Cine poate număra lacrimile unei inimi rănite?
quote by Marius Alexandru (March 2022)
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Related quotes
Linistea ta tulburatoare si rece
Despre cuvintele mele, ce parere ai?
Avid dupa admiratia ta pierduta, le-am pus aici,
in acest loc unde toti vorbesc o alta limba.
Ei nu vor intelege, insa tu, daca vreodata vei ajunge din gresala sa pasesti pe aici
ai sa intelegi (poate)
dar sper sa nu fie prea tarziu
si sa iti pese putin, de ce scriu pentru tine,
in aceasta limba.
Nu-ti fie teama, sa-mi spui, inca sunt indragostit
de mirajul tau,
ca o cometa, dansezi cu stelele, si voi astepta sa te intorci, sa iti spun povestea completa,
si sa pot vedea din nou urmele incandescente
ce le lasa picioarele tale in aceasta lume din mintea mea.
(...)
Ar trebui poate, sa fiu realist, nu-mi face bine sa fiu ridicol, sa visez, sa sper,
dar viata mea are o singura eroina.
poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speaking Spanglish
I'm going to my casa
Cuz I have to do my homework
Even though I no gusta
Will you walk with me in the parque?
Or maybe go and watch something playing in the cine?
We can be best amigos
If you want.
Do I speak funny?
Do I use strange words?
Well, it's cuz
I'm speaking Spanglish!
poem by Gina Durst
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Tastes Like Sugar
Black beans and white beans,
Pine, vine, dine, fine, cine, nine, mine, wine, sine, tine;
But it tastes like sugar!
So don't eat much to run your stomach,
For the confidential reign is all about your hidden love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seeds Of Love (English / Romanian / Japanese)
Powder of my bones
Essence of my soul
Grains of a black soil
Soaked in flavored oil
Sour bitter sweet:
-Guess under whose feet?
(..Might find out
..when my seeds
I'll no more miss..)
Pudra oaselor mele
A sufletului meu esenta
Boabe de pamant
negru imbibat
ulei inmieresmat
Dulce acru-amar
Oare sub al cui picior,
Ghiceste?
..poate aflu.. (de mor)
cand de samanta
nu-mi va mai fi dor..
愛の種
私の骨の粉
私の魂のエキス
黒い土の粒
フレーバーオイルにつかった
すっぱくて、苦くて、甘い：
誰の足の下か 当ててみて？
poem by Elena Sandu
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După cum puteți vedea, XRumer + XEvil a rupt cu succes orice măsuri anti-bot pe site-ul dumneavoastră.
Oh, da, XEvil 4.0 poate rezolva Google ReCaptcha-2 prea. Fără nici o problemă - doar să verificați videoclipurile despre XEvil în YouTube.
Și puteți folosi XEvil pentru site-ul dvs.! Creșterea popularității și de a face bani, ca alți proprietari fericit XEvil ;)
Mult noroc!
quote by XEvilLooth
Submitted by XEvilLoothVQ
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Collection
Collection, ten, net, on, no, ton, not, colt, cot, tell, line, tin;
But evil appears out of the North! !
Collection, ion, toll, Cole, Lot, lot, let, cone, cell, in, cine;
The prophets prophesy falsely to gain their wealth! !
And the preachers bear rule by their own authority;
But the people around do love it so.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doar a mea e
Mi-e teama ca nu o sa te mai iubesc,
atunci cand o sa-mi dau seama, ca nu te mai fascinez, ca alta data.
Mi-e teama ca atunci, o sa mor cu adevarat
ca o sa ma schimb, ca o sa incep sa port si eu masca ipocriziei
la fel ca toti, ca o sa mint doar ca sa ajung in patul unei fete
pe care in realitate nu dau doi bani.
O sa dau minciuni pe iubirea uneia pe care nu o iubesc
si o sa devin din ce in ce mai bun
si totodata ascuns de iubire
si atunci eu o sa fiu in locul tau
si cercul devine cerc, asa cum tu i-ai luat locul celui ce te-a ranit
si ai simtit, ceea ce simt eu acum.
E dizgratios din partea mea sa dau vina pe tine,
pentru ca vina e a mea,
iubire.
Vina e a mea.
poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
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Hope
The Tree of Knowledge we in Eden prov'd;
The Tree of Life was thence to Heav'n remov'd:
Hope is the growth of Earth, the only Plant,
Which either Heav'n, or Paradise cou'd want.
Hell knows it not, to Us alone confin'd,
And Cordial only to the Human Mind.
Receive it then, t'expel these mortal Cares,
Nor wave a Med'cine, which thy God prepares.
poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
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Orotund!
Osmosis,
Tour, tournament!
Ossify,
Mile, milestone!
Rehearsal,
Back-to-back;
Under oath,
But, remember the past.
Orotund!
Be the first to comment,
Fit, fitness!
Be the first to ask,
But, free and fair!
Cinema, in, cine, am, me, mine, mean, came;
But, be the first to know.
Dross, across!
Ridding on the back of a tiger;
But, your friend was dragged naked from the Palace.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Blue Magic
The blues of love with the blue magic,
And like a better sleep in the room of your lover;
But let the realities of love bath you all day long.
Mine, dine, line, nine, fine, tine, vine, cine, sine, pine, wine;
And like the bed of roses that you slept on last night!
But the ideal care of your muse is all that you need beside your lover.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Nu si eu
Pasesti afara din viata mea, intr-un loc al tau, unde eu nu te pot urma, nu pentru ca nu as vrea
dar pentru ca tu nu vrei ca eu sa te urmez.
Cred ca ti-e frica, de iubire
sa nu te raneasca din nou,
dar a mea nu e ca a lor,
iubirea mea nu va decide niciodata, ca s-a saturat de tine,
si nici eu, si orice ar crede lumea despre mine,
orice ai crede tu despre mine
nu as fi ales alt pat, in care sa dorm
daca altcineva in afara de tine s-ar afla in el.
Daca ai stii, cat de multe lucruri,
as fi facut pentru tine, cat de mult..
poate atunci ai fi ales sa stai.
poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
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Catherine
Catherine, care, ca, Cater, it, an, than, art, then, ant, train, near;
Fix the net in its place and let me enjoy your muse,
For the game is about to start on this field!
Catherine, ear, eat, era, tea, ate, tar, rat, chart, hear, Nat, thin, cine, tear;
I want to secure a place for my head and i need your help!
And like the muse of your love in the land of roses.
Catherine, teen, car, cat, the, in, Cain, ten, net, three, tree, tan, thee;
This life is like bananas and apples!
But your muse is all that i need;
For peace brings in more joy than war!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Charm for a Mad Woman
O heavenly med'cine, panacea high,
Restore this raging woman to her health,
More worth than hugest sums of worldly wealth,
Exceedingly more worth than any wealth.
O light of grace and reason from the sky,
Illuminate her mad-conceited mind,
And melancholy cease her wits to blind,
Cease, fearful melancholy, her wits to blind.
poem by Gabriel Harvey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pentru Nimeni (nu citi)
Am asteptat destul, sa te intorci.
E timpul, poate, sa merg si eu mai departe,
si sa pun mana pe visele ce le visez
in lipsa ta,
pentru ca nu pot sa raman o biata umbra.
Sunt pana la urma,
creatia ta monstruasa si dementa.
E un secret,
dar eu inca te iubesc,
si a fost o prostie sa ma intrebi daca am fost vreodata fericit cu tine, pentru ca nu am fost niciodata mai fericit ca atunci cand iti juram iubire, si mi-as fi dat viata pentru tine.
Inca nu am suficienta ura, pentru a simti altceva.
Ai reusit insa sa ma faci sa-l urasc pe dumnezeu mai mult ca niciodata,
cu toate ca nu cred ca ar putea exista,
dar am nevoie de ura,
ca sa pot supravietui fara iubire.
poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
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Sonnet XV: Since to Obtain Thee
His Remedy for Love
Since to obtain thee nothing will be stead,
I have a med'cine that shall cure my love,
The powder of her heart dried, when she is dead,
That gold nor honor ne'er had power to move,
Mixt with her tears, that ne'er her true-love crost
Nor at fifteen ne'er long'd to be a bride,
Boil'd with her sighs in giving up the ghost,
That for her late deceased husband died;
Into the same then let a woman breathe,
That, being chid, did never word reply,
With one thrice-married's prayers, that did bequeath
A legacy to stale virginity.
If this receipt have not the power to win me,
Little I'll say, but think the Devil's in me.
poem by Michael Drayton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: This World Goes By Your Externals
This world loves seeing me powdered, perfumed!
My face wearing mask; my lips with a ‘smile’!
They respect only the well-attired,
Who speak out phrases/ praises in grand style.
The world wants me to appear always wise,
Promising lots, seldom carrying out things;
They love to hear me utter blatant lies,
To drink more wine and keep exchanging rings!
The world loves seeing me travel by cars,
Driven by chauffeurs, uniformed and smart;
Be sought after by girls and by cine-stars,
And go around the world to every part.
But I just love to be myself always!
Natural, honest, hard-working all my days.
poem by John Celes
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The Hour When We Shall Meet Again
Dim hour! that sleep'st on pillowing clouds afar,
O rise and yoke the turtles to thy car!
Bend o'er the traces, blame each ligering dove!
And give me to the bosom of my love!
My gentle love, caressing and carest,
With heaving heart shall cradle me to rest!
Shed the warm tear-drop from her smiling eyes,
Lull with fond woe, and med'cine me with sighs!
Chilled by the night, the drooping rose of May
Mourns the long absence of the lovely day;
Young day returning at her promised hour
Weps o'er the sorrows of her fav'rite flower;
Weeps the soft dew, the balmy gale she sighs,
And darts a trembling lustre from her eyes.
New life and joy th' expanding floweret feels:
His pitying mistress mourns, and mourning heals!
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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The Looks Of A Lover Enamoured
THOU, with thy looks, on whom I look full oft,
And find therein great cause of deep delight,
Thy face is fair, thy skin is smooth and soft,
Thy lips are sweet, thine eyes are clear and bright,
And every part seems pleasant in my sight;
Yet wote thou well, those looks have wrought my woe,
Because I love to look upon them so.
For first those looks allured mine eye to look,
And straight mine eye stirred up my heart to love;
And cruel love, with deep deceitful hook,
Choked up my mind, whom fancy cannot move,
Nor hope relieve, nor other help behoove
But still to look; and though I look too much,
Needs must I look because I see none such.
Thus in thy looks my love and life have hold;
And with such life my death draws on apace:
And for such death no med'cine can be told
But looking still upon thy lovely face,
Wherein are painted pity, peace, and grace.
Then though thy looks should cause me for to die,
Needs must I look, because I live thereby.
Since then thy looks my life have so in thrall
As I can like none other looks but thine,
Lo, here I yield my life, my love, and all
Into thy hands, and all things else resign
But liberty to gaze upon thine eyen:
Which when I do, then think it were thy part
To look again, and link with me in heart.
poem by George Gascoigne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Click On 'Poets
When you enter,
Click on 'Poets' and then,
Type in my full name: 'Edward Kofi Louis';
There and then, it will open automatically to my page! !
And, you can read my poems.
Sage, page, cage, rage, mage, marriage, wage;
From time to time!
But not like a runaway dog in the land of your muse;
For, the cat is always in your room.
Fine, dine, wine, vine, cine, sine, line, pine, mine, nine, shine;
Inperfect health,
On to perfection! !
But, it has been a while hearing from you.
Of the miracles of my life,
Of the joy of my muse,
Of the peace of my mind,
And like the muse of your sweet love!
But, not like a runaway dog in the land of your muse.
In the heat,
In the cold,
And like the candlelight of your love!
But click on 'Poets' to find my sweet muse;
For, i do have a message for you.
We are all over there,
Poets of the world! !
But, it has been a very long time hearing from you;
Vender, finder, blender, winder, lender, mender, tender, sender!
And like the muse of love in the land of peace,
But, be my guest at this page.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slender's Ghost
Vide Shakspeare.
Beneath a churchyard yew,
Decay'd and worn with age,
At dusk of eve methought I spied
Poor Slender's Ghost, that whimpering cried,
'O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!'
Ye gentle Bards! give ear,
Who talk of amorous rage,
Who spoil the lily, rob the rose,
Come learn of me to weep your woes:
'O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!'
Why should such labour'd strains
Your formal Muse engage?
I never dreamt of flame or dart,
That fired my breast or pierced my heart,
But sigh'd, 'O sweet Anne Page!'
And you! whose lovesick minds
No med'cine can assuage,
Accuse the leech's art no more,
But learn of Slender to deplore;
'O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!'
And ye! whose souls are held,
Like linnets in a cage;
Who talk of fetters, links, and chains,
Attend and imitate my strains;
'O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!'
And you! who boast or grieve,
What horrid wars ye wage,
Of wounds received from many an eye,
Yet mean as I do, when I sigh,
'O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!'
Hence every fond conceit
Of shepherd or of sage;
'Tis Slender's voice, 'tis Slender's way,
Expresses all you have to say,
'O sweet! O sweet Anne Page!'
poem by William Shenstone
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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