Mittwoch, März 14, 2007

Life is poetry, love is...love poetry

Don't worry if the title of this post isn't making much sense to you - it's past 3am, as I'm having myself a nightshift - I need to hand in this paper by 12am today, and only started writing last evening, ie, about 5 hours ago. That's me, superorganised. :P

Anyway, I just found this beautiful poem by e.e.cummings and thought I would let the world know.
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 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)

I also found a different one by a woman poet on my professor's handout for the lecture today, but forgot to take my copy home - it was so beautiful it gave me the shivers. Luckily I just found it online. It's was written by Christina Rossetti some time during the Victorian Age.

When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree.
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on as if in pain.
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.

And then there is what U2 say, and their words should not be forgotten either: Love, she moves in mysterious ways.
Aye, she does.
:)

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