The future is yours

The future is yours
“ The future is yours…….It belongs to you
With faith in God and in yourself too
No hills too high, no mountains too tall
With faith in the lord ……you can conquer them all.“
  

Jun, 17 2010     176 chars (2 sms)     2702 views       English Poetry

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Deep Love Delight
Come across the moor with me,
in the bright moonlight,
with no fear or fright,
I''ll show you all my heart,
with my deep love and delight.

Its better for you to go with me,
It''ll give you a moment light,
to think about the times to come,
which''ll give our bond strength and sight,
with my deep love and delight.

Don''t procrastinate your any thought,
It''ll make you future out of the sight,
just do whatever you think is right,
But,I''m here to look for you,
with my deep love and delight.

I want you to be with me,
all the day and all the night,
to share my feelings which I''ve for you,
I''ll give you every moment of my life,
with my deep love and delight.
May you always have...
Enough happiness to keep you sweet,
Enough trials to keep you strong,
Enough sorrow to keep you human,
Enough hope to keep you happy,
Enough failure to keep you humble,
Enough success to keep you eager,
Enough friends to give you comfort,
Enough wealth to meet your needs,
Enough enthusiasm to look forward,
Enough determination to make
Each day better than yesterday!
"It's difficult to wait for some one,
&
It's difficult to forget some one,
But
The most difficult thing is to decide wether to wait or forget some one"
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.
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.
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...
The Sweetest words ever said
by a lover to his love:
I am jealous of the people you ever hugged,
because for a moment they held my world!
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.
LOVE & ROMANCE





LOVE is any of a number of emotions and experiences related to a sense of strong affection or profound oneness. Depending on context, love can have a wide variety of intended meanings. Romanticlove is seen as a deep, ineffable feeling of intense and tender attraction shared in passionate or intimate attraction and intimate interpersonal and sexual relationships. Love can also be conceived of as Platonic love, religious love, familial love, and, more casually, great affection for anything considered strongly pleasurable, desirable, or preferred, including activities and foods. This diverse range of meanings in the singular wordlove is often contrasted with the plurality of Greek words for love, reflecting the concept''s depth, versatility, and complexity.
How come I don''t know my own pain?
I''m the doctor and the remedy myself.

I wandered around the universe.
For the friend''s sake I have broken my heart.

Oh poor me! I didn''t know
I ''m the beloved and the lover myself.

Mazun, I made myself degraded.
I chose to be in love.

I gave my sole to the beloved.
Soul myself, devotee myself.
One has become Moses and has seen the Beloved on Mount Sinai.
One, like Jesus, has seen the Beloved while crucified.

One has seen in the dark, another in the light.
Each person has a different path to the Friend’s neighborhood.

One becomes like soil, and kisses the threshold.
Another becomes fervent then flutters.

One, like Mazun, makes his chest a shield,
seeking the arrow of love.
One lover is roaring.
He is eager to see a shining face.

Another is distressed,
keen to see her lustrous hair.

Another desires his lover’s breasts.
Describes them as ripe pomegranates,
Hails them improperly,
Praises apples of Isfahan.

One lover says: "My beloved is going away.
My liver''s blood became my wine.
From my cry the world became deaf.
Is this friend in the grinding mill?"

Mine is above all others'' loves.
He is dear, a husband to widows.

He knows everything,
whether the meaning or the expression.

The light of his candle doesn''t vanish.
He is the beloved, I''m the lover.

He is the ocean, Mazun the fish,
How wonderful, what an endless sea he is.