Come beauty come/ Dodi ljepoto dodi
The moon hurtful beyond the earth
Biting the midnight hour
Spills the quivering made of light
To summon the whole into a song
Come beauty come
The night is never old
The sunlit glow beyond the earth
Burning the desert soil
Spills the quivering made of light
To summon the whole into a song
Come beauty come
The day is never old
The waters below the roar of the sky
Soothed in a dropp through the sea
Spills the quivering made of light
To summon the whole into a song
Come beauty come
The ocean is never old
The air the seal of breathing
Rising the circles through the wind
Spills the quivering made of light
To summon the whole into a song
Come beauty come
For life is never old
Mjesec bolan nad zemljom
Što grize ponocni sat
Prosipa drhtaj od svjetla
Dodi ljepoto dodji
Noc ne stari nikad
I suncev sjaj nad zemljom
Što morem se slegnu u kap
Prosipa drhtaj od svjetla
Da prizove sve u poj
Dodi ljepoto dodji
Dan ne stari nikad
Vode pod hukom neba
Što morem se slegnu u kap
Prospu drhtaj od svjetla
Da prozovu sve u poj
Dodi ljepoto dodji
Okean ne stari nikad
Vazduh disanja pecat
Što krugove vjetrom diže
Prosipa drhtaj od svjetla
Da prizove sve u poj
Dodi ljepoto dodi
Život ne stari nikad
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Nosi me kamen
Nosi me kamen zemljom oko vrata
S kamenom rođen već sam teret svijeta
Sezamska ćutnja sopstvenih vrata
S pticom u kamenu bez krila i leta
Ulaskom survan prevrnut tas
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
Nosi me kamen zemljom oko vrata
Nosi me uzbrdo odronom slomljen
Visinom do eha što odriče ga glas
Do vrha grla zapet težak nijemo sklonjen
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
Nosi me kamen a ja nosim nijemost
Nosi me kamen a ja riječi nosim
Nosi me kamen težak kao riječi
Nosi me kamen a ja pusta golemost
Od kamena bolestan kamenom se liječim
Spomenom što ga od kamena prosim
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting for you /Cekanje na tebe
The midnight toll in the clock
Maybe Sunday maybe never
I spit the pigeon onto my palm
A crying handprint
A second silenced within a hope
Maybe Sunday maybe never
Maybe Sunday maybe never
Cekanje na tebe
Ponoc je kucala u satu
Mozda nedelja mozda nikad
Ispljunut golup na dlanu
Proplakan otisak
Utihnut nadanjem cas
Mozda nedelja mozda nikad
Mozda nedelja mozda nikad
2009.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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I build within the houses I will never live in (Nafaka)
the beds I sleep in I have never made
rains I drink I will never fall with
and the rains I fall in I never drank
the wind I breathe embracing the sides of the worls
what I want I can say no more
open for everything
for happiness and sorrow
good and evil
a cloud and a sun
even though
what I say can embrace me no more
u kucama gradim koje stanovala nisam
u krevetu spavam koji pospremila nisam
kise pijem s kojima pasti nikad necu
s kisama padam koje nikad popila nisam
s vjetrom disem koji strane svijeta grli
sve sto hocu vise ne mogu da kazem
otvorena za sve
za srecu i patnje
za dobro i zlo
oblake i sunca
iako
sve sto hocu vise ne moze da me zagrli
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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O tebi
O tebi ne govorim ljudima jer shvatili ne bi
O tebi govorim
Tek listu kad lomno padne na tlo
Sumraku kad te razlije u boje
I rubu ponornog sjećanja mog
Tek tmini kada progovori glasno
Suzu prolomljenu u dnu crnog oka
Što kanuti neće nikad
Tek vratima odškrinutim i odjeku koraka
Zalutalim pragovima što kuće svoje traže
Otkucaju srca i posljednjom mrežom
Zahvaćenu vodu što kroz konope
Nazad u izvor lije
O tebi ljepoto moja
Ne govorim ni tebi
Jer čak ni ti shvatio ne bi
Da s površine riječi ništa se ne kreće
I ništa u dubine vratiti se neće
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Human Eye
God made the eye-
An extension of brain:
To see the beauty of all things,
He made.
God made the eye-
The mirror of the brain:
To show the mind’s beauty
Within.
God made the eye-
A camera:
To picture Nature’s lively snaps,
For man.
God made the eye-
A receiver:
To gather photic stimuli
For thought.
God made the eye-
Lovely:
To give expression to the face
Of man.
God made the eye-
For sight:
To perceive what the environs
Can give.
God made the eye-
For knowing world of good and bad:
To walk the roads in Heaven’s light,
On earth.
God made the eye-
For seeing light in dark alleys:
To look before one leaps in life
On earth.
God made the eye-
With two fine lids:
To prevent vice
From reaching mind.
God made the eye-
To see and feel:
The Omniscient Lord
Of creation.
God made the eye-
To know His love
And mercy great:
For man and beast.
God made the eye-
To see the light
Of Godliness
On earth’s terrain.
God made the eye-
To choose the road
That leads to Hell
Or to Heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-22-2008
poem by John Celes
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Dodi got a lot of criticism when he began dating Princess Diana. No one seemed to think he was good enough for her.
quote by Lorna Luft
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauty and the Candlestick
Even beauty must have light
To wander through the darkness of night
Or else she may stumble
Although the light be dim
It will become brighter with him
Even when the storm rumbles
The darkness will not hide for long
Beauty will have its song
Even if it must be a mumble
The light's heat will burn the tips
And it's wax will cry and drip
Leaving beauty to be humbled
But find that light and she may
Find he's waiting as he lay
Hoping his beauty will not crumble.
poem by Airda Jones
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Nestling
When to summon the sky
Little nestling?
When to summon the sky?
And suffer the risk - abscond in dread -
The knowledge of sort that you'll be dead
Upon a calamitous fall;
Or taken in flight - a hawkish pounce -
Demolished as prey; your fate pronounce
You gone, and to never recall.
O when to summon the sky
Little nestling?
When to summon the sky?
Aborting a den with
Feathered bed,
Unwavering mother who
Saw you fed -
Surrendering all so
You may spread
Your reach of tentative wings!
‘Tis only instinct -
E'er the reason -
Forging life:
The Nesting Season
And the trials it brings.
So up and summon the sky
Little nestling,
Up! and summon the sky!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Sky Rain
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky sky
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Heraclitus Fr.30
The world is becoming the bruise in my heart
The desert skin wearing the burns of the dark
The burns of the light
It’s placed in the accords of infliction
The thought of the rain and wind the volcano and the grain
A re-creation of endless circles
The spheric cages of the sky and earth
Dressed in moss my chilly waitings are
The soul of the north freezes my breath
Reality swallowed in a piece of question
Infinitely pushes the edges of the fall
The finite stuck within a dream
Where have I heard the eternal rhythm of the tribe
The beating of the earth within its step
The breathing of the water dripping down
The walls of the caves
Where have I seen the volcano lava
From the centre of nothing into the infinite
The flame was singing instead of me
From secret to secret lit up died out
Peaceful fires of order
Among which I burned
Written in 1995.
Svijet mi postaje modrica na srcu
Koža pustinje sa opekotinom od mraka
Sa opekotinom od svjetla
Staje u akorde stradanja
Misao kiše i vjetra vulkana i grumena
Ponovno stvaranje beskrajnih kružnica
Kružni kavezi zemlje i neba
Obrasla mahovinom ledna mi č ekanja
Sjeverna duša ledi mi dah
Pod kriškom pitanja progutana stvarnost
U nedogled gura rubove pada
Gdje se u konač nost sabija san
Otkud sam č ula vječ ni ritam plemena
Otkucaj zemlje u njegovim stopama
Disanje vode u iskapavanju
Sa zidova peć ina
Otkud sam vidjela lavine vulkana
Iz grotla nič eg u beskraj
Umjesto mene pjevao je plamen
Iz tajne u tajnu palila se gasila
Mirna svjetla poretka
Izmeđ u njih gorjela sam ja
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Beauty Of A Poem
The beauty of a poem
The beauty of music
The beauty of light
The beauty of life
The beauty which makes us want to live life more
The beauty which pains us inside
The beauty in longing.
The beauty we come upon by surprise
The beauty of the day and the beauty of the night
The beauty we all have inside us
The beauty we can see and feel and never explain
The beauty that lifts us up
The beauty that makes us want to live more
The beauty that makes us reach out to God
The beauty we want to thank God for
The beauty of lilacs
The beauty of autumn leaves
The beauty of the people we love
The beauty that pervades life
The beauty that turns away from us
And will not let us be a part of it
The beauty we hold on to fragilely
As a driven leaf
The beauty the beauty the beauty
Oh life oh God of goodness oh death
The beauty we can never see
And the Beauty within us all
Oh God
The Beauty in us and Beyond us all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Beauty, Beauty
Beauty, beauty in the light. Beauty, Beauty falling through. How sweet must beauty, beauty be. Beauty, beauty how it's happy. Beauty, beauty in the sky and in the grass. Beauty, beauty in the trees. Beauty, beauty on the ground. Beauty, beauty crawling on the ground. Beauty, beauty always climbing. Beauty, beauty that we are sirrounded by.
poem by Shania K. Younce
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Beauty In You Boils Like Wine Yet You Are So Divine
You are eternal so is love
Everything is for change but not beauty of my love..
Beauty in you is admired by all
Here i'm as adorable not for all..
Beauty in you boils like wine yet you are so divine
Beauty is you that's true
Honey.. it's true mirror never lies you..
I never lie but can lie for you and
For your happiness can die for you..
Beauty in you boils like wine yet you are so divine
Beauty is sacred so are you
Beauty is priceless so in you
You are precious but not for the world
Can bet anything to make you my world
Beauty in you boils like wine yet you are so divine
Beautiful is you not my life
Your beauty is immortal not my eyes
Oh Mine...
Your beauty is the way to heaven
Show me way to your heart which is next to seven..
Take me the way i am and
make me the way you want..
Beauty in you boils like wine yet you are so divine
You are my love worth to die for
You are my freedom worth to fight for..
I made my guts to compromise
Beauty in you is worth a sacrifice..
Beauty in you boils like wine yet you are so divine
My words can sail but are not for sale
Can sacrifice in love to make you my fairy tale..
This song of mine is only for you my sunshine
I can sing this song specially for you my divine..
Beauty in you boils like wine yet you are so divine
I've signed your name on each dropp of my sweat and
Will dream of you till the last day of my breath..
Beauty in you boils like wine yet you are so divine
Beauty in you boils like wine yet you are so divine..
poem by Dr Vinay Sirigere
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Inkwell Spills
Inkwell
spills
on
the frills
of my frock
drip
drip
drip
blackened sock.
Inkwell
spills
over
the lines
of my sonnet
drip
drip
drip
blackened bonnet.
Out into the rain
breathe in the air.
Ocean spray on my face
Wild wind in my hair.
I climb
I canter
over mountains
and hills
while
drip
drip
drip
the Inkwell spills
poem by Frances May
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Life Is A Long Song
When youre falling awake and you take stock of the new day,
And you hear your voice croak as you choke on what you need to say,
Well, dont you fret, dont you fear,
I will give you good cheer.
Lifes a long song.
Lifes a long song.
Lifes a long song.
If you wait then your plate I will fill.
As the verses unfold and your soul suffers the long day,
And the twelve oclock gloom spins the room,
You struggle on your way.
Well, dont you sigh, dont you cry,
Lick the dust from your eye.
Lifes a long song.
Lifes a long song.
Lifes a long song.
We will meet in the sweet light of dawn.
As the baker street train spills your pain all over your new dress,
And the symphony sounds underground put you under duress,
Well dont you squeal as the heel grinds you under the wheel.
Lifes a long song.
Lifes a long song.
Lifes a long song.
But the tune ends too soon for us all.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to Mother Nature
I pray to thee mother nature,
Thine beauty none can match,
Sweet or sour thy feature,
Life or death thee hatch.
Sweet is thy misery,
Sour is thy love,
I ought to be thy slave,
And thine shall guide me from above.
The seasons, some harsh some mellow,
In which some sing and some play bass cello,
Thou bring me happiness,
As thou ar't all beautiful.
An ode I summon to thine stranger,
An ode I summon to thee,
Inside the bearer thy beauty lie,
It's all the magic inside ones eye.
poem by Aditya Mudbhary
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M9
as you lie there
on dried tears, shall i summon
more light, to lighten the
darkness of your
eyelashes,
shall i summon rain
to cool the windows of
the soul,
must i bend some more
like the reeds to
kiss the lovely
pond of the marshes?
i wade naked to your
waters,
but can still see the rain
inside your eyes
those broken glasses
inside those dreams
i stop beside a boat
but then i cut the rope
and let it go
it is dark now,
and i do not know
what a game is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dodi
Live peacefully and say your mind,
Live joyfully and express yourself;
And like using a black puppet in the land of your muse!
But your bows and arrows are now with Dodi your friend,
So live wisely enough without disturbing others.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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You are the most beautiful
The beauty just for you,
I can't describe your beauty from inside and outside,
Your beauty made the people surprised on it,
Your beauty overcome on the beauty of moon,
Your beauty overcome on the beautiful nature,
I can't describe your beauty on the paper,
Because it's overcome to the world,
Because broken whole the rules,
Because made me busy,
In your eyes, check, lips, chest, , , etc,
Your beauty surpassed description,
Tell me how can I describe your beauty,
poem by Omar Khalid Hashim
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His Work Is His Poem
HIS WORK IS HIS POEM
His work is his poem
And if he does not write
He has not earned his rest.
Thus these meager lines
Written before Shabbat
So his soul may sing ‘Lecha Dodi’
freely.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Water traces-Vodeni spomenik
Like a curtain of rain
That the hand will never
Be able to move it away
Not even when the eye opens up a drop
Like pools full of thoughts
Dissolving amidst the fall
A sound of the first thunder
Removed from the cloud
With the lightning the fire in hand
The thought dying alone on the breath
Our breathing it breathes
The islands are painting the waters
The waters are painting the skies
The skies are painting out faces
Are we just- the water traces
Vodeni spomenik
Kao zavjesa od kiše
Što ruka je nikad
S prozora skloniti neće
Čak ni kada oko otvori kapi
Kao bazen prepun misli
Što se rastvara sred pada
S oblaka smaknut zvuk prvog groma
S munjom s vatrom u ruci
Hladna kiša prži mi dah
Na dahu riječ obamrla sama
Našim disanjem diše
Ostrva slikaju vode
Vode slikaju neba
Neba nam slikaju lik
Da li smo samo-vodeni spomenik?
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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