tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-99041112024-03-05T16:06:26.266-05:00BeyondstarsA place for sharing my passion for poetry of this beautiful life that is ours for taking, making and giving.Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.comBlogger406125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-88577705506485658422020-09-08T15:37:00.004-04:002020-09-08T15:40:07.578-04:00The end is beginning's sister <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">- Mahmoud Darwish , The Butterfly's Burden </div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-54000051803222805882020-09-06T13:42:00.003-04:002020-09-06T13:46:59.872-04:00Devotions <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-59216830999814964082020-09-01T21:09:00.002-04:002020-09-06T13:44:16.112-04:00Karna Fakeeree Tab Kya Dil Geree <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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- Meera Bhajan</div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-69609198669462074472020-03-02T17:19:00.000-05:002020-03-02T17:19:14.210-05:00Encounter <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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- Czeslaw Milosz, Bells in Winter </div>
<br />Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-14435741177418665432020-03-02T17:03:00.001-05:002020-03-02T17:19:46.805-05:00Autotomy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Afterworld by Neha </td></tr>
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In danger, the holothurian cuts itself in two.<br />
It abandons one self to a hungry world<br />
and with the other self it flees.<br />
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It violently divides into doom and salvation,<br />
retribution and reward, what has been and what will be.<br />
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An abyss appears in the middle of its body<br />
between what instantly become two foreign shores.<br />
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Life on one shore, death on the other.<br />
Here hope and there despair.<br />
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If there are scales, the pans don’t move.<br />
If there is justice, this is it.<br />
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To die just as required, without excess.<br />
To grow back just what’s needed from what’s left.<br />
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We, too, can divide ourselves, it’s true.<br />
But only into flesh and a broken whisper.<br />
Into flesh and poetry.<br />
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The throat on one side, laughter on the other,<br />
quiet, quickly dying out.<br />
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Here the heavy heart, there<i> non omnis moriar</i>—<br />
just three little words, like a flight’s three feathers.<br />
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The abyss doesn’t divide us.<br />
The abyss surrounds us.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>In memoriam Halina Poświatowska</i><br />
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- Wislawa SzymborskaNeha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-68926055039614712012019-11-02T23:39:00.000-04:002019-11-03T21:54:14.942-05:00Kufr <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Badal-ta Ras-ta by Neha </td></tr>
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aaj assa ek duniya vechi<br />
aaj assa ek duniya vechi<br />
te ek deen ve aaj le aaye<br />
gaal <a href="https://www.rekhta.org/urdudictionary?keyword=kufr">kufr</a> di kitti<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>today we sold one world</i></span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763;"><i>today we sold one world</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>then, returned with a new faith today </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>we did a </i></span><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99);"><i>blasphemous</i></span></span><i style="color: #073763;"> thing</i><br />
<br />
supney da ek thaan udhaya<br />
supney da ek thaan udhaya<br />
gaj ku kapda paad le aate<br />
umar di choli sitti<br />
aaj assa ek duniya vechi<br />
gaal kufr di kitti<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #073763;">we picked a fabric of dreams </span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #073763;">we picked a fabric of dreams </span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #073763;">tore one yard of cloth,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #073763;">sewed a blouse of the ages </span></i><br />
<i style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763;">today we sold one world</i><br />
<i style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763;">we did a blasphemous thing</i><br />
<br />
aaj assa ambar de kaliyon<br />
baddal di ek chhapni layi<br />
aaj assa ambar de kaliyon<br />
baddal di ek chhapni layi<br />
kut chandni pitti<br />
aaj assi ek duniya vechi <br />
te ek deen ve aaj li aaye<br />
gaal kufr di kitti<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>today, from the sky’s pitcher</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>we lifted the cloud cover,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>today, from the sky’s pitcher</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>we lifted the cloud cover,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>and took one gulp of moonlight</i></span><br />
<i style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763;">today we sold one world</i><br />
<i style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763;">we did a blasphemous thing</i><br />
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geeta naal chuka javange<br />
geeta naal chuka javange<br />
ye jo assa maut deko nu<br />
kadi udhari litti<br />
aaj assi ek duniya vechi<br />
te ek deen ve aaj li aaye<br />
gaal kufr di kitti<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>we will pay the price in songs</i></span><br />
<i style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763;">we will pay the price in songs</i><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>for this, from death - you see, </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>we have taken moments on a loan </i></span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99);"><span style="color: #073763;"><i>today we sold one world</i></span></span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99);"><span style="color: #073763;"><i>we did a </i></span></span><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99);"><i>blasphemous </i></span></span><i style="color: #073763;">thing</i><br />
<br />
main shaah te shayad tu vi<br />
main shaah te shayad tu vi<br />
shayad ek shaah de vich dikhlota<br />
shayad ek nazar de nere te baitha<br />
shayad ahsaas de ek mod pe tola<br />
aur wo pra aitihasik samay aadi gale<br />
main shaah te shayad tu vi<br />
<br />
ae meri te teri ho nashi<br />
jo duniya di aad passa bani<br />
main di pehchan de akhar manne<br />
tu bhi pehchan de akhar manne<br />
te o na o aad passa di aad pustak<br />
likhi mai shah te shayad tu vi<br />
<br />
ae mera te tera mel si<br />
assi pathran di sej te sute<br />
te akhaan hooth olam pokhate<br />
mere te tere badan de akhar manne<br />
te unnao naal pustak anuvad kitti<br />
rig veda di rachna te bahoot pichhu di galle<br />
main shah te shayad tu vi<br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>that was our tryst, yours and mine</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>we slept on a bed of stones</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>and our eyes, lips and fingertips,</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>became the letters of your body and mine</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>they then made the translation of this first book</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><i>the rig veda was compiled much later.</i></span><br />
<br />
shayad ek shaah de rith dikhlota<br />
shayad ek nazar te nere te baitha<br />
shayad ahsaas de ek mod te thurla<br />
pur pra aitihasik samay saadi ghale<br />
<br />
- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wX-atbr7zc">Amrita Pritam </a>Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-90516276929563896612019-11-02T16:25:00.003-04:002019-11-02T16:25:36.768-04:00Famous <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very famous umbrella by Neha </td></tr>
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The river is famous to the fish.<br />
<br />
The loud voice is famous to silence, <br />
which knew it would inherit the earth <br />
before anybody said so. <br />
<br />
The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds <br />
watching him from the birdhouse. <br />
<br />
The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek. <br />
<br />
The idea you carry close to your bosom <br />
is famous to your bosom. <br />
<br />
The boot is famous to the earth, <br />
more famous than the dress shoe, <br />
which is famous only to floors.<br />
<br />
The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it <br />
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured. <br />
<br />
I want to be famous to shuffling men <br />
who smile while crossing streets, <br />
sticky children in grocery lines, <br />
famous as the one who smiled back.<br />
<br />
I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous, <br />
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular, <br />
but because it never forgot what it could do.<br />
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- Naomi Shihab Nye </div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-56547654495431338192019-10-05T16:40:00.000-04:002019-10-05T16:40:16.189-04:00The little ways that encourage good fortune <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watch your step by Neha </td></tr>
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Wisdom is having things right in your life<br />
and knowing why.<br />
If you do not have things right in your life<br />
you will be overwhelmed:<br />
you may be heroic, but you will not be wise.<br />
If you have things right in your life<br />
but do not know why,<br />
you are just lucky, and you will not move<br />
in the little ways that encourage good fortune.<br />
<br />
The saddest are those not right in their lives<br />
who are acting to make things right for others:<br />
they act only from the self--<br />
and that self will never be right:<br />
no luck, no help, no wisdom.<br />
<br />
- William StaffordNeha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-32847317993134557632019-10-02T21:26:00.000-04:002019-10-15T22:32:17.922-04:00What Will Remain ?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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- Mahmoud Darwish, The Butterfly's Burden </div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-20684297788372754242019-09-08T08:55:00.000-04:002019-09-08T09:04:26.838-04:00The Fish in the Sea Is Not Thirsty <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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- The Kabir Book, Ecstatic Poems of Kabir, Versions by Robert Bly </div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-67028902918294809242019-04-27T17:43:00.002-04:002019-04-27T17:48:55.347-04:00Shaking Hands <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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- Sorry for your troubles, Pádraig Ó Tuama</div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-75372256009907679492019-04-25T00:29:00.001-04:002019-04-25T00:29:39.007-04:00Love After Love <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Lovejoy Columns by Neha</td></tr>
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The time will come<br />
when, with elation<br />
you will greet yourself arriving<br />
at your own door, in your own mirror<br />
and each will smile at the other's welcome,<br />
<br />
and say, sit here. Eat.<br />
You will love again the stranger who was your self.<br />
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart<br />
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you<br />
<br />
all your life, whom you ignored<br />
for another, who knows you by heart.<br />
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,<br />
<br />
the photographs, the desperate notes,<br />
peel your own image from the mirror.<br />
Sit. Feast on your life.<br />
<br />
- Derek WalcottNeha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-87542751377418699262019-04-25T00:20:00.002-04:002019-04-25T00:20:54.258-04:00ABC<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unknowable Pedestrian Birds by Neha </td></tr>
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I’ll never find out now<br />
What A. thought of me.<br />
If B. ever forgave me in the end.<br />
Why C. pretended everything was fine.<br />
What part D. played in E’s silence.<br />
What F. had been expecting, if anything.<br />
Why G. forgot when she knew perfectly well.<br />
What H. had to hide.<br />
What I. wanted to add.<br />
If my being around<br />
meant anything<br />
to J. and K. and the rest of the alphabet.<br />
<br />
- Wislawa Szymborska<br />
<br />Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-2513699098845971662019-04-25T00:08:00.003-04:002019-11-02T22:22:53.391-04:00एक मुलाकात <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">अब रात घिरने लगी - नेहा</td></tr>
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मैं चुप शान्त और अडोल खड़ी थी<br />
सिर्फ पास बहते समुन्द्र में तूफान था……<b>फिर समुन्द्र को खुदा जाने</b><br />
<b>क्या ख्याल आया</b><br />
<b>उसने तूफान की एक पोटली सी बांधी</b><br />
<b>मेरे हाथों में थमाई</b><br />
<b>और हंस कर कुछ दूर हो गया</b><br />
<br />
<b>हैरान थी….</b><br />
<b>पर उसका चमत्कार ले लिया</b><br />
<b>पता था कि इस प्रकार की घटना</b><br />
<b>कभी सदियों में होती है…..</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>लाखों ख्याल आये</b><br />
<b>माथे में झिलमिलाये</b><br />
<br />
<b>पर खड़ी रह गयी कि उसको उठा कर</b><br />
<b>अब अपने शहर में कैसे जाऊंगी?</b><br />
<br />
मेरे शहर की हर गली संकरी<br />
मेरे शहर की हर छत नीची<br />
मेरे शहर की हर दीवार चुगली<br />
<br />
सोचा कि अगर तू कहीं मिले<br />
तो समुन्द्र की तरह<br />
इसे छाती पर रख कर<br />
हम दो किनारों की तरह हंस सकते थे<br />
<br />
और नीची छतों<br />
और संकरी गलियों<br />
के शहर में बस सकते थे….<br />
<br />
पर सारी दोपहर तुझे ढूंढते बीती<br />
और अपनी आग का मैंने<br />
आप ही घूंट पिया<br />
<br />
<b>मैं अकेला किनारा</b><br />
<b>किनारे को गिरा दिया</b><br />
<b>और जब दिन ढलने को था</b><br />
<b>समुन्द्र का तूफान</b><br />
<b>समुन्द्र को लौटा दिया…</b>.<br />
<br />
अब रात घिरने लगी तो तूं मिला है<br />
तूं भी उदास, चुप, शान्त और अडोल<br />
मैं भी उदास, चुप, शान्त और अडोल<br />
<b>सिर्फ- दूर बहते समुन्द्र में तूफान है…..</b><br />
<br />
- अमृता प्रीतम<br />
<br />Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-66464656058242808752019-04-20T11:55:00.002-04:002019-04-20T12:12:33.954-04:00Charāġhoñ ko<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dhoop by Neha </td></tr>
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Charāġhoñ ko āñkhoñ meñ mahfūz rakhnā </div>
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baḌī duur tak raat hī raat hogī </div>
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Musāfir haiñ ham bhī musāfir ho tum bhī </div>
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kisī moḌ par phir mulāqāt hogī </div>
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- Bashir Badr </div>
<br />Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-36954488354144744812019-03-31T16:03:00.003-04:002019-03-31T16:04:18.271-04:00Affirmative Action <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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- Pádraig Ó Tuama, readings from the book of exile</div>
<br />Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-59166443815272071482019-03-26T08:06:00.003-04:002019-03-26T08:06:44.746-04:00A n d i s n' t i t t r u e f o r a l l o f u s<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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- Pádraig Ó Tuama, Sorry for your troubles </div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-17431297447207786782019-03-26T07:39:00.002-04:002019-03-26T07:43:45.973-04:00Odes<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Held by Neha </td></tr>
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1.<br />
Of the gardens of Adonis, Lydia, I love<br />
Most of all those fugitive roses<br />
That on the day they are born,<br />
That very day, must also die.<br />
Eternal, for them, the light of day:<br />
They're born when the sun is already high<br />
And die before Apollo's course<br />
<br />
Across the visible sky is run.<br />
We too, of our lives, must make one day:<br />
We never know, my Lydia, nor want<br />
To know of nights before or after<br />
The little while that we may last.<br />
2.<br />
To be great, <i>be whole: nothing that's you</i><br />
<i> Should you exaggerate or exclude.</i><br />
<i>In each thing, be all. Give all you are</i><br />
<i> In the least you ever do.</i><br />
The whole moon, because it rides so high,<br />
Is reflected in each pool.<br />
<br />
- Ricardo Reis ( Fernando Pessoa), Translated by Edouard Roditi<br />
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Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-57907129762318780712019-03-26T07:31:00.001-04:002019-03-26T07:31:46.157-04:00Thanks <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Signs by Neha</td></tr>
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Listen<br />
with the night falling we are saying thank you<br />
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings<br />
we are running out of the glass rooms<br />
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky<br />
and say thank you<br />
we are standing by the water thanking it<br />
standing by the windows looking out<br />
in our directions<br />
<br />
back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging<br />
after funerals we are saying thank you<br />
after the news of the dead<br />
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you<br />
<br />
over telephones we are saying thank you<br />
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators<br />
remembering wars and the police at the door<br />
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you<br />
in the banks we are saying thank you<br />
in the faces of the officials and the rich<br />
and of all who will never change<br />
we go on saying thank you thank you<br />
<br />
with the animals dying around us<br />
taking our feelings we are saying thank you<br />
with the forests falling faster than the minutes<br />
of our lives we are saying thank you<br />
with the words going out like cells of a brain<br />
with the cities growing over us<br />
we are saying thank you faster and faster<br />
with nobody listening we are saying thank you<br />
thank you we are saying and waving<br />
dark though it is<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
- W.S.Merwin, Migration: New and Selected Poems, Copper Canyon Press, 2005</div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-58251488688963792722018-12-31T23:50:00.000-05:002018-12-31T23:50:28.881-05:00Long Afternoon At The Edge Of Little Sister Pond <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">चलना और स्थिरता by Neha </td></tr>
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As for life,<br />
I’m humbled,<br />
I’m without words<br />
sufficient to say<br />
<br />
how it has been hard as flint,<br />
and soft as a spring pond,<br />
both of these<br />
and over and over,<br />
<br />
and long pale afternoons besides,<br />
and so many mysteries<br />
beautiful as eggs in a nest,<br />
still unhatched<br />
<br />
though warm and watched over<br />
by something I have never seen –<br />
a tree angel, perhaps,<br />
or a ghost of holiness.<br />
<br />
Every day I walk out into the world<br />
to be dazzled, then to be reflective.<br />
It suffices, it is all comfort –<br />
along with human love...<br />
<br />
**********************<br />
<br />
Still, what I want in my life<br />
is to be willing<br />
to be dazzled —<br />
to cast aside the weight of facts<br />
<br />
and maybe even<br />
to float a little<br />
above this difficult world.<br />
I want to believe I am looking<br />
<br />
into the white fire of a great mystery.<br />
I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing —<br />
that the light is everything — that it is more than the sum<br />
of each flawed blossom rising and fading. And I do.<br />
<br />
- Mary Oliver<br />
<br />Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-75526674227788638722018-12-31T23:42:00.000-05:002018-12-31T23:42:06.345-05:00Ye Khayal Accha Hai <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZAq8-LZcegMYLdRrHmgn1heyTiuYQM4f0Gm0mbRn1N67yyDvmg0Mkaw4k7wzlly-Mpdbc7zRPuEUOUPrsMYEqNG-NkVSSHFgMDnPZ1I6THfCd9-cBBtIr-uVq8N0jOk8sltlkw/s1600/IMG_4066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZAq8-LZcegMYLdRrHmgn1heyTiuYQM4f0Gm0mbRn1N67yyDvmg0Mkaw4k7wzlly-Mpdbc7zRPuEUOUPrsMYEqNG-NkVSSHFgMDnPZ1I6THfCd9-cBBtIr-uVq8N0jOk8sltlkw/s320/IMG_4066.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">बूगनबेल by Neha </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Aur bazaar se le aaye agar toot gayaa<br />
Saagar-e-Jam se mera jaam-e-sifaal achaa hai<br />
<br />
unke dekhe se jo aa jaati hai munh par raunaq,<br />
woh samajhtey hain ke beemaar ka haal achaa hai<br />
<br />
dekhiye paate hain ushshaaq buton se kya faiz,<br />
ik brahman ne kaha hai, ke yeh saal achaa hai<br />
<br />
ham ko ma.alūm hai jannat kī haqīqat lekin<br />
dil ke ḳhush rakhne ko 'ġhālib' ye ḳhayal achaa hai<br />
<br />
- Mirza GhalibNeha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-86118795308690828592018-12-31T19:26:00.001-05:002018-12-31T19:33:41.402-05:00A Speech at the Lost-and-Found <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gCpMhFrnm38/XCq1XLKVEXI/AAAAAAAARdM/Z0d8R7tnU_oeKVeN-R0mlFGI00V_37SFACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_8828%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1311" data-original-width="1600" height="327" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gCpMhFrnm38/XCq1XLKVEXI/AAAAAAAARdM/Z0d8R7tnU_oeKVeN-R0mlFGI00V_37SFACLcBGAs/s400/IMG_8828%2B2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
- <a href="https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/literature/1996/szymborska/lecture/">Wislawa Szymborska, Map, Collected and Last Poems</a></div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-70878508469210191912018-12-25T09:22:00.001-05:002018-12-25T09:22:07.795-05:00The Secret <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UdSbWjQgGrw/XCI8jtEQhOI/AAAAAAAARbw/xJ-xYwJkg2EcutkcId2p9JQMlJEJXJQzwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UdSbWjQgGrw/XCI8jtEQhOI/AAAAAAAARbw/xJ-xYwJkg2EcutkcId2p9JQMlJEJXJQzwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_5359.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tabiir by Neha </td></tr>
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Two girls discover <br />
the secret of life <br />
in a sudden line of <br />
poetry.<br />
<br />
I who don’t know the <br />
secret wrote <br />
the line. They <br />
told me<br />
<br />
(through a third person) <br />
they had found it<br />
but not what it was <br />
not even<br />
<br />
what line it was. No doubt <br />
by now, more than a week <br />
later, they have forgotten <br />
the secret,<br />
<br />
the line, the name of <br />
the poem. I love them <br />
for finding what <br />
I can’t find,<br />
<br />
and for loving me <br />
for the line I wrote, <br />
and for forgetting it <br />
so that<br />
<br />
a thousand times, till death <br />
finds them, they may <br />
discover it again, in other <br />
lines<br />
<br />
in other <br />
happenings. And for <br />
wanting to know it, <br />
for<br />
<br />
assuming there is <br />
such a secret, yes, <br />
for that <br />
most of all.<br />
<br />
- <a href="https://www.brainpickings.org/2012/03/14/denise-levertov-the-secret/">Denise Levertov</a><br />
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<br /></div>
Neha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-64880922209135388392018-12-24T19:53:00.001-05:002018-12-24T19:53:27.099-05:00Star-gazer <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yWQE3UfsarA/XCF_KgwadSI/AAAAAAAARbI/bZvPjnGYy74EcU6v6MI7Wi1Nd_leP8vcQCLcBGAs/s1600/Nightsky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yWQE3UfsarA/XCF_KgwadSI/AAAAAAAARbI/bZvPjnGYy74EcU6v6MI7Wi1Nd_leP8vcQCLcBGAs/s320/Nightsky.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miniature, India, Bundi,18th century</td></tr>
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Forty-two years ago (to me if to no one else<br />
The number is of some interest) it was a brilliant starry night<br />
And the westward train was empty and had no corridors<br />
So darting from side to side I could catch the unwonted sight<br />
Of those almost intolerably bright<br />
Holes, punched in the sky, which excited me partly because<br />
Of their Latin names and partly because I had read in the textbooks<br />
How very far off they were, it seemed their light<br />
Had left them (some at least) long years before I was.<br />
<br />
And this remembering now I mark that what<br />
Light was leaving some of them at least then,<br />
Forty-two years ago, will never arrive<br />
In time for me to catch it, which light when<br />
It does get here may find that there is not<br />
Anyone left alive<br />
To run from side to side in a late night train<br />
Admiring it and adding noughts in vain.<br />
<br />
- Louis MacneiceNeha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9904111.post-70525958468596594482018-12-24T19:28:00.001-05:002020-06-27T21:07:58.314-04:00Mera Pata (My Address)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lVYWnRM0Vh4/XCF5FyJnOyI/AAAAAAAARa8/bDMiSVhbbU0ZKXbbetj_XuzOYkqdwCznwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="239" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lVYWnRM0Vh4/XCF5FyJnOyI/AAAAAAAARa8/bDMiSVhbbU0ZKXbbetj_XuzOYkqdwCznwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_9188.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sky in by Neha<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Aaj main apne ghar da number mittaiyan hai /<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><i><b>Today I have erased the number of my house</b></i></span><br />
<br />
Te gali de matthe de lagaa gali da naam hataaiya hai/<br />
<b><span style="color: #666666;"><i>And removed the stain of identity from my street’s forehead</i></span></b><br />
<br />
Te har sadak di disha da naam punjh ditta hai/<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><b><i>And I have wiped off the directions on each road</i></b></span><br />
<br />
Par je tussa mainu zaroor labhna hai/<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><b><i>But if you really want to meet me</i></b></span><br />
<br />
Ta har des de, har sheher di, har gali da booha thakoro /<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><b><i>Then knock at the doors of every country, every city, every street</i></b></span><br />
<br />
Ih ik sraap hai, ik var hai/<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><b><i>This is a curse, a blessing. </i></b></span><br />
<br />
Te jitthe vi sutantar rooh di jhalak paavey /<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><b><i>And wherever the glimpse of a free spirit exists</i></b></span><br />
.<br />
........samajhna uh mera ghar hai /<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><b><i>Understand that as my home. </i></b></span><br />
<br />
- Amrita PritamNeha Misrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615852099487838038noreply@blogger.com0