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Poesie : in lingua inglese poesie > in lingua inglese

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Love

Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love."
And he raised his head and looked upon the people,
and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great
voice he said:
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may
wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north
wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your
tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in
their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you
may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may
know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge
become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace
and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness
and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but
not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your
tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from
itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my
heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, if it
finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these
be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its
melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks
for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your

Kahlil Gibran

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Spleen

Sunday: this satisfied procession
Of definite Sunday faces;
Bonnets, silk hats, and conscious graces
In repetition that displaces
Your mental self-possession
By this unwarranted digression.

Evening, lights, and tea!
Children and cats in the alley;
Dejection unable to rally
Against this dull conspiracy.

And Life, a little bald and gray,
Languid, fastidious, and bland,
Waits, hat and gloves in hand,
Punctilious of tie and suit
(Somewhat impatient of delay)
On the doorstep of the Absolute.

Thomas Stern Eliot

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Knowlt Hoheimer

I was the first fruits of the battle of Missionary Ridge.
When I felt the bullet enter my heart
I wished I had staid at home and gone to jail
For stealing the hogs of Curl Trenary,
Instead of running away and joining the army.
Rather a thousand times the county jail
Than to lie under this marble figure with wings,
And this granite pedestal
Bearing the words, “Pro Patria”.
What do they mean, anyway?

Edgar Lee Masters

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I have had my invitation to this world's festival

I have had my invitation to this world's festival, and thus my life
has been blessed. My eyes have seen and my ears have heard.

It was my part at this feast to play upon my instrument, and I have
done all I could.

Now, I ask, has the time come at last when I may go in and see thy
face and offer thee my silent salutation?

Rabindranath Tagore

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Griffy the cooper

The cooper should know about tubs.
But I learned about life as well,
And you who loiter around these graves
Think you know life.
You think your eye sweeps about a wide horizon, perhaps,
In truth you are only looking around the interior of your tub.
You cannot lift yourself to its rim
And see the outer world of things,
And at the same time sec yourself.
You are submerged in the tub of yourself —
Taboos and rules and appearances,
Are the staves of your tub.
Break them and dispel the witchcraft
Of thinking your tub is life!
And that you know life!

Edgar Lee Masters

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