CLASSIC POETRY

Franciscae meae laudes

                            Franciscae meae laudes Novis te cantabo chordis, O novelletum quod ludis In solitudine cordis. Esto sertis implicata, Ô femina delicata Per quam solvuntur peccata! Sicut beneficum Lethe, Hauriam oscula de te, Quae imbuta es magnete. Quum vitiorum tempegtas Turbabat omnes semitas, Apparuisti, Deitas, Velut stella salutaris In naufragiis amaris….. Suspendam cor tuis aris! Piscina plena virtutis, Fons æternæ juventutis Labris vocem redde mutis! Quod erat spurcum, cremasti; Quod rudius, exaequasti; Quod...Read More »

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Emanuel Swedenborg

                  Emanuel Swedenborg Taller than the others, this man Walked among them, at a distance, Now and then calling the angels By their secret names. He would see That which earthly eyes do not see: The fierce geometry, the crystal Labyrinth of God and the sordid Milling of infernal delights. He knew...Read More »

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I got so I could take his name

                  I got so I could take his name I got so I could take his name –Without – Tremendous gain –That Stop-sensation – on my Soul –And Thunder – in the Room – I got so I could walk acrossThat Angle in the floor,Where he turned so, and I turned – how...Read More »

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who were so dark at heart

                      who were so dark at heart who were so dark of heart they might not speak,  a little innocence will make them sing;  teach them to see who could not learn to look  –from the reality of all nothing  will actually lift a luminous whole;  turn sheer despairing to most perfect...Read More »

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I Am the Only Being Whose Doom

                  I Am the Only Being Whose Doom  I am the only being whose doomNo tongue would ask, no eye would mourn;I never caused a thought of gloom,A smile of joy, since I was born. In secret pleasure, secret tears,This changeful life has slipped away,As friendless after eighteen years,As lone as on my...Read More »

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An Echo

                  An Echo Never sleeping, still awake,Pleasing most when most I speak;The delight of old and young,Though I speak without a tongue.Nought but one thing can confound me,Many voices joining round me;Then I fret, and rave, and gabble,Like the labourers of Babel.Now I am a dog, or cow,I can bark, or I...Read More »

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The Haidamaks

                  The Haidamaks Everything moves, everything passes, and there is no end. Where did it all disappear? From where did it all come? Both the fool and the wise man know nothing. One lives, one dies, one thing blooms, But another has withered, withered away forever And winds have carried off yellowed leaves, And the sun will rise,...Read More »

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Everyone has someone, a friend to love

                  Everyone has someone, a friend to love       Rumi ...Read More »

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رنجور

                    رنجور گفته شد که هر صناعت‌گر که رست در صناعت جایگاه نیست جست جست بنا موضعی ناساخته گشته ویران سقفها انداخته جست سقا کوزای کش آب نیست وان دروگر خانه‌ای کش باب نیست       Rumi ...Read More »

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His Books

                  His Books My days among the Dead are past;   Around me I behold,Where’er these casual eyes are cast,   The mighty minds of old:My never-failing friends are they,With whom I converse day by day. With them I take delight in weal   And seek relief in woe;And while I understand and feel   How much...Read More »

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