I Need To Hear!
I want to hear.
how much your language is.
His way to express so soft.
And how English is so touching! And so tender! In your voice.
because my, is so rude!
and yours, is so spherical
and when I expected for one R
Always comes a Th
so smooth!
That´s confused me!
that reminds me when the smoothness of your tongue meet mine.
And overcome and resign me!
Only in English! ! !
two famous tongue can be meet.
mellow and back words.
Only for you, because your wet time i insist! And you have a beautiful weather! ! ! Can unite drops and sounds.
Oh! No, beautiful language!
Oh! wrong again? ? ? What beautiful wet tongue! ! ! !
poem by Mirna Morgan
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Related quotes
Objectified
All beautiful things meet their demise
Flowers in bloom surely will die
Frozen are the wings of the dead butterfly
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Clouds of gray spoil the light of the skies
The ocean must fall in order to rise
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
I knew I was doomed when you first said, “Hi.”
Two ships in the night, we were bound to collide
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Four months can pass in the blink of an eye
We lose ourselves without having to try
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
The simplest words become hard to define
You can’t see the truth when you cover your eyes
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Your pay the price to take this ride
Slowly, you find that you’re living a lie
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Pictures of us will fade over time
We become strangers in a world so wide
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
You’ll keep on searching for what you won’t find
You’ll lose your faith while I lose my mind
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Sometimes your morals get left behind
It will be too late when you realize
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
poem by Vaida Marea
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Write, Write, Write
Write in the language you dream in.
But this had never made sense
as far as I remember, I’ve never dreamt in nouns and verbs,
but always in huge boxes,
or dark abandoned malls,
or long flights
where my slippers are lost and my baggage,
missing.
Perhaps i should write in the language
that wakes me
That keeps me restless,
that feeds my hunger,
that reminds me that
i am alive.
it’s a matter of hearing
the heartbeat of one’s words
I can’t wait for more writers to write
Perhaps if the work of critics and teachers
will eventually bear fruit,
it will not be too far off that the streets of my town
will one day be filled again
with the lyrical lilt of my own language
I also can’t blame those
who continue to write in English
and live
in English
which is easy to dismiss as snooty
and elitist,
and alien—
even if it is the same village street,
the same home
that is being woven into words.
A tongue only becomes alien
when we keep it at the gate,
at the door.
The stranger is only as strange
as when we do not know his name,
and he does not know ours.
the job of the writer is not really
to master his language,
but to make it his own.
Not just to study its syntax
and shape but
to invite it into his home.
To kidnap bored English from the court offices
and banks
and schools,
and bring it to our beautiful messy rooms.
To tell it our stories,
whisper into its ear
our dreams,
and if the timing is right,
and the intention is clear,
then to show it our hearts
and we’ll begin to write.
Really really write.
Without guilt.
* reflections by L.L. YPIL
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The English Language
English reminds me of a language too bold,
Speaking this tongue is like a magical realm.
In this realm we spoke too audaciously and lovingly,
To be free and caring about the old, the very youngest old,
A fine and cosy people of strength in the body,
That soon overpowered the standards of everyday life.
English is a spoken language of England,
The old refrain from the seas of language and thought,
For the seas mix their sentences and paragraphs,
Too tired is the sea of too many friends of the water,
Water is fighting for words that carry meaning
With the life to save a slave who asks for the life of meaning.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Too Beautiful For Words
Verse 1
When I try to describe how I feel when you hold me
I get butterflies lullabies, its hard to explain
Like the sent of a rose or the sound of the rain
Its too precious and too wonderful to give it a name
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart
Verse 2
Its on the tip of my tongue
But my lips are still sealed
Only violins and their innocence can show you how I feel
And I hear them again
At the end of the day
Im all teary-eyed when we kiss good-bye
Theres nothing I can say
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside of me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart
Verse 3
Must be a million times
Ive tried to express this love of mine
When it goes this deep, when it tastes this sweet
Its not easy to define
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart
song performed by by Christina Aguilera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Language That The Poor Wants To Speak
do you speak good English?
do you take pride in it and then use it to impress others
and swindle them
into a belief that they are inferior?
they have feelings too
of humiliation
which even in such a sad state
wish that their humiliation
speak good English still
they always think that English will give them
a good job
a better standing in the society
a flare of fashionable tongue
you make them cry
but still they want to speak that cry in English too
foolish!
but can you blame them?
you who hold that power and might
you who have taken all what they once had
and made them
worse within
themselves
despite which,
they still want to be like you
to speak like you
a god
how sad!
you have never known the language of love
the grammar of generosity
the syntax of sympathy
that language that good English
sometimes has forgotten
to utter
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Allusion To The French Song. N'entendez Vous Pas Ce Language
CHORUS.
THEN UNDERSTAND YOU NOT (FAIR CHOICE)
THIS LANGUAGE WITHOUT TONGUE OR VOICE?
I.
How often have my tears
Invaded your soft ears,
And dropp'd their silent chimes
A thousand thousand times?
Whilst echo did your eyes,
And sweetly sympathize;
But that the wary lid
Their sluces did forbid.
Cho. THEN UNDERSTAND YOU NOT (FAIR CHOICE)
THIS LANGUAGE WITHOUT TONGUE OR VOICE?
II.
My arms did plead my wound,
Each in the other bound;
Volleys of sighs did crowd,
And ring my griefs alowd;
Grones, like a canon-ball,
Batter'd the marble wall,
That the kind neighb'ring grove
Did mutiny for love.
Cho. THEN UNDERSTAND YOU NOT (FAIR CHOICE)
THIS LANGUAGE WITHOUT TONGUE OR VOICE?
III.
The rheth'rick of my hand
Woo'd you to understand;
Nay, in our silent walk
My very feet would talk;
My knees were eloquent,
And spake the love I meant;
But deaf unto that ayr,
They, bent, would fall in prayer.
Cho. YET UNDERSTAND YOU NOT (FAIR CHOICE)
THIS LANGUAGE WITHOUT TONGUE OR VOICE?
IV.
No? Know, then, I would melt
On every limb I felt,
And on each naked part
Spread my expanded heart,
That not a vein of thee
But should be fill'd with mee.
Whilst on thine own down, I
Would tumble, pant, and dye.
Cho. YOU UNDERSTAND NOT THIS (FAIR CHOICE);
THIS LANGUAGE WANTS BOTH TONGUE AND VOICE.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Suicidal English
A front to bulldoze the world?
The humble English language inches
Its way round the world picking up
A snobbishness that many ignorant
Souls would die to keep as if it is
The language of their souls
Particularly among Asiatics
Where some happily give up their
Mother tongue just to flaunt
Their mastery of a tongue
Which carries no historical naunces
Of their own, no cultural sounds
Which have taken an eternity.
To emerge in their own lingo;
A treasure then blindly
Carted away in the backyard,
A superficial sophistication keenly pursued;
Its attainment accentuating the
Shallowness and inadequacy of
Their own personality, identity and growth.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Not a barrier- the language
Music has no language,
I can enjoy your tongue.
Glances have no language,
I can understand their intentions.
Touches have no language,
I can feel their meanings.
Not in same tongue though we are
No less do we communicate.
20.01.99, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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yes, what if God does not speak english at all?
you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before
that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God
of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly
but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?
well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important
and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,
albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,
yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,
but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound
so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....
dear God
do you really...not speak english?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Miss Beautiful
Beautiful is an underword to describe you,
Oh poor english, give me more words,
Dont envy me you lexicon,
I need words with virtue and weight,
Every lexicon I have opened,
Should I call her marvellous,
Well I am more than marvelling,
Should I call her beautiful,
She is not equal to others,
Since the lexicon cant give me more,
I will call her my miss beautiful
If beauty was a contest,
I bet she is winning,
Her smile, posture and eyes,
In others, I found it not
My miss beautiful,
Holding you in my arms,
Telling you, you are beautiful,
I denounce English,
She refused with words that suit you,
Stars are beautiful,
But you are not my star,
The rainbow is beautiful,
Yet you are not my rainbow,
You are far beyond that,
My miss beautiful
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Different Languages
On the factory floor
Two ethnic women speak
In their native tongue
A language that flows beautifully
Their tongues roll
And the impact of a d or a t can be felt
Amongst all their chatter
The women laugh
That’s when others start to look
The sound of the language
May not be to everyone’s delight
No one cares what they say
Then all of a sudden......
LAUGHTER
And everyone starts to look with fright
What are they laughing at?
Is it me is it her is it him
Looking around
What did I do wrong?
Did I forget something?
Is it my zipper?
The women continue to chat
And laugh
The laughter now becoming too much
For the annoyed man
Of only one language
He goes to the boss
And files a complaint
Please boss tell those women over there
That it is not right to speak in their tongue
The boss agrees
And we are all back to uncultured boredom
As the sound of the
Lovely t and d end
So reigns the simple sounds of
A language that doesn’t flow
And the machines
That continue to sew
poem by James Dylan
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In The Sweet By And By
There's a land that is fairer than day
And by faith we can see it afar
For the father waits over the way
To prepare us a dwelling place there
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
We shall sing on that beautiful shore
The melodious songs of the blest
And our spirit shall sorrow no more
Not a sign for the blessing of rest
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
In the sweet by and by, ohh
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The most beautiful words in the English language are 'not guilty'.
quote by Maxim Gorky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet By And By
There's a land that is fairer than day
And by faith we can see it afar
And the father waits over the way
To prepare us a dwelling place there.
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore.
--- Instrumental ---
To our bountiful father above
We will offer our tribute of praise
For the glorious gift of his love
And the blessings that hallow our days.
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore.
--- Instrumental ---
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore
In the sweet by and by
We shall meet on that beautiful shore.
We shall meet on that beautiful shore...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Classical Tamil World Conference (Semmozhi Tamizh Ulaga Manadu)
Through you, I came, Mother;
Lucky was my birth in Bharat, my Motherland;
I was nurtured and grew up by mother’s milk;
I drew strength from my mother’s love.
I knew the world through my mother-tongue;
I learnt most things by mother-tongue;
Thanks to my dear earthly mother;
Thanks to my Mother, Tamil!
The place where I was born was Tamilnadu;
Tamil is my mother-tongue;
Tamil was my first breath;
My first cry was in Tamil.
My last breath shall be Tamil;
My life will be for Tamil;
I am proud of my mother-tongue, Tamil;
I am proud to be a Tamilian!
Tamil is a great language;
Tamil is a popular language;
Tamil is an ancient language;
Tamil is a classical language.
Tamil is a world language;
Tamil is a language of Gods!
Dedicated to ‘Classical Tamil World Conference,2010, Coimbatore’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-06-2010
poem by John Celes
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Your Name on my Tongue
Your name on my tongue
is a beautiful thing.
Your name is a wonderful
thing to sing.
If I whisper it softly
it's like a breeze.
It's an altar to which
I fall on my knees.
Your name on my tongue
I can even taste.
Your name on my tongue
is so well placed.
It's where it belongs
behind my lips.
When I open them
out your name slips.
I speak it. I hear it.
I praise its sound and know
I'll say it over and again
because I love it so.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The two most beautiful words in the English language are "check enclosed".
quote by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Language lost
My language lost
My identity lost.
Excuse me
I could not save my language.
I am forced to use foreign tongue
I am forced to shun all that are mine.
Excuse me
I could not save my language
I could not save my life
And I am not fine.
I want to talk in my mother tongue
I want to live in my home
I want to tell my Father to come and rescue.
My language lost
My identity lost.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Tongue Tied
Before I spoke
Your voice was moving here
The water safe
This way
That way
I feel his thoughts
Your choice
It's all there
There comes a time to find
Piece of mind
Take some time to let go
'Cos I wanna know
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
The day I mean
A sign a world too
To get you back in mine
For a time
The cloudy phase
But I do wanan hear from you
The only one to feel
In a here
You have a mind of your own
And I wanan know
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
We appear there is fear
Be right here
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
song performed by by Holly Valance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have I Told You...
Beautiful, are you, as the flowers of the field.
Beautiful, is the sound of your voice.
Beautiful, is the touch of your hand.
Beautiful, are the eyes that speak of love.
Beautiful, is your understanding and kindness.
Beautiful, is the way you always consider others.
Beautiful, are the courage of your convictions.
Beautiful, are the silent, countless words of, I love you.
Beautiful, is the softness of your touch.
Beautiful, are the children that you hold dear.
Beautiful, is your faith, honesty and loyalty.
Beautiful, are the people, you bless with your love.
Beautiful, are you secret acts of charity.
Beautiful, is the goodness, you give to all.
Beautiful, is the way your never judge anyone.
Beautiful, is your never dreaming...that you are indeed so beautiful.
Beautiful, is your heart...your very soul.
Beautiful, is the way you have made this a better world.
Beautiful, is the helping hand, you extend to all.
Have I told you, you are beautiful in every way?