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Old Poetry, by popularity
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i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
The animal I really dig, Above all others is the pig.
Well, son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
Last night, when I was listenin’
Alone, to wind and rain,
Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players;
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
Softly and humbly to the Gulf of Arabs The convoys of dead sailors come;
Chalti Chakki Dekh Kar, Diya Kabira Roye Dui Paatan Ke Beech Mein,Sabit Bacha Na
by Kabir
53 lines, 24 comments
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream! —
If I could write words
Like leaves on an autumn forest floor,
There's a polar bear In our Frigidaire--
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
And then the day came,
when the risk
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Landlord, landlord,
My roof has sprung a leak.
Bah, bah, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
Sinhasan hil uthey raajvanshon ney bhrukuti tani thi,
budhey Bharat mein aayee phir se nayi jawani thi,
Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
The love of field and coppice Of green and shaded lanes,
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
When I love
I feel that I am the king of time
I guess you think you know this story. You don't. The real one's much more gory.
There must be a wound!
No one can be this hurt
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
Fifteen men on the Dead Man's Chest— Drink and the devil had done for the rest—
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