my luve''s like a red

my luve''s like a red
my luve''s like a red red rose
that''s newly sprung in june
my luve''s like the melodie
that sweetly play''d in tune.
as fair art thou, my bonie lass
so deep in luve am I
and I will luve thee still, my
Dear
till a'' the seas gang dry
till a'' the seas gang dry, my
Dear,
And the rocks melt wi'' the sun
I will luve thee still, my Dear,
while the sands o'' life shall run.
And fair the whwwl a While
And I will come again, my Luve,
tho'' it were ten thousand mile...
  

Jun, 17 2010     481 chars (4 sms)     2685 views       English Poetry

more English Poetry SMS Messages

Your feeling is depressed... You always seem to be depressed and cry easily. You
are a bit (ok, more than a bit) over
emotional and are too sensitive. You rarely
smile, and when you do, it''s very weak...
your eyes always seem to be misty and though
others have tried to console you of your
sorrow in the past, no one can seem to get
through to you that there''s more to life than
being sad. No no one seems to hang around you
anymore which makes you feel worse, and you
feel as you''re loved by no one except maybe
your family. People might see you as the
"girl who doesn''t talk to anyone",
Laugh so hard that even
sorrow smiles at u!
Live life so well that even
death loves to see u live!
Fight so hard that even
fate accepts its defeat.
Why

Oh God, one cannot argue with you, but,
why did you throw us in the fire of love?

You formed us with your power, and water and clay.
Why did you create the moon-like beauties?

You made eyebrows into pens, and locks of hair into lassos.
You made sugar-water limpid from sweet lips.

If you wanted me not to become afflicted and degraded,
why did you create lovesick girls?

If you wanted submission and prayers,
you would not have given beauties coquetry and coyness.

If false love is a sin,
why did you make drunkard eyes drunk?
Because of you I chose exile,
I’ve been estranged from my tribe for some time.

I watered my flower with my tears,
Injustice! Don’t take me away from my flower.

There’s nothing wrong if a king wants a pauper,
If a pauper desires a king, he can’t help it.

My desire is too high; my luck is too low,
There is no cure for this pain but death.

What’s with the melancholic ascetic?
He argues with me about faith and religion.

The religion of the lover is the beloved.
I’m taking no path but my own.
If only the world could see what I feel
then, would the world, know who I am
I''ve loved, lost and feared the world
for it is sometimes too much to bare

Control, power, is what I fear
for I am weak inside and full of pain
I shout and cry, but knowing
there is nobody there to hear me
I swallow the shame and anger
that lies beneath me

I am lost to reality and living in time
Though I am struggling through life
and all that it offers, I am only human
and that is what makes me . . . Me.

Still, I wish for the happiness and pleasure
that I have earned, but realize that, I have
not yet overcome the world''s greatest challenge

Love! and how to accept it -
I am ready to face my fears
As I turn out the lightAs I turn out the light
And look up the moon
I put my hands together
And pray that your okay

I gaze across the sky
And court the many stars
As I wonder what you are doing
Wonder where you are

No matter where I go
I always see your face
I hear the sound of your voice
In every single place

Although you’re far away
In my heart you’ll always be
In my prayers you’ll always mentioned
In my dreams you’ll always seen….



As i Look the stars above me,
I wish you were somewhere
Pain ! Pain ! Pain


so positive is your poetry !


Meena

Doesn''t really matter
My heart wont shatter
What if I am alone

------Clap !
You showed me the sea..though your depiction
Her turbulent surface..chides my emotions
Her serene belly...recalls my intentions
The setting sun...reminds me of lost time
Fistful of sand...coerceing to let bygones be
Wave''s dance with winds...accentuates team-spirit
Sails at full mast.....suggests effeciency at peak
I didn’t decide to carry the load of sorrow,
sorrow existed, this house of sorrow also existed.

I didn’t lift the Jam-e Jam to drink wine,
wine existed, this house of wine also was there.

It is said: "He who created the house of love,
let the beloved burn and the lover burnt."

The cruelty of the red rose, and the cry of the nightingale—
the candle existed, and this moth also existed.

One’s pain is too much, another’s little,
one’s heart is afflicted, another’s smiles.
It''s a human sign
When things go wrong
When the scent of her lingers
And temptation''s strong

Into the boundary
Of each married man
Sweet deceit comes calling
And negativity lands

Cold cold heart
Hard done by you
Some things look better baby
Just passing through

And it''s no sacrifice
Just a simple word
It''s two hearts living
In two separate worlds
But it''s no sacrifice
No sacrifice
It''s no sacrifice at all
in your eyes, i dont see any love anymore
you are the one i need
and am not the one you are looking for
i begged you before i leave
keep me close, i am so naive
......you pushed me out
and you closed the door
Who Is Here? Who Is There?

In the Garden, when the autumn wind blows,
In the bird’s voice there is wailing and lamentation.

In the lovesick nightingale’s song there is a call,
with a different effect, a different mark.

Still, the nightingale is yearning for the love of the flower.
Still, the salamander is nesting in the oven.

Still, Mansur is hanging on the gallows.
He says: “I’m the Truth,” yet the secret (truth) is hidden.

Still, Zulaykha is not afraid of rebuke.
Still, Yusuf is evading Zulaykha.

Still, the Christian maiden is breaching Sheikh San’an''s faith.
Still, the Sheikh is tending her swine.