Hi there, poetry lovers, I thought I'd share with you one of my very favorite Love Poems, it says a lot about my personal feelings about love and about my loved one. Here it is.
Bring on the Nubiles
I want to love you like your dad And be your superman I'll show you things you've never had And hold your little hand
Bring on the Nubiles Bring on the Nubiles
I'll kiss your zone erogenous There's plenty to explore I've got to lick your little puss And nail it to the floor
Bring on the Nubiles Bring on the Nubiles
I go crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya
Lemme lemme fuck ya fuck ya Lemme lemme fuck ya fuck ya Lemme lemme lick your lucky smiles
Bring on the Nubiles Bring on the Nubiles
I go crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya
Lemme lemme fuck ya fuck ya Lemme lemme fuck ya fuck ya Lemme lemme lick your lucky smiles
Bring on the Nubiles Bring on the Nubiles
There's lotsa games that we can play You can turn my tap I'll drip And when the fever reaches you I'm high beneath my zip
Bring on the Nubiles Bring on the Nubiles
I go crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya, crazy 4 ya
Not excactly a 'love poem' but I guess it should come here as well...
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long i stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equals lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference
Я вас любил: любовь еще, быть может
В душе моей угасла не совсем;
Но пусть она вас больше не тревожит;
Я не хочу печалить вас ничем.
Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,
То робостью, то ревностью томим;
Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно,
Как дай вам бог любимой быть другим.
I loved you once: perhaps that love has yet
To die down thoroughly within my soul;
But let it not dismay you any longer;
I have no wish to cause you any sorrow.
I loved you wordlessly, without a hope,
By shyness tortured, or by jealousy.
I loved you with such tenderness and candor
And pray God grants you to be loved that way again.
Itt van meg harom verzio, bar egyik sem olyan jo, mint a tied. Nekem az elsõ tetszik legjobban.
A harombol lehetne esetleg osszerakni egy teljesen okést:)
I loved you, and I probably still do, And for a while the feeling may remain... But let my love no longer trouble you, I do not wish to cause you any pain. I loved you; and the hopelessness I knew, The jealousy, the shyness - though in vain - Made up a love so tender and so true As may God grant you to be loved again.
I loved you; and perhaps I love you still, The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet It burns so quietly within my soul, No longer should you feel distressed by it. Silently and hopelessly I loved you, At times too jealous and at times too shy. God grant you find another who will love you As tenderly and truthfully as I.
I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul The former love has never gone away, But let it not recall to you my dole; I wish not sadden you in any way.
I loved you silently, without hope, fully, In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain; I loved you so tenderly and truly, As let you else be loved by any man
I loved you-
even now I may confess
Some embers of my love their fire retain
But do not let it cause you more distress-
I do not want to sadden you again.
Hopeless and tongue-tied, yet, I loved you dearly
With pangs the jealous and the timid know
So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,
I pray God grant another love you so.
No matter of who, what, where or why I always know that you'll be by my side. Now that time with you is short And not always having your complete support. But when you do look into my eyes, I know that I'm trying to keep a disguise From what you can't, and will not see, The hurt, the loneliness, the misery But now I just have to try not to cry, And stay strong and let this go by. I'll get used to not usually seeing you, And spending every night together too. Things will be fine, in just a short time, Because I know that you'll always be mine
A sok off utan - nos, ez eleg bena, de hozzatartozik az elozo kettohoz. Soooo, why the hell not...
Wondering
Faraway mountains
Draw me away
Into the mystic eyes
Of deadly hurricanes
Stranger desires
Temper my soul
While my heart calls
Your sweet name.
And I must go
On the wheels of change
To uncertain depths
Into the night
While whispering winds
Remind me always
To the softness
Of your loving arms.
Nem, nem volt belém szerelmes , thank God, én voltam hopeless.. amikor Virginia Woolfot olvastam, arra a következtetésre jutottam, talán mégsem tudok angolul.-))).. de aztán nekiugrottam magyarul is:-)
Miért van ilyen fura nicked? Ha angolozni van kedved, gyere át a chat in Englishre!
Persze, hogy nem, csak errol jutott eszembe. Az irodalom nem azert van, hogy az ember tudalekos legyen tole, hanem, hogy olvasson. Mint az zene, festeszet, szoval altalaban a muveszetek. Max. annyira ertsen hozza, hogy kiszurje a giccset, de ez szvsz alkati ill. intelligencia kerdes. Asszem...
Engem pl. cseppet sem zavar, ha valaki homokos, mikor olyan szepen ir, mint Houseman. Foleg, ha olyan baratai voltak, mint pl. Oscar Wilde...
Here Dead We Lie
Here dead we lie
Because we did not choose
To live and shame the land
From which we sprung.
Life, to be sure,
Is nothing much to lose,
But young men think it is,
And we were young.
A. E. Houseman
Heaven
The sandy shores of Kuwait
Slowly drift away
As dream comes gently,
Sweeps me off my feet –
Giving way to the ever sweet dear
Memory of yours.
Heaven is my home
Where room with you
I share.
A shiny little spider quickly moves
his busy body in front of mine;
as distinctive slow time crawls
you’re not being ‘round in the moment
of needing your soft embrace -
Yet draws a faded smile upon the face
of an old man needing your pale,
fragile fingers running through
the darkening mood carved wrinkles
of the thinning space on my forehead;
between lost loves and yesterdays
kisses, dark smiles and minutes
of everlasting peace -
I await your coming home.
When I die I want your hands on my eyes:
I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands
to pass their freshness over me once more:
to feel the smoothness that changed my destiny.
I want you to live while I, asleep, await you,
I want you to go on hearing the wind,
to smell the aroma of the sea we loved together
to go on walking the land that we walked.
I want what I love to go on living
and I loved you and sang of you above all,
so go on flowering, flower,
so that you reach all my love shows you
so that my shadow passes through your hair,
so that they know the reason for my song.
I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.
And now you are mine. Rest with your sleep in my dream.
Love, pain, work-- they should sleep now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels
and by my side you are pure as latent amber.
No one else, love, will sleep in my dreams.
You will go, we will go together, through the waters of time.
No one else will travel through shadow with me,
only you-- immortelle, polestar, eternal moon.
And now your hands open their delicate fists
and let smooth signs slip aimlessly away,
your eyes shut like two grey wings,
while I follow the water that carries you and carries me off:
the night, the world, the wind, unravel its destiny.
and I am nothing without you but your dream.
And now you are mine. Rest with your sleep in my dream.
Love, pain, work-- they should sleep now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels
and by my side you are pure as latent amber.
No one else, love, will sleep in my dreams.
You will go, we will go together, through the waters of time.
No one else will travel through shadow with me,
only you-- immortelle, polestar, eternal moon.
And now your hands open their delicate fists
and let smooth signs slip aimlessly away,
your eyes shut like two grey wings,
while I follow the water that carries you and carries me off:
the night, the world, the wind, unravel its destiny.
and I am nothing without you but your dream.
hátha valaki tud segíteni: olvastam az egyik angol tankönyvben egy nagyon kedves verset ami a hagymához hasonlítja a szerelmet. Nagyon tetszett, de még nem sikerült azóta se hozzá jutnom. Azt hiszem a címe Valentine, de nem bizti. A tankönyv címe valami R betűs volt, talán Reward.
I dreamed of him last night, I saw his face
All radiant and unshadowed of distress,
And as of old, in music measureless,
I heard his golden voice and marked him trace
Under the common thing the hidden grace,
And conjure wonder out of emptiness
Till mean things put on beauty like a dress
And all the world was an enchanted place.
And then methought outside a fast locked gate
I mourned the loss of unrecorded words,
Forgotten tales and mysteries half said,
Wonders that might have been articulate,
And voiceless thoughts like murdered singing birds.
And so I woke and knew he was dead.
-Lord Alfred Douglas
(written about Oscar Wilde the year after his death)
