O, poetry, refined, divine [Frumoasă sfântă poezie]
O, poetry, refined, divine,
Which were my God, my only goal,
Your pleasurable vain design
How much was cherished by my soul!
When I grew up like any child
You were my idol from the start,
I was dynamic, I was wild,
And I adored your subtle art.
Then, for my piety was deep
And your myth wanted to pursue,
Although you were so vain and cheap
I sacrificed my soul to you.
poem by Veronica Micle, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Related quotes
You Wanted More
You know the way
You've been before
I've seen the signs
Outside your door
You set the rules
The bitter days
Can't be ignored
It's just the same
Just like before
You wanted more
I love the sun
I love the rain
You gave it up
But all in vain
I love the way
It was before
So bittersweet
To be adored
We had it all
You let it go
You wanted more
But in the end
What is a friend
If not some one
To help pretend
Remember me
You know my name
I'm still the same
But not for you
That's not enough
You wanted more
I love the sun
I love the rain
You gave it up
But all in vain
You couldn't change
You know the score
So bittersweet
To be adored
We had it all
You gave it up
You wanted more
But in the end
What is a friend...
You loved the way
It used to be
The way you are
You and me
You came too late
You left too soon
Just like the rings
Around the moon
We had it all
You let it go
You wanted more
We had it all
You gave it up
You wanted more
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Vain
The stars in the sky
In vain
The tragedy of Hamlet
In vain
The key in the lock
In vain
The sleeping mother
In vain
The lamp in the corner
In vain
The lamp in the corner unlit
In vain
Abraham Lincoln
In vain
The Aztec empire
In vain
The writing hand: in vain
(The shoetrees in the shoes
In vain
The windowshade string upon
the hand bible
In vain—
The glitter of the greenglass
ashtray
In vain
The bear in the woods
In vain
The Life of Buddha
In vain)
poem by Jack Kerouac
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those All Are Vain
Those all are only vain
The quarrel and the sworn enemy
Those all are vain
The anger and the envy
Those are for vain
The greed and the arrogance
All are vain
The stubbornness and the hatred
Vain
The fear and the power
Just only vain
The pride and the hypocrite
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gloriously Vain
Why take the effort to strain your brain?
I am telling you...
I'm gloriously vain.
End your assumptions.
And a need to campaign against,
What you believe after your acknowledgement...
I should restrict and set to comfortable limits.
For you...
This is not my goal to pursue.
I've done my best to ease your mind.
To help you find another game to claim.
Or someone else to annoy if that is your aim!
I am telling you...
I'm gloriously vain.
And doing what I can to uncover the mystery of it!
There is none.
None I wish to resist.
Were you expecting a denial to exist?
I am telling you and not feeling one bit foolish!
I'm gloriously vain and magnificently positive.
In spite of comments derogative made by those in disbelief.
These shoes I wear fit my two feet.
And I stride with pride keeping faith by my side.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moments of turmoil [Clipe de zbucium]
My love, I feel that you're so far away...
You've put your tiny hands upon my head,
But like a wall between us stand today
The memories of times that now are dead.
When my whole being craves you, it's in vain,
You remain still, your eyes stare in the night,
So many secrets full of grief and pain
Get lost in the deep darkness of your sight!
I hope my life will end, because I'm sad,
The wind of passion blows through the leaves green,
I ask to see the face that you once had,
Which until now I've never ever seen.
O, how I wish the pain was cured by time!
So many nights I've cherished it in vain,
I've sacrificed to it my years sublime
I've smiled... Only your heart has been my gain.
You've given it to me! And the abyss
Lies down below this flower nice and sweet,
(But when upon my brow you place your kiss
You do it like in dreams when people meet),
Because the soul, like sorrowful debris,
Preserves in it the light for old times' sake –
And when a ray pervades and reaches me
I feel, my darling, that you're thrilled and shake.
It shines in you and without warning lights
The precipice of what has been before...
I hear the story of my heart's delights,
But I can't understand it any more.
* * *
That's why tonight I really do not care
Enhance my pain or soothe this bloody scar,
I'm asking you, lost woman young and fair,
– Where do you come from and who really are?
poem by George Topîrceanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Moments of turmoil [Clipe de zbucium]
My love, I feel that you're so far away...
You've put your tiny hands upon my head,
But like a wall between us stand today
The memories of times that now are dead.
When my whole being craves you, it's in vain,
You remain still, your eyes stare in the night,
So many secrets full of grief and pain
Get lost in the deep darkness of your sight!
I hope my life will end, because I'm sad,
The wind of passion blows through the leaves green,
I ask to see the face that you once had,
Which until now I've never ever seen.
O, how I wish the pain was cured by time!
So many nights I've cherished it in vain,
I've sacrificed to it my years sublime
I've smiled... Only your heart has been my gain.
You've given it to me! And the abyss
Lies down below this flower nice and sweet,
(But when upon my brow you place your kiss
You do it like in dreams when people meet),
Because the soul, like sorrowful debris,
Preserves in it the light for old times' sake –
And when a ray pervades and reaches me
I feel, my darling, that you're thrilled and shake.
It shines in you and without warning lights
The precipice of what has been before...
I hear the story of my heart's delights,
But I can't understand it any more.
* * *
That's why tonight I really do not care
Enhance my pain or soothe this bloody scar,
I'm asking you, lost woman young and fair,
– Where do you come from and who really are?
poem by George Topîrceanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Cries In Vain
Your cries in vain,
When you look in my eyes what do you see,
My deep sorrows within,
My cries in vain,
Can’t you see how much you hurt me,
You made me cry for you,
Cries in vain that won’t go away,
Take it all away,
I see you looking,
I see that you are fading,
You are a mere ghost to me,
My sorrows within my tears that you cause me to shed,
I waited too long to cry again and again,
I sit back and hold on tight that I won’t cry ever again,
But when I see you,
I cry,
Can’t you see cries are in vain,
WAKE UP,
And now look at me and tell me what do you see,
All you ever will see is me cry in vain.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Poetry Mean To Me
What does poetry mean to me
Poetry is the air I breathe
Poetry is the words that feed
My soul
To make me whole
Poetry is what makes me blossom
In the middle of spring
Poetry is what grows my garden
And makes it flourish with nature
Beauty
Poetry Is
My magical whim's that supply all my
Fantasy and fills my hopes and dreams
Poetry is the strong desire that keep the
Flames of love burning
In the midst of the hour
And lights up the sky
With beautiful hues of colours
Spreads from one globe to
Another
To swim the ocean deep
Just because of love
Poetry is that and more, which I
Hate to carry this on and on
But
Poetry is the love of our life that visit
Us in our dreams
Poetry is
Me and the worlds that wakes every
Morning to bloom and blossom
Even after the death has played it last
Song that breaks our hearts
Poetry is tears and moans
Grief and pain that Hunt's the
Soul
Poetry is the rain crying from
The sky
The sun the moon with the golden
Light
Poetry is a child laughter at play
The tears a child shreds in sadness
They cry
Poetry is just a book of songs you
And I write down in our journal
Each and every day
We
Mix them together again and again
That is poetry
Poetry is life woes
Life happiness
Poetry is life
Here now and after
Poetry is you and I
poem by Carolyn Sears
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Interlude narrative verse for M lady Ernestine
The silent cello waits in vain.
Her owner can no longer play,
her twisted joints in so much pain
Arthritis has now won the day.
Those hands which once caressed the strings
are gnarled and twisted dreadfully
Though in her mind the cello sings,
its silent in reality.
The music stored within its soul
longs for release impatiently.
Its destiny to play a role
assisting some child prodigy.
The owner cannot bear to part
with her treasured instrument.
She holds a dream deep in her heart.
Some one will come who’s one intent
to learn to play the cello well.
Prepared to suffer for their art,
beglamoured by the subtle spell
this cherished cello can impart.
Her children show no interest,
no musical ability.
Perhaps, she thinks it’s for the best
The cello waits impatiently.
One day her grandchild comes to call
A pretty child who’s not yet five.
She exhibits no fear at all
her fingers bring the strings alive.
The cello knows this is the one.
The child it has been waiting for.
and grandma knows she has passed on.
The love she felt so long before.
Before she learnt to play a note.
She knew it was her destiny
that music was the antidote
to soothe her sensitivity..
The chills is lost in wonderment
and strokes the cello lovingly.
This could not be an accident.
It was her grandma’s legacy.
She seemed to know instinctively
Just as her grandmother had done
That music was her destiny.
The cello knew that it had won
In course of time the girl surpassed
The skill her grandma had possessed.
It was the spell the cello cast
She always said that made her best.
When grandma died she died content
Her well loved cello sang again.
Now her grand daughter’s instrument
Their patient wait was not in vain..
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet CI: The One Hope
When vain desire at last and vain regret
Go hand in hand to death, and all is vain,
What shall assuage the unforgotten pain
And teach the unforgetful to forget?
Shall Peace be still a sunk stream long unmet,—
Or may the soul at once in a green plain
Stoop through the spray of some sweet life-fountain
And cull the dew-drenched flowering amulet?
Ah! when the wan soul in that golden air
Between the scriptured petals softly blown
Peers breathless for the gift of grace unknown,—
Ah! let none other alien spell soe'er
But only the one Hope's one name be there,—
Not less nor more, but even that word alone.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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It’s already in vain
I know that thunder at times fall from the sky,
I know that ants crawl when their nest breaks,
swarming ready to bite
but it’s already in vain.
I do not care when the sun shine
and it rains in broad daylight
if I get wet or not, if you get wet or not
but it’s already in vain.
I smell the fresh tea that you are brewing
see how the wind is blowing the curtains
as if it’s crying over a lost soul
but it’s already in vain.
Will you come along when I dance in the rain?
I know that there’s something indispensable
to dance when the sun shines and thunder is falling
but it’s already in vain.
When Gert Strydom is caught in rain at church,
some old men are thinking about the sacrifice of God,
there’s a impact when a pretty women is wet
but it’s already in vain.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Power Of Love
Aye aye aye aye
Feels like fire
I'm so in love with you
Dreams are like angels
They keep bad at bay, bad at bay
Love is the light scaring darkness away
I'm so in love with you
Purge the soul
Make love your goal
The power of love
A force from above
Cleaning my soul
Flame on burn desire, love
With tounges of fire
Purge the soul
Make love your goal
I'll protect you from the hooded claw
Keep the vampires from your door
When the chips are down
I'll be around with my undying
Death defying love for you
Envy will hurt itself
Let yourself be beautiful
Sparkling love flowers and pearls and pretty girls
Love is like an energy
Rushing in, rushing inside of me
Yeah
The power of love
A force from above
Cleaning my soul
Flame on burn desire, love
With tounges of fire
Purge the soul
Make love your goal
This time we go sublime
Lovers entwined divine divine
Love is danger, love is pleasure
Love is pure, the only treasure
I'm so in love with you
Purge the soul
Make love your goal
The power of love
A force from above
Cleaning my soul
The power of love
A force from above
A sky scraping dove
Flame on burn desire, love
With tounges of fire
Purge the soul
Make love your goal
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry has done this to me
And I love the slavery of poetry
For reasons like your better
versification
Or for reasons you shall not
live to see
To me poetry is this huge magnificent
instrument
And poetry has kept me indoors all
day I missed you
And poetry has kept me in front of
this machine
And saved me maybe from the bullet
or the knife
And poetry has taken me to explore
the deepest
Unknown regions of my mind
Never was the search
Of the word so desperate and
pleasurable and so
Hurtful and so exciting and so painful
And poetry has alarmed me to how
cruel my mind is
And poetry has journeyed into my
inner self too to cleanse my soul
And poetry has gone out of her way
to show me
How kind and filled with honey my mind is
I have journeyed to far flung places
guided by
The love of poetry I know myself better now
poem by Ngaka Motaung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
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From one Soul of the Universe are all Souls derived... Of these Souls there are many changes, some into a more fortunate estate, and some quite contrary... Not all human souls but only the pious ones are divine. Once separated from the body, and after the struggle to acquire piety, which consists in knowing God and injuring none, such a soul becomes all intelligence. The impious soul, however, punishes itself by seeking a human body to enter into, for no other body can receive a human soul it cannot enter the body of an animal devoid of reason. Divine law preserves the human soul from such infamy... The soul passeth from form to form and the mansions of her pilgrimage are manifold. Thou puttest off thy bodies as raiment and as vesture dost thou fold them up. Thou art from old, O Soul of Man yea, thou art from everlasting.
quote by Hermes Trismegistus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My other Talent –Poesy
God is to me very kind;
To His tenets, I always bind;
My Poetry is but His gift!
My soul from Him can’t shift
Yet, peace of mind gets disturbed oft,
In search of worldly pleasures loft;
In vain, I seek them, time is lost;
And soul remains sin-cast.
My foes and woes trouble me much;
Sometimes, I feel I am a wretch!
And when I search my mind again,
God helps me solace regain.
My Poesy has made me fit;
My body, mind, soul bit by bit;
I talk with God who guides me right;
He tells me what’s wrong, correct.
With time, my soul regains due course;
My Poetry, my sin absolves;
Immersed in it, I find great peace,
Of mind and I am at ease.
Thoughts divine in me prevail;
My ship of Poesy sets sail;
It is an unchartered voyage;
That’s safe with God’s message.
God is my beacon and compass!
Invisible Captain of my ship;
I am the driver, novice,
‘Tis my maiden voyage.
My heart is full of confidence;
Impermanent’s my residence;
The weather lovely, calm for now;
My ship is on the move somehow!
poem by John Celes
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Psalm 62
My soul waits silently for God
He alone is my defence
In a cruel and wicked world
He alone makes sense
Trust in Him all ye people
Find your strength in Him alone
All else is lies and vain imagination
It's Calvary's work that does atone
This life is but a vapor
And riches cannot save your soul
Lift up your eyes and see the power
Christ alone must be your goal
poem by Frank McEleny
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Soul on Fire
Soul on Fire
I know what I'm doing
this is my passion
What's worth doing
Soul of Fire
My heart just skipped a beat
I can feel the feeling
from my head
down to my feet
Soul of Fire
yearning to succeed
what I've always wanted
what I really need
Soul on Fire
look inside my burning soul
to be a poet
is my goal
poem by Summer Song
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A Haven for the Soul
A poem is something
We truly believe in.
It may be...
A struggle for the mind
For the heart a comfort
Tender, kind.
A haven for the soul
Embracing you, me, and all.
A token divine
Deeply cherished inside
Treasuring life with pride.
A path left open...
For others to pursue
And fathom the same journeys
All through.
November,2012
poem by Maria C. Costa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry is Everywhere
To all my friends who say –
Poetry is not my cup of tea,
I’d strongly recommend that
they watch “Dead Poet’s Society”.
Poetry is in your cup of tea,
poetry is in every wave of the sea,
poetry is in the song of a bird
poetry springs forth from each of your word.
Poetry is in the smile of a baby,
poetry is in the redness of a ruby,
poetry is the union of your heart and mind
poetry teaches you to be soft and kind.
Poetry is the song of your soul,
poetry reminds you of your life’s goal,
poetry is in a game of cricket,
poetry is in the sound of a cricket.
Imagine life without poetry -
What an empty life it would be!
Imagine a world without poetry -
What a dull place it would be!
09 June 2010
! 2: 50 pm
poem by Gita Ashok
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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