Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines...

Photo by creativity+
( see image information below)
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Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
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Write, for example : "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
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The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
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Tonight I can write the saddest lines
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
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On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
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She loved me sometimes , and I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
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Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
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To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul as dew to the pasture.
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What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
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That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
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As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
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The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
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I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her hearing.
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Another's. She will be another's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
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I no longer love her, that's certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short , forgetting is so long.
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Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
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Though this be the last pain she makes me suffer,
and these the last verses that I write for her.
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Pablo Neruda
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About the poet : Pablo Neruda ( July 12,1904 - September 23, 1973) was a Chilean writer and a communist leader. Neruda , who won Nobel Prize for literature in 1971, is considered one of the greatest and most influential poets of the 20th century.
This poem is one of my favorite poems of all times. It's absolutely moving and almost makes me cry everytime I read it. I read this comment on the poem - " Any single woman who can understand this poem and it's meaning; please marry me! ! " What a great poem..love, pain, joy and everything in between...." Which is what the poem is precisely about...love, pain, joy and everything in between .
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Resources:
[1] Read more about Pablo Neruda at Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pablo_Neruda
[3] Listen to this lovely recitations of this moving poem by Andy Garcia at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXHPk-ctoYY

Image Information : This image is from http://flickr.com/photos/bestrated1/210012508/

Thursday, September 20, 2007

A word is dead

words by Feuillu
( see image information below)
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A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say
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I say it just
Begins to live
That day
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Emily Dickinson
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Image Information: This Image is from http://flickr.com/photos/feuilllu/739173692/

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Chal Merey Saath hee chal..

( see image information below)
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chal mere saath hi chal ae meri jaan-e-ghazal
in samajon ke baneye huey bandhan se nikal, chal...
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hum vahan jayen jahan pyar pe pehere na lagey
dil ki daulat pe jahan koi lutere na lagey
kab hai badla ye zamana, tu zamane ko badal, chal…
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pyar sachcha ho to rahen bhi nikal aateen hain
bijliyan arsh se khud rasta dikhlati hai
tu bhi bijli ki tarah gam ke andheron se nikal, chal...
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apne milne pe jahan koi bhi ungli na utthey
apni chahat pe jahan koi bhi dushman na hanse
chhed de pyar se tu sazey, mohabbat pey ghazal, chal...
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peechey mat dekh na shamil ho gunahgaron mein
samne dekhke, manzil hai teri taaron mein
baat banti hai agar dil mey, iradey ho atal, chal…
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Hasrat Jaipuri
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About : This ghazal was written by the Urdu poet Hasrat Jaipuri who is also a renowned lyricist for Hindi cinema. The ghazal is about perseverence , compassion & never never saying die and is one of my absolute favorites for two reasons. One , because I love the lyrics and all the more because it is one of the songs I grew up listening to from my mother's amazing collection.The song has been beautifuly rendered by the brothers’ duo Ahmed Hussain and Mohd Hussain.
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Resources:
1) Listen to this amazing ghazal on musicindia online at the following link: http://www.musicindiaonline.com/p/x/dJ3pCwAeht.As1NMvHdW/?done_detect
2) Read more about Hasrat Jaipuri at wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hasrat_Jaipuri
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Image Information: This image is from http://www.flickr.com/photos/keysofvirtue/87850379/

Na tha kuch to....

the in-side by dandasights
( See image information below)

Na tha kuch to Khuda tha, kuch na hota to Khuda hota
Duboya mujhko hone ne, na hota main to kya hota ?
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Huaa jab gham se yoon behis to gham kya sar ke katne ka
Na hota gar juda tan se to zaanoon par dhara hota
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Huee muddat ke 'Ghalib' mar gaya par yaad aata hai
Wo har ek baat pe kehana, ke yoon hota to kya hota ?
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Mirza Ghalib
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Key to Urdu words: doboya = to drown, behis = shocked/stunned, zaanooN = knee , muddat = a long period
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Resources:
1) For a very good source of Tashree ( in depth interpretation ) of Ghalib's poetry see http://www.geocities.com/ziestnmot/
2) Listen to Jagjit Singh singing Na Kuch tha on You Tube : http://youtube.com/watch?v=3PXVUIdmeLo
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Monday, September 03, 2007

Auguries of Innocence..

( See image information below)

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
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A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov'd by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by woman lov'd.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the last judgement draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of envy's foot.
The poison of the honey bee
Is the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling bands,
Throughout all these human lands;
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright,
And return'd to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mock'd in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plow,
To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket's cry,
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.
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William Blake
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About the Poem: Auguries of Innocence, written by William Blake is a poem of paradoxes in life and the beauty in their irony. I have put my favorite lines from the poem in bold. The opening lines are absolutely enchanting and I love them. Priceless wisdom is packed in each line of the poem .Everytime you read it a new layer emerges!
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About the Poet: William Blake (1757 - 1827) was an English poet, visionary , painter and printmaker. Largely unrecognized during his lifetime, Blake's work is today considered great and significant in the history of both poetry and the visual arts. [1]
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In 1782, William Blake married an illiterate woman named Catherine Boucher. Blake taught her to read and to write, and also instructed her in draftsmanship. Later, she helped him print the illuminated poetry for which he is remembered today. Blake believed that his poetry could be read and understood by common people, but he was determined not to sacrifice his vision in order to become popular. [2]
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References :
[1] Read more about William Blake at Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_blake

[2] Read William Blake's Biography as well his other works at poets.org http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/116
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Image information : This image is from http://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=174098243&size=o

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Lagta nahee hai...

(see image information below)
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lagata nahee hai jee mera ujadey dayaar mein
kis kee banee hai aalam-e-naa-paayedaar mein
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[ My heart is not happy in this barren land
Who has ever felt fulfilled In this temporary world]
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keh do in hasaraton se kahee aur jaa basen
itnee jagah kahaan hai dil-e-daaGadaar mein
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[Please tell my desires * to go away somewhere else
there is not enough room for them in my sad heart]
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bulabul ko baagabaan se na saiyyaad se gilaa
qismat mein qaid thee likhee fasal-e-bahaar mein
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[The nighthingale laments neither to the gardnerer nor to the hunter
Imprisonment was written in fate in the season of spring]
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umr-e-daraaz maang ke laaye the chaar din
do aarazu mein kat gaye, do intzaar mein
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[I had requested for a long life a life of four days
Two were spent in wishing* and two were spent in waiting]
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hai kitna badnaseeb zafar dafn ke liye
do gaz zameen bhee na milee ku-e-yaar mein
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[ How unlucky Zafar is !For his burial
he could'nt get even two yards of earth in my beloved country]
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- Bahadur Shah Zafar
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About the Poet: Bahadur Shah Zafar was the last Mughal King of India and is regarded as one of the greatest Urdu Poets in Indian history. The British exiled Zafar to Rangoon ( now Yangon, Myanmar ) where he lived the last few years of his years yearning to return to his homeland. He died in Rangoon in 1862 and is buried there. The above poem was written by Zafar as his epitaph
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References:
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1) Read more about Bahadur Shah Zafar at wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bahadur_Shah_II
2) For a good collection of Zafar's poetry see http://www.urdupoetry.com/zafar.html
3) The English translation is from http://www.cs.colostate.edu/~malaiya/zafar.html and wikipedia ( except words marked by * , which I find more closer to the intended meaning)
Image Information: This image if from http://www.flickr.com/photos/jzakariya/191481747/