Page 1 of 3 123 LastLast
Results 1 to 10 of 22

Thread: Our Preferred Poets

  1. #1
    Senior Member Veteran Hubber Querida's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2004
    Location
    Canada
    Posts
    2,879
    Post Thanks / Like

    Our Preferred Poets

    I just thought it would be nice if the poets of this hub would like to share their own favourite poets and their poetry to start off one of my fav poets is ee cummings i love his style and sentimentality

    i carry your heart with me

    i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
    my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
    i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
    by only me is your doing,my darling)
    i fear
    no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
    no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
    and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
    and whatever a sun will always sing is you

    here is the deepest secret nobody knows
    (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
    and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
    higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
    and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

    i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

  2. # ADS
    Circuit advertisement
    Join Date
    Always
    Location
    Advertising world
    Posts
    Many
     

  3. #2
    Senior Member Regular Hubber
    Join Date
    Oct 2004
    Posts
    181
    Post Thanks / Like


    good one querida...

    but i think u missed to mention the poets name ...


  4. #3
    Senior Member Seasoned Hubber xlntbarani's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2004
    Posts
    1,410
    Post Thanks / Like

    Re: Our Preferred Poets

    Hi.. Q!

    Hope fine...


    Nice start ... and my favourite is the one and only .... short fellow who owned a grammer called as 'Vasuki' and wrote less than two lines to explain a concept....

    Thiru.Valluvan

    Innasey thaarai oRuththal avarnaaNa
    nanayanj seythu vidal - (314)


    ɡ
    Ţ (314)


    the best ones to set lifetime policies - no need for experimenting

    All are pure formulae - can be worked out blindly....

  5. #4
    Senior Member Veteran Hubber Querida's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2004
    Location
    Canada
    Posts
    2,879
    Post Thanks / Like
    Quote Originally Posted by suressh


    good one querida...

    but i think u missed to mention the poets name ...

    thanx suressh...read the blurb on top again it says ee cummings...all in small case letters just as he likes to be known

  6. #5
    Senior Member Veteran Hubber Querida's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2004
    Location
    Canada
    Posts
    2,879
    Post Thanks / Like
    well i would love to be talented enough to analyze and dissect poetry or even to capture the full meaningfulness of a poet's words...but mostly all i can do is appreciate what i manage to capture...

    here is another from the same poet (hey just for you suressh i bold :P )

    ee cummings - love is more thicker than forget

    love is more thicker than forget
    more thinner than recall
    more seldom than a wave is wet
    more frequent than to fail

    it is most mad and moonly
    and less it shall unbe
    than all the sea which only
    is deeper than the sea

    love is less always than to win
    less never than alive
    less bigger than the least begin
    less littler than forgive

    it is more sane and sunly
    and more it cannot die
    than all the sky which only
    is higher than the sky

  7. #6
    Senior Member Veteran Hubber Querida's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2004
    Location
    Canada
    Posts
    2,879
    Post Thanks / Like
    well i see i that there seem to be more poets here then poet lovers...i know ya'll biters and don't want to reveal your sources no? :P kidding but for the time being yet another poet to be acknowledged:

    Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Kubla Khan or A Vision in a dream. A Fragment.

    In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
    A stately pleasure-dome decree :
    Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
    Through caverns measureless to man

    Down to a sunless sea.

    So twice five miles of fertile ground
    With walls and towers were girdled round :
    And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
    Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
    And here were forests ancient as the hills,
    Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

    But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
    Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
    A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
    As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
    By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
    And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
    As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
    A mighty fountain momently was forced :
    Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
    Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
    Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
    And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
    It flung up momently the sacred river.
    Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
    Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
    Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
    And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
    And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
    Ancestral voices prophesying war !

    The shadow of the dome of pleasure
    Floated midway on the waves ;
    Where was heard the mingled measure
    From the fountain and the caves.

    It was a miracle of rare device,
    A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
    A damsel with a dulcimer
    In a vision once I saw :
    It was an Abyssinian maid,
    And on her dulcimer she played,
    Singing of Mount Abora.
    Could I revive within me
    Her symphony and song,
    To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

    That with music loud and long,
    I would build that dome in air,
    That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
    And all who heard should see them there,
    And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
    His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
    Weave a circle round him thrice,
    And close your eyes with holy dread,
    For he on honey-dew hath fed,
    And drunk the milk of Paradise

    jfyui (just for your useless info): Coleridge the old poppysniffer coined the word greenery

  8. #7
    Senior Member Platinum Hubber Shakthiprabha.'s Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2004
    Location
    Vagabond
    Posts
    13,159
    Post Thanks / Like
    I enjoyed the last one.

    Haunting.. Has a perfect effect of a haunted painting
    with wordless tales to be woven around

  9. #8
    Senior Member Veteran Hubber Querida's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2004
    Location
    Canada
    Posts
    2,879
    Post Thanks / Like
    this poem is truly that of a man who knows he was doomed ..Keats at the time of writing this poem already knew he had tuberculosis the same disease that took away his beloved mother and brother...both of whom he nursed personally, Keats died at the tender age of 26 :

    John Keats - Ode to a Nightingale


    My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
    My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
    Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
    One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
    Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
    But being too happy in thine happiness,
    That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
    In some melodious plot
    Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
    Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

    O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
    Coold a long age in the deep-delved earth,
    Tasting of Flora and the country green,
    Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
    O for a beaker full of the warm South,
    Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
    With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
    And purple-stained mouth;
    That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
    And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

    Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
    What thou among the leaves hast never known,
    The weariness, the fever, and the fret
    Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
    Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
    Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
    Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
    And leaden-eyed despairs,
    Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
    Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

    Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
    Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
    But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
    Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
    Already with thee! tender is the night,
    And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
    Clusterd around by all her starry Fays;
    But here there is no light,
    Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
    Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

    I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
    Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
    But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
    Wherewith the seasonable month endows
    The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
    White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
    Fast fading violets coverd up in leaves;
    And mid-Mays eldest child,
    The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
    The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

    Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
    I have been half in love with easeful Death,
    Calld him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
    To take into the air my quiet breath;
    Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
    To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
    While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
    In such an ecstasy!
    Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain
    To thy high requiem become a sod.

    Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
    No hungry generations tread thee down;
    The voice I hear this passing night was heard
    In ancient days by emperor and clown:
    Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
    Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
    She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
    The same that oft-times hath
    Charmd magic casements, opening on the foam
    Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

    Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
    To toil me back from thee to my sole self!
    Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
    As she is famd to do, deceiving elf.
    Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
    Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
    Up the hill-side; and now tis buried deep
    In the next valley-glades:
    Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
    Fled is that musico I wake or sleep?

  10. #9
    Administrator Diamond Hubber RR's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2004
    Posts
    6,537
    Post Thanks / Like
    Good ones, Querida! I'll post my selections soon.

  11. #10
    Senior Member Seasoned Hubber xlntbarani's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2004
    Posts
    1,410
    Post Thanks / Like
    Hai Querida...

    Thiru.Valluvan

    Innasey thaarai oRuththal avarnaaNa
    nanayanj seythu vidal - (314)


    ɡ
    Ţ (314)


    English translationL
    The best punishment to violent harm is to put
    the doer in pain of shame, in good turns.

    This is the one of 1330 verses... of Thirukural
    To view other Kurals in English translation
    http://www.coimbatore.net/kural/ku_1.html

    Regards
    barani

Page 1 of 3 123 LastLast

Similar Threads

  1. Film Poets of Yesteryears
    By NOV in forum Memories of Yesteryears
    Replies: 13
    Last Post: 22nd September 2010, 10:03 AM

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •