinds you to the way that you must go.
Yes, there is yet one way to where she is,
Bitter, but one that faith may never miss.
Out of a grave I come to tell you this—
To tell you this.
There is the western gate, Luke Havergal,
There are the crimson leaves upon the wall.
Go, for the winds are tearing them away,—
Nor think to riddle the dead words they say,
Nor any more to feel them as they fall;
But go, and if you trust her she will call.
There is the western gate, Luke Havergal—
Luke Havergal.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Luke Havergal
Go to the western gate, Luke Havergal,
There where the vines cling crimson on the wall,
And in the twilight wait for what will come.
The leaves will whisper there of her, and some,
Like flying words, will strike you as they fall;
But go, and if you listen she will call.
Go to the western gate, Luke Havergal—
Luke Havergal.
No, there is not a dawn in eastern skies
To rift the fiery night that’s in your eyes;
But there, where western glooms are gathering,
The dark will end the dark, if anything:
God slays Himself with every leaf that flies,
And hell is more than half of paradise.
No, there is not a dawn in eastern skies—
In eastern skies.
Out of a grave I come to tell you this,
Out of a grave I come to quench the kiss
That flames upon your forehead with a glow
That blinds you to the way that you must go.
Yes, there is yet one way to where she is,
Bitter, but one that faith may never miss.
Out of a grave I come to tell you this—
To tell you this.
There is the western gate, Luke Havergal,
There are the crimson leaves upon the wall.
Go, for the winds are tearing them away,—
Nor think to riddle the dead words they say,
Nor any more to feel them as they fall;
But go, and if you trust her she will call.
There is the western gate, Luke Havergal—
Luke Havergal.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson from The Children of the Night (1897)
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
Bring Her Again, O Western Wind
Bring her again, O western wind,
Over the western sea!
Gentle and good and fair and kind,
Bring her again to me!
Not that her fancy holds me dear,
Not that a hope may be:
Only that I may know her near,
Wind of the western sea!
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Adage 5
'Joy in looking and comprehending is nature's most beautiful gift.'
Albert Einstein (1879-1955)
we are here
we do not worry
for everything is give
a tray of fruits
a bouquet of flowers
a cool river
a wide blue sea
white clear skies
sun
there is joy in merely looking
not even comprehending
what they are
their reasons
our reasons
we are the gifts
they are the gifts
we are this feasts
this dance
and celebrations
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Now You're Here
No, we don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here
No, we don’t care where you come from
Have a beer
We don’t care if you are black or white or
Of another hue
Now you’re here in Western Sydney
Now you’re part of Western Sydney
Now all over Western Sydney
We love you.
We are very proud of our diversity
Out on the streets it’s very clear to see
We don’t care if you’re a Christian or a Jew
Or a Bhuddist or Islamic or Hindu
‘Cos we don’t care where you come from
We don’t care where you come from
We don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here.
We’re very proud of long history
And we pay respect to Aborigines
And there’s just one thing I’ll tell ya
Yes, to you and other fellas
That we don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here.
No, we don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here
No, we don’t care where you come from
Have a beer
We don’t care if you are black or white or
Of another hue
Now you’re here in Western Sydney
Now you’re part of Western Sydney
Now all over Western Sydney
We love you.
We’re proud of where we are going
You can see
We’re using all our creativity
To build a better future
And we’ll get there soon we betcha
‘Cos we don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here.
No, we don’t care where you come from
Have a beer
We don’t care if you are black or white or
Another hue
Now you’re here in Western Sydney
Now you’re part of Western Sydney
Now all over Western Sydney
We love you.
Now you’re here in Western Sydney
Now you’re part of Western Sydney
Now all over Western Sydney
We love you.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poem about Poetry - Chinese poets versus Western Poets
the chinese poet, his characters (calligraphy) help
set out images the western poets
look for words to show
the chinese poet, his characters help him
spread out his feelings and thoughts
the way a painting does
some meanings are trapped in his
pictographs that twirl and swirl over the page,
while some are reenforced
they show the schooled from the mediocre
the western poet, every cadence of the word
he has learnt since childhood determines his 'pedigree'
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am More A Poet
I AM MORE A POET THAN ANY OTHER KIND OF WRITER
I am more a poet than any other kind of writer-
But I am not a pure poet -
And not the best of what a poet could be-
I 'think' in my poetry
And it tells me what I dream and feel-
It is my soul-
God made me a poet
Perhaps not a good one as I would have liked to be-
It is so wonderful to be able to write these lines now
After long long hours of difficult silence.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Campaigning For Him to Fail
Aggressively,
They are campaigning for him to fail.
Without comprehending...
He is the only one left,
Keeping the creditors off their backs.
He is the only one,
Who has not...
Traded his wisdom for deceit.
To line his pockets to get them fat!
He is the only one,
Who has not...
Chased delusion.
With the hopes of seeing it,
Defeated.
He is the only one,
Who has not...
Succumbed to fantasy!
Or allowed himself,
To grieve over trivia!
For personal gain.
To see himself,
Over others succeed.
And yet...
Aggressively,
They are campaigning for him to fail.
Without comprehending...
He is the only one left,
To prevail in their behave.
But they are too blind.
They see him alone.
As someone alone trying to shine!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I didn't mind studying. Obviously math and the physical science subjects interested me more than some of the more artistic subjects, but I think I was a pretty good student.
quote by Alan Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
RainCoveredSKY
RainCoveredSKY
Author Message
Admin
Admin
Number of posts: 100
Age: 54
Localisation: Tucson
Registration date: 2007-06-26
Subject: RainCoveredSKY Today at 10: 52
--------------------
RainCoveredSKY
The sky is Western Covered sky dark for half the canopy is covered up the smell of rain filters down some conflicting with the surroundings the landscaping the hey fever springing here nearby. The birds were swimming in the sky the western sky with wings folded they glide then extend the wings again then fold them back confused by the wind in western sky. They glide then fly then glide. The poet however must walk than lamely then halting lame he walks under the western sky rain never falls but clouds roll out of the valley walls but back they come as poet walks. He walks and as he limps along he notices them the gliding flying birds are gone.
RainCoveredSKY
poem by Charles Hice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God's Tongue
god,
your tongue
are between
the subjects
around me
each face
your spellbinding
vocabulary
each action
mine included
your verb too
how you
have spoken
to me through
that man
who runs away
with my money
not to do similar act
soon too
you will speak
to him
through another man
who would run
away with his money
my IQ awakens me
to your tongue
in the shape
of all your subjects
speaking to me
through every act
mine, theirs
how wrong i have
been all these years
to think
that you have neglected me
there your tongue
in all your subjects
talking to me
with facts, figures, deeds
and misdeeds
each minute of the day
a mindful chatterbox
you are
but i like you
the challenge
and mysteries
you throw to me
to find out who you actually are
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Normatively the Western universalist belief posits that people throughout the world should embrace Western values, institutions, and culture because they embody the highest, most enlightened, most liberal, most rational, most modern, and most civilized thinking of humankind. In the emerging world of ethnic conflict and civilizational clash, Western belief in the universality of Western culture suffers three problems: it is false; it is immoral; and it is dangerous.
quote by Samuel P. Huntington
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Just to Get Upset
I wish you knew what I felt inside for you...
But you do!
And you screwed that up.
Yes you.
To blow us up!
And then you hand me a bucket,
Of corrupted love.
What am I suppose to do with this?
Argue about it to feed your evil need.
And we do.
Yes we do.
Yes we,
Do!
Do...
Too much.
Just to get upset,
Too much.
And refuse to listen,
Too much.
And want to understand,
Too much.
Without comprehending,
Too much.
YES...
We do,
Do!
Do...
Too much.
Just to get upset,
Too much.
And refuse to listen,
Too much.
And want to understand,
Too much.
Without comprehending,
Too much.
YES...
We do,
Do!
I wish you knew what I felt inside for you.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The difference between science and the fuzzy subjects is that science requires reasoning while those other subjects merely require scholarship.
quote by Robert A. Heinlein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
True Leadership Offends
A true leadership offends.
Especially those who have grown,
To believe...
Their lack of comprehending it,
Depends upon how often...
They can prevent true leadership,
From becoming one that succeeds.
People scream for representation.
And delay those factors...
By an increased agitation.
But it is they who betray themselves this way!
With a determination stuck,
In a vapid decay.
A true leadership offends.
Especially those who have grown,
To believe...
Their lack of comprehending it,
Depends upon how often...
They can prevent true leadership,
From becoming one that succeeds.
With wishes of an independence,
That fractures and does not mend.
Raises false hopes of a failed democracy.
That eventaully introduces oppressive tyranny!
Giving a people spoiled by greed...
Exactly the kind of government,
No longer providing individual needs.
A tyranny comes to control as done.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!