@yetanotherwinter
้ๅคๆ[ๅ]ย ๆ็ฝๅบๅๆๆๅ ๏ผ็ๆฏๅฐไธ้ใไธพๅคดๆๆๆ๏ผไฝๅคดๆๆ ไนกใChuรกng qiรกn mรญngyuรจguฤng, yรญ shรฌ dรฌshร ng shuฤng.Jว tรณu wร ng mรญng yuรจ, dฤซtรณu sฤซ gรนxiฤng.Moonlight before my bedPerhaps frost on the ground.Lift my head and see the moonLower my head and I miss my home.- Li BaiI know I need to practice reading more Chinese poetry, so here it is. more to come.
What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, And Where, And Why by Edna St. Vincent MillayWhat lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,I have forgotten, and what arms have lainUnder my head till morning; but the rainIs full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sighUpon the glass and listen for reply,And in my heart there stirs a quiet painFor unremembered lads that not againWill turn to me at midnight with a cry.Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:I cannot say what loves have come and gone,I only know that summer sang in meA little while, that in me sings no more.
EggIโm scrambling an egg for my daughter.โWhy are you always whistling?โ she asks.โBecause Iโm happy.โAnd itโs true,Though it stuns me to say it aloud;There was a time when I wouldnโtHave seen it as my future.Itโs partly a matterOf who is there to eat the egg:The self fallen out of love with itselfThrough the tedium of familiarity,Or this little self,So curious, so hungry,Who emerged from the woman I love,A woman who loves me in a wayIโve come to think I deserve,Now that it arrives from outside me.Everything changes, weโre told,And now the changes are everywhere:The house with its morning lightThat fills me like a revelation,The yard with its treesThat cast a bit more shade each summer,The love of a womanThat both is and isnโt confounding,And the loveOf this clamor of questions at my waist.Clamor of questions,You clamor of answers,Hereโs your egg.- C.G. Hanzlicek
ไปๅคฉๆ็ๅฟซ้ๅฐไบใ้ฝๆฏ่พฃๆค้ ฑ๏ผๆๆๅ่ชๅทฑๅ็ใๆๆๅๆฌขๅ่พฃ็ไธ่ฅฟ๏ผไฝๆฏ่ฟไธช้ๅธธ้ๅธธ่พฃ!!! ่พฃๆญปไบMy package arrived today. It's all hot sauce that my friend made himself. Spicy food is my favorite, but this is really, really spicy!Feel free to look at his products if you like hot sauces or British food. It's pretty good.
Because She Would Ask Me Why I Love HerIf questioning would make us wiseNo eyes would ever gaze in eyes;If all our tales were told in speechNo mouths would wander each to each.Were spirits free from mortal meshAnd love not bound in hearts of fleshNo aching breasts would yearn to meetAnd find their ecstasy complete.For who is there that lives and knowsThe secret powers by which he grows?Were knowledge all, what were our needTo thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"I love you now until I die.For I must love because I liveAnd life in me is what you give- Christopher Brennan
A Late WalkWhen I go up through the mowing field,The headless aftermath,Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,Half closes the garden path.And when I come to the garden ground,The whir of sober birdsUp from the tangle of withered weedsIs sadder than any wordsA tree beside the wall stands bare,But a leaf that lingered brown,Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,Comes softly rattling down.I end not far from my going forthBy picking the faded blueOf the last remaining aster flowerTo carry again to you.by Robert Frost
My CatsI know. I know.they are limited, have differentneeds andconcerns.but I watch and learn from them.I like the little they know,which is somuch.they complain but neverworry,they walk with a surprising dignity.they sleep with a direct simplicity thathumans just can'tunderstand.their eyes are morebeautiful than our eyes.and they can sleep 20 hoursa daywithouthesitation orremorse.when I am feelinglowall I have to do iswatch my catsand mycouragereturns.I study thesecreatures.they are myteachers.Charles Bukowski
I sit beside the fire and thinkof all that I have seenof meadow-flowers and butterfliesin summers that have been;ย Of yellow leaves and gossamerin autumns that there were,with morning mist and silver sunand wind upon my hair.ย I sit beside the fire and thinkof how the world will bewhen winter comes without a springthat I shall ever see.ย For still there are so many thingsthat I have never seen:in every wood in every springthere is a different green.ย I sit beside the fire and thinkof people long agoand people who will see a worldthat I shall never know.ย But all the while I sit and thinkof times there were before,I listen for returning feetand voices at the door.- J.R.R Tolkien
SilenceThere is the sudden silence of the crowdabove a player not moving on the field,and the silence of the orchid.The silence of the falling vasebefore it strikes the ๏ฌoor,the silence of the belt when it is not striking the child.The stillness of the cup and the water in it,the silence of the moonand the quiet of the day far from the roar of the sun.The silence when I hold you to my chest,the silence of the window above us,and the silence when you rise and turn away.And there is the silence of this morningwhich I have broken with my pen,a silence that had piled up all nightlike snow falling in the darkness of the houseโthe silence before I wrote a wordand the poorer silence now.- Billy Collins
I CrySometimes when I'm aloneI cry,Cause I am on my own.The tears I cry are bitter and warm.They flow with life but take no formI cry because my heart is torn.I find it difficult to carry on.If I had an ear to confide in,I would cry among my treasured friend,but who do you know that stops that long,to help another carry on.The world moves fast and it would rather pass by.Then to stop and see what makes one cry,so painful and sad.And sometimesโฆI cryand no one cares about why.- Tupac Shakur
As I Began To Love Myself(This poem is so long, but..... I promised someone I would read it.)As I began to love myself I found that anguish and emotional sufferingย are only warning signs that I was living against my own truth.ย Today, I know, this is AUTHENTICITY.As I began to love myself I understood how much it can offend somebody.ย As I try to force my desires on this person, even though I knew the timeย was not right and the person was not ready for it, and even though thisย person was me.Today I call it RESPECT.As I began to love myself I stopped craving for a different life,and I could see that everything that surrounded me was inviting me to grow.Today I call it MATURITY.As I began to love myself I understood that at any circumstance, I am in the right place at the right time, and everything happens at the exactly right moment. So I could be calm.Today I call it SELF-CONFIDENCE.
The Rose That Grew From ConcreteDid you hear about the rose that grewfrom a crack in the concrete?Proving nature's law is wrong itlearned to walk with out having feet.Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,it learned to breathe fresh air.Long live the rose that grew from concretewhen no one else ever cared.-Tupac Shakur
The MomentThe moment when, after many yearsof hard work and a long voyageyou stand in the centre of your room,house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,knowing at last how you got there,and say, I own this,is the same moment when the trees unloosetheir soft arms from around you,the birds take back their language,the cliffs fissure and collapse,the air moves back from you like a waveand you can't breathe.No, they whisper. You own nothing.You were a visitor, time after timeclimbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.We never belonged to you.You never found us.It was always the other way round.by Margaret Atwood
Happy Valentines DayI Do Not Love You Except Because I Loveย YouI do not love you except because I love you;I go from loving to not loving you,From waiting to not waiting for youMy heart moves from cold to fire.I love you only because it's you the one I love;I hate you deeply, and hating youBend to you, and the measure of my changing love for youIs that I do not see you but love you blindly.Maybe January light will consumeMy heart with its cruelRay, stealing my key to true calm.In this part of the story I am the one whoDies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.by Pablo NerudaHere's a love poem for Valentine's Day ๐
้ๅคๆๅบๅๆๆๅ ็ๆฏๅฐไธ้ไธพๅคดๆๆๆไฝๅคดๆๆ ไนก- ๆ็ฝQuiet Night ThoughtMoonlight before my bedPerhaps frost on the ground.Lift my head and see the moonLower my head and I miss my home.- Li BaiSome people have requested I read a Chinese poem. So, enjoy! Li Bai is my favourite Chinese poet.
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