Love

Answer to a Child’s Question

Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,
The linnet and thrush say, "I love and I love!"
In the winter they’re silent-the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don’t know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing and loving-all come back together.
But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he-
“I love my love, and my love loves me!”
_______
S. T. Coleridge.
Read some bios about him at
http://quotes-and-insights.blogspot.com/2006/06/advice.html

Love

Oh, I have forgotten to mention that some poems are published in Arabic here at http://sudanese-art.blogspot.com but I am going to check archives for those I wrote in English long time ago. In fact I have lost lot of them in the long escape. The escape itself has been a motive to write such poetry.

I hate dictatorship.

Love

Amours des feintes

Amours des feintes
des faux-semblants
Infante défunte
se pavanant
cartes en quintes
s'édifiant
le palais d´un pince
catalan
Amours des feintes
Seul un candélabre scintille au vent
où l´on emprunte
des sentiments
le labyrinthe obsédant
Et comme si de rein n´était
on joue à l´émotion
Entre un automne et un été
mensonge par omission
Etrange crainte
en écoutant
les douces plaintes du vent
Amours des feintes
au présent et l´on s´éreinte
hors du temps
et pourtant maintes
fois l´on tend
a se maintenir longtemps

Jane Birkin

Love again!

The next poetry is mine. It's a long, long time since I wrote verse in English. That time I was the most "attractive Bard" in town. Ahm;-) Girls were just flowing from every corner to catch up with the Bird;-) Enjoy the humor, cause there's no verse for this post.

It's just love again brain,
that's going to rain,
next time before the coming train...

hey what's this?!

Love!

This is a whisper,
Deep in the soul,
I hear it jumping,
And twisting like a ball,
To make me remember
The beautiful world lies
Between her tongue and
Breathless ties!

No, this is not Salvador Dali "rhyming"!
It's "me" shaping this rhyme surrealistic.

Surrealism in Words!

Love

The Arrow!

I thought of your beauty, and this arrow,
Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow,
There's no man may look upon her, no man,
As when newly grown to be a woman,
Tall and noble but with face and bosom
Delicate in colour as apple blossom.
This beauty's kinder, yet for a reason
I could weep that the old is out of season.
_______
W.B. Yeats - From "In the Seven Woods"

Love

Never Give All the Heart

Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kiss;
For everything that's lovely is
But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
O never give the heart outright
For they, for all smooth lips can say,
Have given their hearts up to the play.
And who could play it well enough
If deaf and dumb and blind with love?
He that made this knows all the cost,
For he gave all his heart and lost.

W.B. Yeats
________________________

Love

O Do Not Love Too Long

Sweetheart, do not love too long:
I loved long and long,
And grew to be out of fashion
Like an old song.

All through the years of our youth
Neither could have known
Their own thought from the other's,
We were so much at one.

But O, in a minute she changed --
O do not love too long
Or you will grow out of fashion
Like an old song.
_______
W.B. Yeats

Love

What lively lad most pleasured me
Of all that with me lay?
I answer that I gave my soul
And loved in misery,
But had great pleasure with a lad
That I loved bodily.

From Yeats' Last Confession".

Love

When the BEE GEES Shoot Back!

Nights On Broadway

Here we are in the room full of strangers,
Standing in the dark where your eyes couldn't see me

Well, I have to follow you
Though you didn't want me to.
But that won't stop my lovin' you
I can't stay away

Blaming it all on the nights on Broadway
Singin' them love songs,
Singin' them straight to the heart songs.
Blamin' it all on the nights on Broadway
Singin' them sweet sounds
To that crazy, crazy town.

Love

The Mermaid

A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.

Love

From "A Man Young and Old"!

First Love

Though nurtured like the sailing moon
In beauty's murderous brood,
She walked awhile and blushed awhile
And on my pathway stood
Until I thought her body bore
A heart of flesh and blood.

But since I laid a hand thereon
And found a heart of stone
I have attempted many things
And not a thing is done,
For every hand is lunatic
That travels on the moon.

She smiled and that transfigured me
And left me but a lout,
Maundering here, and maundering there,
Emptier of thought
Than the heavenly circuit of its stars
When the moon sails out.

W.B. Yeats' Selected Poetry

Love

Love's Sanctuary!

This yearning heart (Love! witness what I say)
Enshrines thy form as purely as it may,
Round which, as to some spirit uttering bliss,
My thoughts all stand ministrant night and day
Like saintly Priests, that dare not think amiss.

Coleridge

Love the Squadron of Poets 7

To Asra

Are there two things, of all which men possess,
That are so like each other and so near,
As mutual Love seems like to Happiness?
Dear Asra, woman beyond utterance dear!
This Love which ever welling at my heart,
Now in its living fount doth heave and fall,
Now overflowing pours thro' every part
Of all my frame, and fills and changes all,
Like vernal waters springing up through snow,
This Love that seeming great beyond the power
Of growth, yet seemeth ever more to grow,
Could I transmute the whole to one rich Dower
Of Happy Life, and give it all to thee,
Thy lot, methinks, were Heaven, thy age, Eternity!

S.T.Coleridge
__________

Poets from the Horn of Africa, well -- or the entire Africa are welcome to join the Squadron of Poets linked to from the title above. Thanks.

Love the Squadron of Poets 6

Come slowly, Eden
Lips unused to thee.
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,
Reach late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars-alights,
And is lost in balms

Emily Dickinson
An American Poetess
1830-1886

Love

I calmed her fears, and she was calm,
And told her love with virgin pride;
And so I won my Genevieve,
My bright and beauteous Bride.

This is a verse from the selected poems of S.T. Coleridge

Love the Squadron of Poets 5

'Twas partly love, and partly fear,
And partly 'twas a bashful art,
That I might rather feel, than see,
The swelling of her heart.

Love the Squadron of Poets 4

She half inclosed me with her arms,
She pressed me with a meek embrace;
And bending back her head, looked up,
And gazed upon my face.

Love the Squadron of Poets 3

Her bosom heaved- she stepped aside,
As conscious of my look she stept-
Then suddenly, with timorous eye
She fled to me and wept.

Love

She wept with pity and delight,
She blushed with love, and virgin shame;
And like the murmur of a dream,
I heard her breathe my name.