Spring Visit – Bai Juyi

Remnants of sun ribbon the river–
half and half, black river red.
Third night, ninth month lovely hour;
pearled dew, bent bow moon.

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A Foresaken Garden – Bai Juyi

I enter the court
Through the middle gate—
And my sleeve is wet with tears.

The flowers still grow
In the courtyard,
Though two springs have fled
Since last their master came.

The windows, porch, and bamboo screen
Are just as they always were,
But at the entrance to the house
Someone is missing—

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After Lunch – Bai Juyi

After eating lunch, I feel so sleepy.
Waking later, I sip two bowls of tea,

then notice shadows aslant, the sun
already low in the southwest again.

Joyful people resent fleeting days.
Sad ones can’t bear the slow yers.

It’s those with no joy and no sorrow—
they trust whatever this life brings.

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The Philosopher – Bai Juyi

“Those who speak know nothing;
Those who know are silent.”
These words, as I am told,
Were spoken by Lao Tzu.
If we are to believe that Lao Ttzu
Was himself one who knew,
How comes it that he wrote a book
Of five thousand words?

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Night Snow – Bai Juyi

Startled at the cold stiffness of my pillow,
I see that the window is a sheet of pure white.
Deep in the night, the weight of snow increases
Until I hear bamboo snapping in the darkness.

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Justice – Archie Greenidge

Justice, justice, justice!
Where art thou? ye Stewarth?
Justice is the very warmth of an inn,
When interred from the bitter slippery, frosty storm.
Justice is the norm.
It’s illusive to the door, like a very fastened door,
Cannot be entrusted to flurry mind.
Justice must be mandated.
With justice the waves are calm,
There is never a harm.
No one needs justice until
They themselves are imprisoned.
Justice is not heresy,
It’s the healing of the soul.

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A Strange Justice – Afzal Shauq

The one
who is supposed to
give me justice has
amazingly declared her heart
as a court,
she herself as a judge to hear,
her brain as a lawyer to plea,
herself witnesses to prove,
even then
her decisions are also based on
the rules and regulations
mentioned in the black book of law,
she constructed herself
as per her own willingness too.

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Cant Get No Justice – Eric Cockrell

black man
in them poverty chains
cant get no justice
in them sterile white courts.

blue collar man
in them grimy working chains
cant get no justice
in them insulated courts.

freedom man
in them speak out chains
cant get no justice
in them walled off courts.

poor woman, ha!
in them second class chains
cant get no justice
in them man-god courts.

you and me
in them angry tired chains
cant get no justice
in them fictional courts!

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Bush Justice – Charles Harpur

A Dealer, bewitched by gain-promising dreams
Settled down near my Station, to trade with my Teams,
And to sell to, my men too! from whom, through the nose,
Until then, I had screw’d just what prices I chose;
And for this, to be sure, I so hated the man,
That I swore ne’er to rest till I’d settled some plan
Whereby in the Lockup to cleverly cram him!
And so to my Super the matter I put,
Who thereupon ‘found’ a sheep’s head near his hut,
And the ‘how came it there?’ was sufficient to damn him,
The Beak before who I then lugg’d him, as you
May suppose, being neck-deep in Squattery too.

‘Twas a beautiful Hearing, as noted at large
By the Clerk (who was bonuss’d)-sheep-stealing the charge;
‘Twould make your hearts laugh in the Records to see
How we bullied him out of his wits! -I say we,
Because while on this side against him 1 banged,
On the other the Beak said he ought to be hanged,
For a gallows-grained, scandalous son of transgression!
And committing him then-the case being so plain,
We sent him three hundred miles ‘down on the chain’
To his Trial-and eke to his ‘acquittal’, at Session!
For what care we Squatters for Law on a push?
And for Justice! what has she to do with the Bush?

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Justice – Langston Hughes

That Justice is a blind goddess
Is a thing to which we black are wise:
Her bandage hides two festering sores
That once perhaps were eyes.

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The Fool – Gautam Buddha

Lord Gautam Buddha

Lord Gautam Buddha 563 BCE – 480 BCE


Long is the night to one who is awake.
Long is ten miles to one who is tired.
Long is the cycle of birth and death
to the fool who does not know the true path.

If a traveller does not meet with one who is better or equal,
let one firmly travel alone;
there is no companionship with a fool.

‘These sons belong to me, and this wealth belongs to me;’
with such thoughts a fool is tormented.
One does not belong to oneself;
how much less sons and wealth?

The fool who knows one’s own folly,
is wise at least to that extent;
but the fool who thinks oneself wise is really a fool.

If a fool is associated with a wise person all one’s life,
the fool will not perceive the truth,
any more than a spoon will taste the soup.

If an intelligent person is associated with a wise person
for only one minute, one will soon perceive the truth,
just as the tongue does the taste of soup.

Fools of little understanding are their own worst enemies,
for they do wrong deeds which bear bitter fruits.
That action is not well done, which having been done,
brings remorse, whose result one receives crying with tears.
But that action is well done, which having been done,
does not bring remorse,
whose result one receives gladly and cheerfully.

As long as the wrong action does not bear fruit,
the fool thinks it is like honey;
but when it bears fruit, then the fool suffers grief.

Let a fool month after month
eat food with the tip of kusha grass;
nevertheless one is not worth one-sixteenth
of those who have understood the truth.

A wrong action, like newly drawn milk, does not turn soon;
smouldering, like fire covered by ashes, it follows the fool.
When the wrong action, after it has become known,
turns to sorrow for the fool,
then it destroys one’s brightness and splits the head.

Let the fool wish for reputation,
for precedence among the mendicants,
for authority in the convents,
for veneration among the people.

‘Let both the householders and the mendicants
think that this is done by me.
Let them always ask me
what should be done and what should not be done.’

Such is the wish of the fool
of increasing desire and pride.
One road leads to wealth; another road leads to nirvana.
Let the mendicant, the disciple of Buddha, learn this,
and not strive for honour but seek wisdom.

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The Downward Course – Gautam Buddha

Gautam Buddha

Gautam Buddha 563 BCE – 480 BC


He who says what is not, goes to hell; he also who, having done a thing, says I have not done it. After death both are equal, they are
men with evil deeds in the next world.

Many men whose shoulders are covered with the yellow gown are ill-conditioned and unrestrained; such evil-doers by their evil deeds go to hell.

Better it would be to swallow a heated iron ball, like flaring fire, than that a bad unrestrained fellow should live on the charity of the land.

Four things does a wreckless man gain who covets his neighbour’s wife,-a bad reputation, an uncomfortable bed, thirdly, punishment, and lastly, hell.

There is bad reputation, and the evil way (to hell), there is the short pleasure of the frightened in the arms of the frightened, and the king imposes heavy punishment; therefore let no man think of his neighbour’s wife.

As a grass-blade, if badly grasped, cuts the arm, badly-practised asceticism leads to hell.

An act carelessly performed, a broken vow, and hesitating obedience to discipline, all this brings no great reward.

If anything is to be done, let a man do it, let him attack it vigorously! A careless pilgrim only scatters the dust of his passions
more widely.

An evil deed is better left undone, for a man repents of it afterwards; a good deed is better done, for having done it, one does not repent.

Like a well-guarded frontier fort, with defences within and without, so let a man guard himself. Not a moment should escape, for they who allow the right moment to pass, suffer pain when they are in hell.

They who are ashamed of what they ought not to be ashamed of, and are not ashamed of what they ought to be ashamed of, such men,
embracing false doctrines enter the evil path.

They who fear when they ought not to fear, and fear not when they ought to fear, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil

They who forbid when there is nothing to be forbidden, and forbid not when there is something to be forbidden, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil path.

They who know what is forbidden as forbidden, and what is not forbidden as not forbidden, such men, embracing the true doctrine,
enter the good path.

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The Just – Gautam Buddha


Lord Gautam Buddha 563 BC – 480 BC


Whoever settles a matter by violence is not just.
The wise calmly considers what is right and what is wrong.
Whoever guides others by a procedure
that is nonviolent and fair
is said to be a guardian of truth, wise and just.

A person is not wise simply because one talks much.
Whoever is patient, free from hate and fear,
is said to be wise.

A person is not a supporter of justice
simply because one talks much.
Even if a person has learned little,
whoever discerns justice with the body
and does not neglect justice is a supporter of justice.

A person is not an elder
simply because one’s head is gray.
Age can be ripe, but one may be called ‘old in vain.’
The one in whom there is truth,
virtue, nonviolence, restraint, moderation,
whoever is free from impurity and is wise,
may be called an elder.

Mere talk or beauty of complexion does not make
an envious, greedy, dishonest person become respectable.
The one in whom all these are destroyed,
torn out by the very root,
who is free from hate and is wise, is called respectable.

Not by a shaven head does one who is undisciplined
and speaks falsely become an ascetic.
Can a person be an ascetic
who is still enslaved by desire and greed?
Whoever always quiets wrong tendencies, small or large,
is called an ascetic, because of having quieted all wrong.

A person is not a mendicant
simply because one begs from others.
Whoever adopts the whole truth is a mendicant,
not the one who adopts only a part.
Whoever is above good and bad and is chaste,
who carefully passes through the world in meditation,
is truly called a mendicant.

A person does not become a sage by silence,
if one is foolish and ignorant;
but the wise one, who, holding a scale,
takes what is good and avoids what is bad,
is a sage for that reason.
Whoever in this world weighs both sides
is called a sage because of that.

A person is not a noble,
because one injures living beings.
One is called noble,
because one does not injure living beings.

Not only by discipline and vows,
not only by much learning,
nor by deep concentration nor by sleeping alone
do I reach the joy of release which the worldly cannot know.
Mendicant, do not be confident
until you have reached the extinction of impurities.

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The Thousands – Gautam Buddha

Lord Gautam Buddha

Lord Gautam Buddha 563 BCE – 480 BCE


Better than a thousand meaningless words
is one sensible word if hearing it one becomes peaceful.
Better than a thousand meaningless verses
is one word of verse if hearing it one becomes peaceful.
Better than reciting one hundred verses of meaningless words
is one poem if hearing it one becomes peaceful.

If a person were to conquer in battle
a thousand times a thousand people,
if another conquers oneself,
that one is the greatest conqueror.

Conquering oneself is better than conquering other people;
not even a god, a spirit, nor Mara with Brahma,
could turn into a defeat the victory
of one who always practices the discipline of self-control.

If a person month after month for a hundred years
should sacrifice with a thousand offerings,
and if but for one moment that person paid reverence
to one whose soul is grounded in knowledge,
better is that reverence than a hundred years of sacrifices.

If a person for a hundred years
should worship Agni in the forest,
and if but for one moment that person paid reverence
to one whose soul is grounded in knowledge,
better is that reverence than a hundred years of worship.

Whatever a person sacrifices in this world
as an offering or as an oblation
for a whole year in order to gain merit,
the whole of it is not worth a quarter.
Reverence shown to the virtuous is better.
To the one who always reveres and respects the aged,
four things increase: life, health, happiness, and power.

Better than a hundred years
lived in vice and unrestrained
is living one day if a person is virtuous and contemplative.
Better than a hundred years
lived in ignorance and unrestrained
is living one day if a person is wise and contemplative.

Better than a hundred years
lived in idleness and weakness
is living one day if a person courageously makes effort.

Better than a hundred years
of not perceiving how things arise and pass away
is living one day if a person
does perceive how things arise and pass away.

Better than a hundred years
of not perceiving immortality
is living one day if a person does perceive immortality.

Better than a hundred years
of not seeing the supreme path
is living one day if a person does see the supreme path.

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Self – Gautam Buddha

Gautam Buddha

Gautam Buddha 563 BCE – 480 BC

If a person holds oneself dear,
let one watch oneself carefully.
The wise should be watchful
during at least one of the three watches.

Let each person first direct oneself to what is right;
then let one teach others; thus the wise will not suffer.
If a person makes oneself as one teaches others to be,
then being well-controlled, that one might guide others,
since self-control is difficult.

Self is the master of self;
who else could be the master?
With self well-controlled
a person finds a master such as few can find.

The wrong done by oneself, born of oneself,
produced by oneself, crushes the fool,
just as a diamond breaks even a precious stone.
The one whose vice is great brings oneself down
to that condition where one’s enemy wishes one to be,
just as a creeper overpowers the entangled sala tree.
Bad actions and actions harmful to ourselves are easy to do;
what is beneficial and good, that is very difficult to do.

The fool who scorns the teaching of the saintly,
the noble, and the virtuous, and follows wrong ideas,
bears fruit to one’s own destruction,
like the fruits of the katthaka reed.

By oneself is wrong done; by oneself one suffers;
by oneself is wrong left undone; by oneself is one purified.
Purity and impurity come from oneself;
no one can purify another.

Let no one neglect one’s own duty
for the sake of another’s, however great;
let a person after one has discerned one’s own duty,
be always attentive to this duty.

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Let’s Drink To Our Next Meeting – Hew Ainslie

Let’s drink to our next meeting, lads,
Nor think on what’s atwixt;
They’re fools wha spoil the present hour
By thinking on the next.

Then here’s to Meg o’ Morningside,
An Kate o’ Kittlemark;
The taen she drank her hose and shoon,
The tither pawned her sark.

A load o’ wealth, an’ wardly pelf,
They say is sair to bear;
Sae he’s a gowk would scrape an’ howk
To make his burden mair


Gif Care looks black the morn, lads,
As he’s come doon the lum,
Let’s ease our hearts by swearing, lads,
We never bade him come.


Then here’s to our next meeting, lads,
Ne’er think on what’s atwixt;
They’re fools who spoil the present hour
By thinking on the next.


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Morning Joy – Claude McKay

At night the wide and level stretch of wold,
Which at high noon had basked in quiet gold,
Far as the eye could see was ghostly white;
Dark was the night save for the snow’s weird light.

I drew the shades far down, crept into bed;
Hearing the cold wind moaning overhead
Through the sad pines, my soul, catching its pain,
Went sorrowing with it across the plain.

At dawn, behold! the pall of night was gone,
Save where a few shrubs melancholy, lone,
Detained a fragile shadow. Golden-lipped
The laughing grasses heaven’s sweet wine sipped.

The sun rose smiling o’er the river’s breast,
And my soul, by his happy spirit blest,
Soared like a bird to greet him in the sky,
And drew out of his heart Eternity.

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Joy – Carl Sandburg

Let a joy keep you.
Reach out your hands
And take it when it runs by,
As the Apache dancer
Clutches his woman.
I have seen them
Live long and laugh loud,
Sent on singing, singing,
Smashed to the heart
Under the ribs
With a terrible love.
Joy always,
Joy everywhere–
Let joy kill you!
Keep away from the little deaths.

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Butterfly Wings – Valerie Anderson

Butterfly wings.
Dancing, shimmering lights.
They are the northern lights
of the south during the day.

Beautiful lime green.
Flash and flutter.
Dancing upon the walls.
Making such a clutter.
Those butterfly wings.

A light periwinkle blue.
As blue as the ocean.
Mysterious as the moon.
Reminds me of that sky, full of clouds.
Those butterfly wings.

A deep blood red.
So vibrant and full of life.
A deep, swirling crimson.
So loyal and true.
Those butterfly wings.

A sparkling sunny yellow.
So bright and cheerful.
Almost like a lighter gold.
So friendly and caring.
Those butterfly wings.

Those wings hold character.
Opposites they hold as well as mystery.
So dark but light and sure.
Are those butterfly wings.

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Butterfly Laughter – Katherine Mansfield

In the middle of our porridge plates
There was a blue butterfly painted
And each morning we tried who should reach the
butterfly first.
Then the Grandmother said: “Do not eat the poor
That made us laugh.
Always she said it and always it started us laughing.
It seemed such a sweet little joke.
I was certain that one fine morning
The butterfly would fly out of our plates,
Laughing the teeniest laugh in the world,
And perch on the Grandmother’s lap.

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Lost – Farzana Hossain

I lost everything when i lost you.
I lost my life when i lost you.
I lost my senses when I find my self in a deep misery.
I lost my pride when I lost my potency of loving you.
I never stop my self to love you.
I apart my self from your loving thought.
I lost everything when I lost you.
I am lost in my own world.
I am looking at you in my blur eyes.
I know you will come to me.
And I will get everything I wanted.
I will not lose anything because you are not lost for me.
Your sweet and tender smile gives me the pleasure of this world.
It’s a gift from heaven when I will find you in my arm
But I just lost my way to get back to you.
I lost everything when I lost you.

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A Lost Love – Henry Francis Lyte

I meet thy pensive, moonlight face;
Thy thrilling voice I hear;
And former hours and scenes retrace,
Too fleeting, and too dear!

Then sighs and tears flow fast and free,
Though none is nigh to share;
And life has nought beside for me
So sweet as this despair.

There are crush’d hearts that will not break;
And mine, methinks, is one;
Or thus I should not weep and wake,
And thou to slumber gone.

I little thought it thus could be
In days more sad and fair
That earth could have a place for me,
And thou no longer there.

Yet death cannot our hearts divide,
Or make thee less my own:
Twere sweeter sleeping at thy side
Than watching here alone.

Yet never, never can we part,
While Memory holds her reign:
Thine, thine is still this wither’d heart,
Till we shall meet again.

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The Lost Leader – Robert Browning


Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat—
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allowed:
How all our copper had gone for his service!
Rags—were they purple, his heart had been proud!
We that had loved him so, followed him, honoured him,
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,
Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,
Made him our pattern to live and to die!
Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us,
Burns, Shelley, were with us,—they watch from their graves!
He alone breaks from the van and the free-men,
—He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves!


We shall march prospering,—not thro’ his presence;
Songs may inspirit us,—not from his lyre;
Deeds will be done,—while he boasts his quiescence,
Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
One task more declined, one more foot-path untrod,
One more devils’-triumph and sorrow for angels,
One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Life’s night begins: let him never come back to us!
There would be doubt, hesitation and pain,
Forced praise on our part—the glimmer of twilight,
Never glad confident morning again!
Best fight on well, for we taught him—strike gallantly,
Menace our heart ere we master his own;
Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!

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Racism – Nate Tulay

How racist is America,
where the Ku Klux Klan
can march her streets
protected by her police?

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Autumn – Kalidasa

HE autumn comes, a maiden fair
In slenderness and grace,
With nodding rice-stems in her hair
And lilies in her face.
In flowers of grasses she is clad;
And as she moves along,
Birds greet her with their cooing glad
Like bracelets’ tinkling song.

A diadem adorns the night
Of multitudinous stars;
Her silken robe is white moonlight,
Set free from cloudy bars;
And on her face (the radiant moon)
Bewitching smiles are shown:
She seems a slender maid, who soon
Will be a woman grown.

Over the rice-fields, laden plants
Are shivering to the breeze;
While in his brisk caresses dance
The blossomed-burdened trees;
He ruffles every lily-pond
Where blossoms kiss and part,
And stirs with lover’s fancies fond
The young man’s eager heart.

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I Know A Man – Yehuda Amichai

I know a man
who photographed the view he saw
from the window of the room where he made love
and not the face of the woman he loved there.

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God Full Of Mercy – Yehuda Amichai

God-Full-of-Mercy, the prayer for the dead.
If God was not full of mercy,
Mercy would have been in the world,
Not just in Him.
I, who plucked flowers in the hills
And looked down into all the valleys,
I, who brought corpses down from the hills,
Can tell you that the world is empty of mercy.
I, who was King of Salt at the seashore,
Who stood without a decision at my window,
Who counted the steps of angels,
Whose heart lifted weights of anguish
In the horrible contests.

I, who use only a small part
Of the words in the dictionary.

I, who must decipher riddles
I don’t want to decipher,
Know that if not for the God-full-of-mercy
There would be mercy in the world,
Not just in Him.

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Endless Poem – Yehuda Amichai

In a modern museum
In an old synagogue
In the synagogue
Within me
My heart
Within my heart
A museum
Within a museum
A synagogue
Within it
Within me
My heart
Within my heart
A museum

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Dalit – Suraj Bhandari

हामी बस्ने बस्तीहरूमा

हावा पनि डराई-डराई बग्दछ

सूर्यको किरण पनि

मन नलागी-नलागी खस्दछ

हामी बस्ने भूगोलको नजिक भएर

कुनै अक्षांश र देशान्तर रेखा पनि जाँदैन

कुनै जहाज र विमान पनि जाँदैन


सामाजिक भनिएको समाजले नै

बनाएका दलित हौँ हामी ।

हाम्रा आँगनमा फुल्ने गुराँसहरू

राष्ट्रिय फूल होइनन्

हाम्रा घरमा डुल्ने डाँफे

राष्ट्रिय पंक्षी होइनन्

हामीले पालेको गाई

राष्ट्रिय जनावर होइन

हामीले छोएको कपडाले

राष्ट्रिय झन्डा बन्दैन

हामीले फलाएको अक्षता

कुनै मन्दिरमा चढ्दैन

हाम्रो सयपत्रीले

कुनै देउता पुजिँदैन


सामाजिक भनिएको समाजले नै

बनाएका दलित हौँ हामी !

हाम्रा धमनी, हाम्रा सिराबाट

हाम्रो नसा-नसा भएर

लहु होइन, दलित बग्दछ

हाम्रो पसिनाको रंग दलित हो

हाम्रो रगतको रंग दलित हो

हामी रुँदा आखाबाट दलित खस्छ

हामी हाँस्दा ओठमा दलित बस्छ

हाम्रो शिरको जुम्रा,

हाम्रो पेटको जुका दलित नै त हो


सामाजिक भनिएको समाजले नै

बनाएका दलित हौँ हामी !

हामी दलितहरूको कण्ठबाट आएको

एउटै दबित आवाज छ

हजुर बेदलितहरूसमक्ष–

हरपल हामीभित्र दमाहा बजाइरहने

हाम्रो मुटु झिकेर लैजानुहोस्

र तपाईंको समाजको प्रयोगशालामा

परिक्षण गरेर बताउनुहोस्

के हामी दलित हौँ ?

होइनौं भने त केही भएन

परन्तु केही गरी हौँ भने

छर्किदिनुहोस् एक-एक अञ्जुली गंगाजल

तपाईं बेदलितहरूको कमण्डलुबाट

ताकि आइन्दा फेरि कसैले

हाम्रो घरमा दलित भएर जन्मनु नपरोस्

किन्तु तपाईंको गंगाजलले पनि

हामी चोखिएनौँ भने

कुन तीर्थको अमृतले

कुन गंगाको जलले चोखाउनुहुनेछ

हामीलाई छुँदा अशुद्ध भएकी

तपाईँकी गंगालाई ?

Source: http://www.baahrakhari.com

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The Beloved Comes Home – Mirabai

The one I longed for has come home;
The raging fire of separation is quenched.
Now I rejoice with Him, I sing in bliss.

The peacocks at the cloud’s roar
Dance with unbound joy;
I rejoice in ecstasy
At the sight of my Beloved.

I am absorbed in His love;
My misery of wandering
In the world has ended.
The lily bursts into bloom
At the sight of the full moon;
Seeing Him, my heart blossoms in joy.
Peace permeates this body of mine;
His arrival has filled my home with bliss.

That very Lord has become my own
Who is ever the redeemer of His devotees.
Mira’s heart, scorched by the blaze of separation,
Has become cool and refreshed;
The pain of duality has vanished.

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A Cowherding Girl – Mirabai

The plums tasted
sweet to the unlettered desert-tribe girl-
but what manners! To chew into each! She was ungainly,
low-caste, ill mannered and dirty,
but the god took the
fruit she’d been sucking.
Why? She’d knew how to love.
She might not distinquish
splendor from filth
but she’d tasted the nectar of passion.
Might not know any Veda,
but a chariot swept her away-
now she frolics in heaven, esctatically bound
to her god.
The Lord of Fallen Fools, says Mira,
will save anyone
who can practice rapture like that-
I myself in a previous birth
was a cowherding girl
at Gokul.

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A Great Yogi – Mirabai

In my travels I spent time with a great yogi.
Once he said to me.
“Become so still you hear the blood flowing
through your veins.”

One night as I sat in quiet,
I seemed on the verge of entering a world inside so vast
I know it is the source of
all of

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Hope Is Good Thing To Hope. – Kristina Riggs

I hope my family get a long like they use too
I hope God finds away to bring my brother
back from drugs
I hope my father stays in my life and don’t
take off life he did before when I was a baby
I hope before I am 30 years old I be marriage
and have family like my friends do
I hope my dreams I want out of life comes true
I hope me wanting to hope is not dumb
I hope is right thing to do in life
I hope I get in to college
I hope my mom finds good guy beside
I hope who I am with doesn’t hurt me
or break my heart like guys did with
my mom
I hope my brother leaves this girl that
keep him away from his family
I hope Amber will always be my best friend
I hope Rusty doesn’t every leave me
I hope God helps find away for us
to be together me and Rusty
I hope my family is happy
I hope my friends are happy and thankful
for what they have in life
I hope when Jennifer gets marriager it doesn’t
be life her last one ended bad
I hope everyone learns how good is to hope
and pray for things you need.
I hope everyone thankful and glad to be here
in this world.

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With Faith And Hope – Ernestine Northover

The tears fall, but no one’s there to heed them,
The heart it mourns, but no one sees the hurt.
An emptiness has seeped into the brainstem,
One’s feeling dazed, and no longer alert.

Such desolation haunts one’s whole persona,
What can one do, and just where can one go,
You feel as if you’ve now become a loner,
How droplets, when they’re prompted, freely flow.

To cry can be a painful kind of action,
One weeps for someone one has loved so well,
Yet grieving gives release, if just a fraction,
Which heals the ache and lets sadness dispel.

Only time will ease such utter sorrow,
That comes from losing someone Oh, so dear,
But with the dawning of each new tomorrow,
With faith and hope you’ll find a panacea.

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Song Of Hope – Thomas Hardy

O sweet To-morrow! –
After to-day
There will away
This sense of sorrow.
Then let us borrow
Hope, for a gleaming
Soon will be streaming,
Dimmed by no gray –
No gray!

While the winds wing us
Sighs from The Gone,
Nearer to dawn
Minute-beats bring us;
When there will sing us
Larks of a glory
Waiting our story
Further anon –

Doff the black token,
Don the red shoon,
Right and retune
Viol-strings broken;
Null the words spoken
In speeches of rueing,
The night cloud is hueing,
To-morrow shines soon –
Shines soon!

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All Hope – Bill Smith

All hope lies in tomorrow
Betrayed by yesterday
For every new horizon
There is a price to pay
The piper plays his tune
Holds out a hand for gilt
The memory cries a river
The wrong side of spilt milk

All hope lies in tomorrow
Forgetting yesterday
All hope is stored in thoughts
Arranged to form a play
There’s laughter and there’s intrigue
There’s sadness and there’s pain
Yet by the final act
Laughter rules again

All hope lies in tomorrow
Aphrodite by my side
To walk a brave new world
Athena as my guide
All hope lies in tomorrow
Under Helios’s light
To trust tomorrow to Themis
Her justice and her right

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Nightfall – Herbert Asquith

Hooded in angry mist, the sun goes down:
Steel-gray the clouds roll out across the sea:
Is this a Kingdom? Then give Death the crown,
For here no emperor hath won, save He.

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Sunset – Herbert Asquith

HOODED in angry mist, the sun goes down:
Steel-gray the clouds roll out across the Sea:
Is this a Kingdom? Then give Death the crown,
For here no emperor hath won, save He.

Though from the blackened grasses of the spring
The dead look up to where the swallow flies:
And in this woodland never a bird will sing-
The laughter lives within the sentry’s eyes.

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Khushi : Prapti Swikar – Gopal Upreti

हो त्यही क्षण, त्यही पलबाट

मैले जीवनलाई यस्तो सम्मोहनकारी,

आल्हाद्कारी रूपमा पाएँ ।

अब लाग्छ– जीवनप्रतिका तमाम गुनासाहरु

शनै: शनै: पखालिँदै छन्, धोइँदै छन्

वर्षातपछिको स्निग्ध बिहानीझैँ !

र, बदलामा उपहारस्वरूप प्राप्त गर्दै छु

एउटा नयाँ आलोक,

क्रमश: उद्भासित हुँदै गरेको नुतन स्वच्छता

उमंग, खुसी र अपरिमित शान्ति !

मृत्यु अब त्यस्तो निविड रहेन,

अँध्यारो, अनेकन डरलाग्दा रहस्यहरुको भण्डार !

त्यो पल, त्यो क्षण

जब जीवन वर्तमानको खुसी भएर आइदियो,

जब जीवन क्षणजीवी भएर आइदियो

जब जीवनले प्रत्येक पल, प्रत्येक क्षण;

जीवनका तमाम् रंगहरूले,

बाँच्नुको सार्थकता निथ्रुक्कै भिजाइदियो,

मृत्यु सपनामा मुस्कुराउँदै अनायास विस्मृत बनिदियो !

जन्म र मृत्युका नियमित आकस्मिकताहरू,

अवच्छिन्न छन्

सतत छन्

यो शुरुवात हैन

र, सायद अन्त्य पनि !

तिम्रो कथित मृत्युपश्चात् पनि सूर्यास्त हुन्छ,

सूर्योदय हुन्छ,

वर्षात त्यसैगरी रिमझिम सिमसिम गरिरहन्छ

फूलहरुले आफूलाई त्यसरी नै फुलाउनेछन्

मन्द-मन्द वतासका झोंकाहरू

त्यसरी नै नाच्दै लहराउनेछन्

जीवनका यी तमाम् आयामहरू

रोमाञ्च सिर्जना गर्दै जबदेखि

मेरो वरिपरि लडीबुडी गर्न लागे

हो, त्यहीँदेखि, त्यही क्षण

जीवनलाई यति आल्हाद्कारी

जादुयी रूपमा फेरि, पुन: प्राप्त गरेँ ।


Source – http://www.baahrakhari.com

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विकास – बिम्मी शर्मा

म हुँ विकास !

गर्छन् सबैले ममाथि धेरै आश

सरकारले बजाउने बिगुल हुँ म

तर कठै !

‘बहिरा’ जनताले सुन्न पाउँदैनन्

संगीतमा चल्ने मेरो सास !

जब देशमा चुनावी लहर आउँछ,

मलाई दसैं आएझैं हुन्छ ।

सबै पार्टीका घोषणापत्रमा

म हिरो बनाइन्छु

हरेक वर्ष बजेटको झाँकीमा म सजिन्छु

र झुन्डिन्छु सबैको थुतुनोमा

कुनै नयाँ चलचित्रको गीतझैं !

तर, पिँजडाको सुगाझैं

मलाई फाइलभित्रै कुहाइन्छ

मुसा र साङ्लाले हरेक वर्ष

खान्छन् मलाई मुख मिठ्याएर

हरेक वर्ष पुल-पुलेसा, सडक

र, भवनको सपना देखाउँदै

मलाई नयाँ दुलहीझैं भित्र्याउने

योजना बनाइन्छ

तर, वर्षौंदेखि बाँझोपनको आरोप खेपेर

आफ्नो पेट अठ्याउँदै

अर्काको सन्तान हेरेर रुन बाध्य महिलाझैं

म पनि जनताको सपना र चाहनामै हराउँछु ।

हो ! असारको खहरे भेल हुँ म

सडकमा जताततै छताछुल्ल हुन्छु

बर्खा सकिनेबित्तिकै मरुभूमिमा

परिणत हुनुपर्ने मेरो नियति

र मृगतृष्णाझैं सुसेलिने मेरो चाहना

खोलाको बगर भएर सुक्दछ ।

म हुँ विकास

सबै गर्छन् मसँग आश

तर, छैन ममा कुनै उज्यालो प्रकाश !

Source – http://www.baahrakhari.com

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Surakshakarmiko Saato (सुरक्षाकर्मीको सातो)

माओवादी सशस्त्र विद्रोह कालमा भएका मानवताविरुद्धको जघन्य अपराधमा छानबिन र कारबाही विस्तृत शान्ति सम्झौताको एउटा बुँदामात्र हैन शान्ति प्रक्रियाकै अभिन्न अंग पनि हो । त्यस प्रक्रियामा नेपालको अन्तर्राष्ट्रिय सम्बन्ध र साख पनि जोडिएको हुन्छ । राज्यले यही कारणले शान्ति सम्झौता भएको एक दशक पुग्न लागे पनि बेपत्ता पारिएका व्यक्तिको छानबिन आयोग र सत्य निरुपण तथा मेलमिलाप आयोग गठन गरेर शान्ति प्रक्रियाको अन्तिम चरणमा प्रवेश गर्न उचित ठानेको हुनुपर्छ ।

हुनत, यी दुवै आयोगहरू २०६३ मंसिरको ६ महिनाभित्रै गठन भइसक्नुपर्थ्यो । त्यति बेला गठन गरेको भए संक्रमणकालीन न्याय धेरै सहज पनि हुन्थ्यो । तर, नेपालको अन्तरिम संविधान, २०६३ को अंग बनाइएको विस्तृत शान्ति सम्झौता कार्यान्वयनका क्रममा एउटा पक्ष माओवादीले न्यायभन्दा पैसामा जोड दियो । अर्को पक्षका लागि त्यस सम्झौताको उपादेयता र अर्थ माओवादी हिंसाको अन्त्यबाहेक अरू केही थिएन । संविधान सभाको निर्वाचन गरेर नेपालको पहिलो राष्ट्रपति हुन हतारिएका गिरिजाप्रसाद कोइरालाले माओवादीप्रति ‘तुष्टीकरण’को नीति अपनाए । माओवादीका हातमा बन्दुक हुँदाहुँदै हतारमा गरिएको निर्वाचनमा स्वाभाविकरूपमा माओवादी संविधान सभाको सबैभन्दा ठूलो शक्ति भयो । पहिलो संविधान सभाको चार वर्षे कार्यकालमा ४ जना कम्युनिस्ट नेता प्रधानमन्त्री भए । पटकैपिच्छे माओवादी नेता कार्यकर्ताले अनेकौं बहानामा राज्यको ढुकुटी दोहन गरे । तर, सत्य निरुपण र बेपत्ता पारिएका व्यक्ति छानबिन कार्य अर्थात् संक्रमणकालीन न्याय कहिल्यै माओवादीको प्राथमिकतामा परेन । उनीहरू अपराधमा सोलोडोलो उन्मुक्ति र राज्यको ढुकुटीबाट सकेसम्म धेरै दोहन गर्न चाहन्थे । राज्यको ढुकुटीबाट दोहन गर्ने कार्य कहिलेसम्म चलिरहने हो थाहा छैन तर मानवताविरुद्धको अपराध अन्तर्राष्ट्रिय क्षेत्राधिकारमा पनि पर्ने हुनाले सबै अपराधीलाई एउटै निर्णयबाट सोलोडोलो उन्मुक्ति भने नेपालको संविधानमै लेखेको भए पनि सम्भव थिएन । अब त संविधानले पनि न्याय प्रत्याभूत गरेको छ । यसैले अन्तर्राष्ट्रिय प्रावधानविपरीत सोलोडोलो उन्मुक्ति दिलाउन सक्ने सम्बन्धित कानुनका दफालाई सर्वोच्च अदालतले खारेज गरिदिएको हुनुपर्छ । संक्रमणकालीन न्यायप्रति माओवादी वा अरू कुनै पार्टीको चासो हुँदो हो त राजनीतिक दलहरूले कानुनलाई अन्तर्राष्ट्रिय स्तरको बनाउन प्राथमिकता दिने थिए । प्रमुख विपक्षी नेपाली कांग्रेसका नेतालाई सायद सत्ताबाहेक अरू विषयले खासै छुँदैन । कम्युनिस्टहरूको कुरै भएन । उनीहरूबीचको पछिल्लो नौ बुँदे सहमतिमा संक्रमणकालीन न्यायको हत्या गर्ने र अपराध लुकाउन पैसा छर्ने नियत स्पष्टै देखिन्छ ।

सत्य निरुपण तथा मेलमिलाप र बेपत्ता पारिएका व्यक्तिको छानबिन आयोगको गठन स्वयं विवाद मुक्त नरहे पनि कम्तीमा न्याय सम्पादनको बाटो खुलेको ठानेर मानव अधिकार समुदायलगायत न्यायका पक्षधरहरूले समर्थन गरेका थिए । आयोगको कामकारबाही अपेक्षाकृत सन्तोषजनक नभए पनि अहिलेसम्म नियतवश न्याय खोस्न खोजेको आरोप दुवै आयोगमाथि लागेको छैन । यद्यपि, द्वन्द्व पीडित साझा चौतारी नामक संस्थाले गत जेठ २७ गते सार्वजनिक गरेको सत्य निरुपण तथा मेलमिलाप आयोग र बेपत्ता पारिएका व्यक्तिको छानबिन आयोगको उजुरी प्रक्रियाको अनुगमन गरी निकालेको निष्कर्ष र त्यसलाई विश्वसनीय बनाउन गरेको सिफारिस हेर्दा भने आयोगको कार्यशैलीमा तत्काल र ठूलै सुधार नहुने हो भने संक्रमणकालीन न्याय झन् जटिल अवस्थामा पुग्ने देखिन्छ ।

संक्रमणकालीन न्याय टुंगोमा पुग्न न्याय हुनु जरुरी हुन्छ । मानवताविरुद्धका जघन्य अपराधमा सही छानबिन, अपराधीलाई कानुनबमोजिम कारबाहीको सिफारिस र कार्यान्वयन नहुँदासम्म यो प्रक्रिया समाप्त हुँदैन । यसबीच राष्ट्रिय मानव अधिकार आयोगले अनुगमन गरेर कारबाहीका लागि गरेको सिफारिस र अदालतबाट कसुरदार ठहर गरी दिइएको सजाय तथा अदालतमा विचाराधीन मुद्दा पनि संक्रमणकालीन न्यायकै एउटा पक्षका रूपमा रहेका छन् । यी सबै टुंगोमा पुगेपछि मात्र संक्रमणकालीन न्यायको प्रक्रिया पूरा हुन्छ । तर, सुरक्षा निकायसँग सम्बद्ध केही व्यक्ति र लगभग सबै माओवादी घटकका नेता भने यस प्रक्रियालाई विधिवत् निकासमा पुग्न नदिई सामसुम पार्न खोज्दैछन् । देशभित्रको सक्षम र स्वतन्त्र न्यायालयले न्यायिक प्रक्रिया पूरा गरेर निर्णय गरेमा अन्तर्राष्ट्रिय समुदायले अस्वीकार गर्दैन । माओवादी नेताहरूले भन्ने गरेजस्तो न्याय खोज्ने काममा लागेकाहरू प्रतिक्रियावादी तत्त्व वा साम्राज्यवादका दलाल हैनन् । जघन्य अपराधका मुद्दामा लटरपटर गर्न खोजिएमा देशभित्रका द्वन्द्वपीडित, मानव अधिकार समुदायमात्र हैन अन्तर्राष्ट्रिय समुदाय पनि तमासामात्र हेरेर बस्दैनन् । विवेकसम्मत आधारमा न्यायिक प्रक्रिया टुंग्याउन सकेमात्र यस्तो विषयमा बाह्य हस्तक्षेपबाट जोगिन सकिन्छ ।

माओवादी नेताहरूको प्रचारवाजी अब सुरक्षाकर्मीलाई तर्साउन केन्द्रित हुन थालेको देखिएको छ । राज्यका सुरक्षाकर्मीका हकमा संसारभर स्पष्ट देखिएको छ – कर्तव्य पालन गर्दा भएका घटनामा हैन व्यक्ति विशेषले बदनियतपूर्वक गरेको अपराधमा मात्र कारबाही हुन्छ । अर्थात्, प्रचलित कानुन पालना गराउँदा वा आदेश पालना गर्दा भएका घटनामा सुरक्षाकर्मीको संलग्नतालाई अक्षम्य अपराध मानिदैन । अनावश्यक र अनुचित बलप्रयोग वा वैयक्तिक पूर्वाग्रह राखेर बेपत्ता पार्ने, मार्ने वा यातना दिने काम गरेका भएमात्र निज दोषी ठहरिन्छ । यसैले नियतवश कानुन उल्लंघन गरेर हत्याजस्ता जघन्य अपराध गर्नेहरूबाहेक अरू सुरक्षाकर्मी पटक्कै आत्तिनु पर्दैन । कर्तव्य पालनका सिलसिलामा भएका घटनामा सुरक्षाकर्मीलाई सजाय होस् भन्ने माग पीडितहरूको समेत छैन र हुनु पिन हुँदैन । उदाहरणका लागि बन्दुक बोकेको छापामार मुठभेडका क्रममा सुरक्षाकर्मीका हातबाट मारिएको भए त्यो घटना कर्तव्य पालनका सिलसिलामा भएको मानिन्छ । तर, त्यही छापामार हिरासतमा मारिएको भए त्यो आयोगको क्षेत्राधिकारभित्रको मुद्दा हो र कारबाही हुनुपर्ने घटना हो । यसैले द्वन्द्वमा संलग्न हुँदैमा सबै सुरक्षाकर्मी आत्तिनु पर्दैन । कसैले आफ्नै संगठन, प्रचलित ऐनकानुन, सुरक्षाकर्मीको धर्म, मूल्य र मान्यताविपरीत ज्यादती गरेको रहेछ भने त सजाय भोग्नुको विकल्प छैन । यस्तै, संविधानले ज्यान सजाय निषेध गरेका बेलामा माओवादी नेताहरूको ‘टाउकोको मूल्य’ तोक्ने र सार्वजनिकरूपमा टाउको ल्याउन आह्वान गर्नेहरू पनि सम्भवतः सजायबाट उम्कन सक्तैनन् । तर, यसका लागि सुरक्षाकर्मी हैन राजनीतिक नेतृत्व जिम्मेवार छ ।

माओवादी नेता कार्यकर्ता पनि सबै जना कैदमा पक्कै पर्नेछैनन् । ब्यारेक वा चौकीमा आक्रमण गर्नेहरूमाथि मुद्दा चलाउने माग कतैबाट पनि भएको छैन । तर विद्यालयमा पढाउँदै गरेको शिक्षक वा बाबुको किरियामा बसेको व्यक्तिमाथि आक्रमण गरेर हत्या गर्नेहरू उम्किन वा उम्काउन गरिने प्रयास सफल हुनेछैन । माओवादीले निहत्था उनीहरूको राजनीतिक विरोधी र धेरै त राजनीतिमा प्रत्यक्ष संलग्नता नै नभएका व्यक्ति मार्ने र बेपत्ता पार्ने काम गरेका छन् । छानबिन र सत्य निरुपण भएमा त्यस्ता अपराधमा संलग्न सबै नै सजायको भागी बन्नेछन् । मानवताविरुद्ध अपराध गर्ने केही नेता कार्यकर्ताले पाउने सजायलाई सामान्यीकरण गरेर संक्रमणकालीन न्यायलाई शान्ति प्रक्रिया विरोधी षड्यन्त्रका रूपमा प्रचार गर्ने गराउनेहरूको भ्रमजालबाट माओवादी कार्यकर्ता पनि बाहिर निस्कनुपर्छ ।

पीडितले माफी दिएमा कतिपय घटनामा मेलमिलाप हुनसक्छ । तर, त्यसकै लागि पनि पहिले अपराधीले सत्य स्वीकार गर्नुपर्छ । सजाय काट्न थालेपछि मात्र कैद माफीमिनाहा हुनसक्छ । सर्वोच्च अदालतले सजाय सुनाउनेबित्तिकै कैदमा बसेका भए सायद बालकृष्ण ढुंगेल अहिले माफीमिनाहाको सूचीमा परिसकेका हुन्थे । पीडकलाई क्षमादान दिने नैतिक अधिकार पीडितको मात्र हुन्छ । यो सत्य सबैले आत्मसात गर्ने हो भने स्थिति धेरै सहज हुनेछ ।

जेहोस्, सुरक्षाकर्मीहरू माओवादीको प्रचारवाजीबाट तर्सनुपर्ने देखिँदैन । मानव अधिकार आयोगको सिफारिस वा अदालतको आदेश कतै कार्यान्वयन नगरी राखिएको भए बरु नियमबमोजिम विभागीय कारबाही प्रक्रिया अगाडि बढाउनु उचित हुनेछ । दक्षिण अफ्रिकाको जस्तो सत्य निरुपण हुन सकेको भए माफिका लागि उपयुक्त वातावरण पनि बन्नेथियो । तर, नेपालमा त सत्य निरुपणकै क्रममा रकमी जालझेल भएको देखियो । यही क्रममा सुरक्षाकर्मीको मनोबल कमजोर पार्न अनेकौं षड्यन्त्र र प्रचारवाजी गरिएको हुनुपर्छ । यसैले जघन्य अपराधमा व्यक्तिगतरूपमा संलग्नबाहेक सुरक्षाकर्मी आत्तिनु पर्ने देखिँदैन । सुरक्षाकर्मीलाई सरकारले पनि आन्तरिकरूपमा आश्वस्त बनाओस् । तिनको सातो जान दिनु हुँदैन । कर्तव्य पालन गर्नु संसारमा कहीँ पनि अपराध मानिदैन र त्यसमा सजाय पनि हुँदैन ।


Source – http://www.baahrakhari.com

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War – Charles Wagner

Where has the dreamer gone?
Off to war.
And his dreams?
He had to lay them aside.
Will he ever dream his dreams again?
Only after the war.
Will he win the war?
Only if he returns with new dreams.
When will the war end?
Then how can he ever return home?
Only when he stops fighting.
Who will survive the war?
No one at all.
What kind of war is it?
No one knows.
Who is the enemy?
He is

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War Torn – James Mills

Some remnant living in muscle memory
is pressed, dressed and polished each time
he marches, slowly now and with tired bones,
to the Legion for his Friday bingo.
His numbers, in all the years, haven’t shown
as ex-corporal caller turns the wheel
and the same bally jokes revolve and drop,
snipered, on the half-deaf, half-dead, half-full
hall of pensioners with fat pens
and luckless grins whose week’s entertainment
spins and tumbles. Someone checks. They groan.
He removes his specs sauntering barwards
for his first pint, shouts an old joke,
‘Hey, you barsteward’
takes the barkeeps wince for a smile.
He re-enlists each Friday, soldiering on,
wishing he might ‘fall-out’.

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War Song – John Davidson

In anguish we uplift
A new unhallowed song:
The race is to the swift;
The battle to the strong.

Of old it was ordained
That we, in packs like curs,
Some thirty million trained
And licensed murderers,

In crime should live and act,
If cunning folk say sooth
Who flay the naked fact
And carve the heart of truth.

The rulers cry aloud,
“We cannot cancel war,
The end and bloody shroud
Of wrongs the worst abhor,
And order’s swaddling band:
Know that relentless strife
Remains by sea and land
The holiest law of life.
From fear in every guise,
From sloth, from lust of pelf,
By war’s great sacrifice
The world redeems itself.
War is the source, the theme
Of art; the goal, the bent
And brilliant academe
Of noble sentiment;
The augury, the dawn
Of golden times of grace;
The true catholicon,
And blood-bath of the race.”

We thirty million trained
And licensed murderers,
Like zanies rigged, and chained
By drill and scourge and curse
In shackles of despair
We know not how to break —
What do we victims care
For art, what interest take
In things unseen, unheard?
Some diplomat no doubt
Will launch a heedless word,
And lurking war leap out!

We spell-bound armies then,
Huge brutes in dumb distress,
Machines compact of men
Who once had consciences,
Must trample harvests down —
Vineyard, and corn and oil;
Dismantle town by town,
Hamlet and homestead spoil
On each appointed path,
Till lust of havoc light
A blood-red blaze of wrath
In every frenzied sight.

In many a mountain pass,
Or meadow green and fresh,
Mass shall encounter mass
Of shuddering human flesh;
Opposing ordnance roar
Across the swaths of slain,
And blood in torrents pour
In vain — always in vain,
For war breeds war again!

The shameful dream is past,
The subtle maze untrod:
We recognise at last
That war is not of God.

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Spring And Winter – William Shakespeare

WHEN daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

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A Winter Day – Lucy Maud Montgomery


The air is silent save where stirs
A bugling breeze among the firs;
The virgin world in white array
Waits for the bridegroom kiss of day;
All heaven blooms rarely in the east
Where skies are silvery and fleeced,
And o’er the orient hills made glad
The morning comes in wonder clad;
Oh, ’tis a time most fit to see
How beautiful the dawn can be!


Wide, sparkling fields snow-vestured lie
Beneath a blue, unshadowed sky;
A glistening splendor crowns the woods
And bosky, whistling solitudes;
In hemlock glen and reedy mere
The tang of frost is sharp and clear;
Life hath a jollity and zest,
A poignancy made manifest;
Laughter and courage have their way
At noontide of a winter’s day.


Faint music rings in wold and dell,
The tinkling of a distant bell,
Where homestead lights with friendly glow
Glimmer across the drifted snow;
Beyond a valley dim and far
Lit by an occidental star,
Tall pines the marge of day beset
Like many a slender minaret,
Whence priest-like winds on crystal air
Summon the reverent world to prayer.

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Winter Night – Boris Pasternak

It snowed and snowed ,the whole world over,
Snow swept the world from end to end.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

As during summer midges swarm
To beat their wings against a flame
Out in the yard the snowflakes swarmed
To beat against the window pane

The blizzard sculptured on the glass
Designs of arrows and of whorls.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

Distorted shadows fell
Upon the lighted ceiling:
Shadows of crossed arms,of crossed legs-
Of crossed destiny.

Two tiny shoes fell to the floor
And thudded.
A candle on a nightstand shed wax tears
Upon a dress.

All things vanished within
The snowy murk-white,hoary.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

A corner draft fluttered the flame
And the white fever of temptation
Upswept its angel wings that cast
A cruciform shadow

It snowed hard throughout the month
Of February, and almost constantly
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.

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Butterflies And Football – Anita Atina

On a sunny day, that warmed the winter breeze
Running with laughter and children,
With butterflies flitting o’er bobbing heads,
Coyly swaying grass,
Smiling up to clear blue skies!

Little sparrows twitter startled,
From their gentle snooze in the shadows.
Happy shouts play pass, with stomping feet
Arms waving, jumping
This way, this way! And goallll! ! !

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Football Is Round – Louisa Dai

A shooting ball is swooshing;
People in globe are watching.
On a sudden
Hails of cheers, vales of tears.
At losers’ silence, winners’re proud
Football is round.

In the humming of vuvuzel
Behind yellow and red card
All pass in the eyes of eagle
Nothing is impossible.
Football is round
For entertaining goal.

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Football – Fred Babbin

With Apologies to Oliver Twist and everybody else.

Football, glorious football.
Don’t care what it looks like -.
Burned! Underdone! Crude!
Don’t care what those crooks like.
Just thinking of growing fat.-
Our senses go reeling.
One moment of knowing that
Full-up feeling from sitting on
the couch!
Football, glorious football!
What wouldn’t we give for
That extra bit more,
that’s all that we should live for.
Why should we be fated
to do nothing but brood
on football,
magical football,
wonderful football,
marvelous football,
fabulous football,
beautiful football,
glorious football!

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Song Of The Palace – Bai Juyi

Tears utmost gauze cloth dream not succeed
Night deep before palace press song sound
Red cheek not old favour first cut
Slant lean on smoke cover sit arrive brightness
Her handkerchief all soaked in tears, she cannot dream,
In deepest night before the palace voices sing.
Her rosy cheeks aren’t old, but first love has been cut,
Leaning, wreathed in smoke, she sits until the dawn.

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