Pubblicato il 11 Gennaio 2012 da Veronica Baker
We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute.
We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.
And the human race is filled with passion.
And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life.
But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.
To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?”
That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.
That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse.
What will your verse be?
( Dead Poets Society , 1989 )
I look into the mirror
See myself, I’m over me
I need space for my desires
Have to dive into my fantasies
I know as soon as I’ll arrive
Everything is possible
Cause no one has to hide
Beyond the invisible
Sajaja bramani totari ta, raitata raitata, radu ridu raitata, rota
The brave and wise men came together on horse
Close your eyes
Just feel and realize
It is real and not a dream
I’m in you and you’re in me
It is time
To break the chains of life
If you follow you will see
What’s beyond reality
Ne irascaris Domine,
ne ultra memineris iniquitatis:
ecce civitas Sancti facta est deserta:
Sion deserta facta est:
Ierusalem desolata est:
domus sanctificationis tuae et gloriae tuae
Do not be angry Lord,
or remember iniquity forever:
behold the Holy City is a desert:
Sion is mad a desert:
Jerusalem is desolate:
the house of your holiness and glory.