Imagine With your open eyes The things That you let just pass You can actually Do Breath Live Hold close Just be with it And You really Are face to face With the Real ‘you’! ~ Nehal
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All articles filed in English Poetry
Forever : Nehal
Forever is beyond Me and You And why should I Go after Something Which I cannot Even comprehend! I want to be Happy, Loved, Calm, And At peace; Now. And I know For sure That ‘Now’ is endless! ~Nehal
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A Moment : Nehal
A moment Is a dew dropOn a flower petalMirroring the rising SunGlowing IlluminatingEternityWithin.~Nehal(Written in response to a prompt ‘Moment’ given by #Beth Kempton#wabisabi #poetrychallenge # dowhatyouloveforlife.com)
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Clouds : Nehal
We rise from the depths of our mindLike clouds…Travelling higher up In the mountains.We float, Striving to reach the Sun!~ Nehal
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Blackberry-Picking By Seamus Heaney
Blackberry-Picking Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it Leaving stains… ~ Seamus Heaney…
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Window : Forugh Farrokhzad
A window for seeing A window for hearing A window like a well that ends deep in the heart of the earth and opens out into this expanse of recurring blue kindness A window that overfills the tiny hands of loneliness with its nightly gift, the perfume of generous stars and from there one could…
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Conversation with an American Writer : Yevtushenko
Conversation with an American Writer “You’re a fearless young man—” they tell me… It’s not true. I’ve never been fearless. I’ve considered it unworthy, simply, to sink to my colleagues’ cowardice. I didn’t shake any sort of foundations. Laughed at the false and pompous, that’s all. Wrote–that’s all. Never wrote denunciations. And tried to say…
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Invocation : Raquel Lanceros
INVOCATION May that apparent calm called scepticism never riddle my heart. Let me escape from the numbness of cynicism from the impartiality of shrugged shoulders. Let me believe always in life let me believe always in infinite possibilities. Deceive me, song of the sirens confer a gleam of naivety! Epidermis, never resemble a frozen implacable…
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Mother Tongue: Nina Powels
source: scum-mag.com image source:Academy of New Zealand Literature
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I Understand This Light to Be My Home : Mai Der Vang
In the awareness, I am brought closer to my being from long before. In my awareness, there is only what I can take from the small spaces of knowing, an earnest ascendance imparted by way of transmissions from the grid, a voice calls out unbroken below and above as the aura of faraway light. There…
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Poems of Kabir : कबीर बानी
मन मस्त हुआ तब क्यों बोले। हीरा पायो गाँठ गठियायो, बार बार वाको क्यों खोले। हलकी थी तब चढ़ी तराजू, पूरी भई तब क्यों तोले। सुरत-कलारी भई मतवारी, मदवा पी गई बिन तोले।। हंसा पाये मानसरोवर, ताल तलैया क्यों डोले। तेरा साहब है घर माहीं, बाहर नैना क्यों खोले। कहैं कबीर सुनो भाई साधो, साहब…
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Blessing the Boats : Lucille Clifton
blessing the boats may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love your back may you open your eyes to water water waving forever and may you in your…
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The Child in Spring : Max Picard
Suddenly, the green appears on the trees—as ifThe green passed silently from one tree to another.Children suddenly appear out of the chinks.They throw their balls high up in the air. The child is like a little hill of silence.Children—little hills of silence—are scatteredEverywhere in the world of words.Birds Throw notes of their song like balls…
Read MoreDaily Musings : Yung Pueblo
The Beloved City
Originally posted on Borderless:
Poetry of Munir Momin, translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch Munir Momin is a contemporary Balochi poet widely cherished for his sublime art of poetry. Meticulously crafted images, linguistic finesse and profound aesthetic sense have earned him a distinguished place in Balochi literature. His poetry speaks through images, more than words.…
A Poem by e.h
Everything in flux and flow; The summer sun, the winter snow. Unfurl and bloom then wither, die. A cloudless day, a stormy sky. The new grows old, gives way to new, And inside me these seasons too. My branches bow to nature’s will, The next one: still. So I trust my storms will pass, In…
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Sappho
The Cyprian came to thy cradle, When thou wast little and small, And said to the nurse who rocked thee“ Fear not thou for the child: “She shall be kindly favoured, And fair and fashioned well, As befits the Lesbian maidens And those who are fated to love.” Hermes came to thy cradle, Resourceful,…
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Dreamers
Dreamers SOLDIERS are citizens of death’s grey land, Drawing no dividend from time’s tomorrows. In the great hour of destiny they stand, Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows. Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives. Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin They think of…
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Our Revolution Must Be Different…
Our Revolution Must Be Different… Warrior/Houngan we salute you Frail body Towering spirit it is a savagery/that you have known. Our Revolution must be different Limping wizard prophet of the tribe it is brutality/visited upon you Our Revolution must be different it is not it is not it is not enough’- to make a change…
Read MoreDaily musings : Zora Neale Hurston
Primordial Chaos : Li Sen
Primordial Chaos Time, so many cobblestones placed in wilderness, so much sand ground fine. How many stones, how much sand hidden out of sight? I have been looking for the book of incantations but it seems it has long since turned to ash. I have gazed into many eyes, all vague and absorbed. I once…
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Death in the evening : Miroslav Holub
Death in the evening High, high. Her last words wandered across the ceiling like clouds. The sideboard wept. The apron shivered as if covering an abyss. The end. The young ones had gone to bed. But towards midnight the dead woman got up, put out the candles (a pity to waste them), quickly mended the…
Read MoreThe Flood : Michaella Mintcheff
The Flood (English version) A woman flooded her man. It came about slowly. One day he glanced at her. She seeped through his eyes, a drop at a time, and in time she soaked his feet up to the ankles. Sitting in a thoughtful repose in his armchair, the man didn’t notice. Later she changed…
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Please Call Me by My True Names : Thich Nhat Hanh
To feel compassionate for all living beings is a first step towards living a spiritual life but to be able to forgive killers, assassins requires a heart as noble as Thich Nhat Hanh. Personally I was finding it difficult to forgive ghastly crimes and the criminals who carry out in cold blood till I read…
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A Poem by Tjawangwa Dema
Cadastral: The Black Girl Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Where are you from? No, I mean where are you really from? Go back where you came from? Is that your [insert child, insert hair, insert flag]? Why does everything have to be about race [translation – you. Why are you you? Why are you here?…
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Tree : Arundhathi Subramaniam
It takes a certain cussedness to be a tree in this city, a certain inflexible woodenness to dig in your heels and hold your own amid lamp-posts sleek as mannequins and buildings that hold sun and glass together with more will-power than cement, to continue that dated ritual, re-issuing a tireless maze of phalange and…
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Meer Taqi Meer मीर तक़ी मीर
इश्क़ में जी को सबरो-ताब कहां उससे आंखें लगें तो ख्वाब कहां हस्ती अपनी है बीच में पर्दा हम न होवें तो फिर हिजाब1कहां गिरिया-ए-शब2 से सुर्ख हैं आंखें मुझ बलानोश को शराब कहां इश्क़ है आशिक़ों के जलने को ये जहन्नुम3 में है अज़ाब4 कहां इश्क़ का घर है मीर से आबाद ऐसे फिर…
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Dogen
On the Treasury of the true Dharma Eye Midnight. No waves, no wind, the empty boat is flooded with moonlight. ~ Dogen (1200-1253)
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Shiki
House-bound in winter Turning to my books before Even washing my face ~Shiki (1867-1902)
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Tao : Lao-Tzu
Empty your mind of all thoughts. Let your heart be at peace. Watch the turmoil of beings, but contemplate their return. Each separate being in the universe returns to the common source. Returning to the source is serenity. If you don’t realize the source, you stumble in confusion and sorrow. When you realize where you…
Read MoreDaily Musings : Dylan Thomas
Christmas Bells : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men! And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, good-will to men! Till ringing, singing…
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change : Saima Afreen
Change The bucket swallows sweaters, a ball of yarn that bloomed in a mother’s lap, ripe, plum-like it dropped from her sari tumbling towards the kitchen sink full of colours, sparkling, bright, the day white, spills and swallows leaves near the doorstep, a few of her tears, run across her broken cheeks. The balance of dry…
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Better late than… It’s 7 years!
On the other side of the Rainbow… All my landscapes were grey With my eyes full of tears I looked at you Rays of your sunshine smile Falling gently on each of them And see the magic Me, my being…drenched in Raining rainbows! ~ Nehal This time it took longer than usual for me to…
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Gift : Czeslaw Milosz
Gift A day so happy. Fog lifted early, I worked in the garden. Hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers. There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess. I knew no one worth my envying him. Whatever evil I had suffered, I forgot. To think that once I was the same man did not…
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Migratory Birds : Nehal
These days My thoughts are like Migratory birds Visiting me from Far far away, unknown regions Fill the sky of my mind With their Beauty, sounds and movements of their wings And when they leave They leave without a trace Can’t keep them even in my memory And I start waiting For One more winter!…
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Elemental : John O’ Donohue
ELEMENTAL Is the word the work Of someone who tills the blue field, Unearths its dark plenitude For the tight seed to release its thought Into the ferment of clay, Searching to earth the light And come to voice in a word of grain That can sing free in the breeze, Bathe in the yellow…
Read MoreInward : Yung Pueblo
ask yourself often: am I observing the situation accurately or am i projecting how i feel onto what is happening? ~ Yung Pueblo (Inward)
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As Time Goes By : Donna Ashworth
As time goes by,You will loosen your grip on that rock,The one you always thought was home,And you will realise that home is not a place,It’s a state of mind. *Let it go* … As time goes by,You will learn to see yourself more clearly,The girl/ boy who was always too much of one thing,And…
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Bashō
* Look, so holy: green leaves young leaves in the light of the sun .. * The start of poetry: a rice-planting song in the interior .. * Pouring the hot sun into the sea, the Mogami River .. * From today on, erase the inscript, dew on my hat .. * As I sweep…
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Truth Serum : Naomi Shihab Nye
Truth Serum We made it from the ground-up corn in the old back pasture. Pinched a scent of night jasmine billowing off the fence, popped it right in. That frog song wanting nothing but echo? We used that. Stirred it widely. Noticed the clouds while stirring. Called upon our ancient great aunts and their long…
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Whenever You See a Tree : Padma Venkatraman
Whenever you see a tree Thinkhow many long yearsthis tree waited as a seedfor an animal or bird or wind or rainto maybe carry it to maybe the right spotwhere again it waited months for seasons to changeuntil time and temperature were fine enough to coax itto swell and burst its hard shell so it…
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Burning the Old Year: Naomi Shihab Nye
Burning the Old Year Letters swallow themselves in seconds. Notes friends tied to the doorknob, transparent scarlet paper, sizzle like moth wings, marry the air. So much of any year is flammable, lists of vegetables, partial poems. Orange swirling flame of days, so little is a stone. Where there was something and suddenly isn’t, an…
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Taha Muhammad Ali : Meeting at an Airport
Meeting at an Airport You asked me once, on our way back from the midmorning trip to the spring: “What do you hate, and who do you love?” And I answered, from behind the eyelashes of my surprise, my blood rushing like the shadow cast by a cloud of starlings: “I hate departure . .…
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A Voiceless Cry : Nadia Anjuman
A Voiceless Cry The sound of green footsteps is the rain They’re coming in from the road, now Thirsty souls and dusty skirts brought from the desert Their breath burning, mirage-mingled Mouths dry and caked with dust They’re coming in from the road, now Tormented-bodied, girls brought up on pain Joy departed from their faces…
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May Day : Sara Teasdale
May Day A delicate fabric of bird song Floats in the air,The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere. Red small leaves of the maple Are clenched like a hand,Like girls at their first communion The pear trees stand. Oh I must pass nothing by Without loving it much,The raindrop try with my lips, The grass with my touch; For how…
Read MoreDaily Motivation
source: The 3-2-1 Thursday newsletter by James Clear Author and anthropologist Carlos Castaneda on mindset: Source: Journey To Ixtlan: The Lessons of Don Juan
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Song Of A Dream : Sarojini Naidu
ONCE in the dream of a night I stood Lone in the light of a magical wood, Soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang; And spirits of Truth were the birds that sang, And spirits of Love were the stars that glowed, And spirits of Peace were the streams that flowed In that magical wood in…
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High tide : Jean S Untermeyer
High Tide I edged back against the night.The sea growled assault on the wave-bitten shore.And the breakers,Like young and impatient hounds,Sprang, with rough joy on the shrinking sand.Sprang, but were drawn back slowly,With a long, relentless pull,Whimpering into the dark. Then I saw who held them captive;And I saw how they were boundWith a broad…
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Summer In Calcutta : Kamala Das
…. Summer In Calcutta What is this drink butThe April sun, squeezedLike an orange inMy glass? I sip theFire, I drink and drinkAgain, I am drunkYes, but on the goldof suns, What noblevenom now flows throughmy veins and fills mymind with unhurriedlaughter? My worriesdoze. Wee bubbles ringmy glass, like a bride’snervous smile, and meetmy lips.…
Read MoreMonday Motivation
A Fish’s Wish : એક માછલીની મનીષા
A Fish’s Wish There was once a fishtired of the sea, oppressedleaped high, escapedfrom the prison of the sea. Saw first time the shorethe spaces so far! From the security of watersfrom its bothersbroke loose from barriers of fleshlanded writhing on the beachpining for waterfrom her burning breathher world was on fire. The fish of…
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Song For Silkworms And Grain
Every province and kingdom under heaven fronting on the Great Wall, no city has avoided shield and sword. Why can’t the weapons be cast into ploughshares, and every inch of abandoned field tilled by oxen? Tilled by oxen, spun by silkworms: don’t condemn heroes to weep like heavy rains, leave men to grain, women to…
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Unmarked Chambers : Saima Afreen
Tell me how do I carry your weight under my skin,inside my blood? Your storieslisten to the walls in Anna Karenina’s heart, the lightpoured out from her bones, they turn into glow wormscarrying the weight of stars. The night. Its scent. The tremor of beliefin those dark eyes where simoom waitsfor the map in your body to wake…
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Hard Life With Memory
Hard Life with Memory I’m a poor audience for my memory. She wants me to attend her voice non-stop, but I fidget, fuss, listen and don’t, step out, come back, then leave again. She wants all my time and attention. She’s got no problem when I sleep. The day’s a different matter, which upsets her.…
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False Notions, Fears, And Other Things Of Wood
False Notions, Fears, And Other Things Of Wood Repeatedly, that sturdy stump in mebears up like stone,beneath some ritual I see:the blinding axeswings up, holds,that moment of its weightlessnessinscrutabletill I confirm the arm is mine;I will it, grip,feel moist the swelling handle,the shudder rude,the difference fallen. Toward that chopping blockI carry in me woodthings—infectious undergrowthpretending…
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Song of the open door
Song of the open door When the beastly blizzards roar – angrily and often, there’s no need to lock the door, leave the door wide open. And if your road is stretching far, a grueling road, supposing, remember – leave your door ajar, don’t walk away and close it. And as you leave in calm…
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Love Song : Rainer Maria Rilke
LOVE SONG How shall I keep my soul from touching yours? How shall I lift it up beyond you to other things? Ah, I would gladly hide it in darkness with something lost in some silent foreign place that doesn’t tremble when your deeps stir. Yet whatever touches you and me blends us together…
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A Poem : Miguel Otero Silva
I heard splashing on the boat her bare feet And sensed in our faces the hungry dusk My heart swaying between her and the street, the road I don’t know where I found the strength to free myself from her eyes to slip from her arms She stayed, crying through rain and glass clouded with…
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There’s No Lamp in the World Tonight : Saima Afreen
There’s No Lamp in the World Tonight Darkness is a refugee in our shadows it’s a little child that wakes up in the middle of the night – remembering the rose chintz of my lamp and a milk jug my grandfather brought home from Germany during the World War underneath the rose-gold hue was written…
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शब्दों का दुःख : दुर्गा प्रसाद पंडा
शब्दों का दुःख आदमियों की तरहशब्दों के दुःखों की सूची भीख़ूब लंबी है। शब्दों में भी होती हैबहुत कुछ अनकही वेदनाइसीलिए आजकल शब्द सारेनज़र आते हैंनितांत असहाय और विषण्ण। भाव, अर्थ और संलाप के कोलाहल के बाहर रह करशायद वे भी जीना चाहते हैं,निजता और एकांत जीवन। सारा जीवन भावों का भार ढोते-ढोतेझुक कर चल…
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I am not I : Juan Ramón Jiménez
“I Am Not I” I am not I. I am this onewalking beside me whom I do not see,whom at times I manage to visit,and whom at other times I forget;who remains calm and silent while I talk,and forgives, gently, when I hate,who walks where I am not,who will remain standing when I die. ~Juan…
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Summer Silence : E. E. Cummings
Summer Silence Eruptive lightnings flutter to and froAbove the heights of immemorial hills;Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woeLimply down-sagging, its limp body spillsUpon the earth. A panting silence fillsThe empty vault of Night with shimmering barsOf sullen silver, where the lake distilsIts misered bounty.—Hark! No whisper marsThe utter silence of the untranslated stars. ~ E.…
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The Poet : Anuradha Bhattacharyya
We are like the stray line of a poem which always feels that it rhymes with another line, and must find it or miss its own fulfilment. ~Tagore The Poet A spiral is his heart, He goes down step by step, Plunging into abysses to bring up The really new, Not clever empty rearrangements Of…
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The Burning of The Books
The Burning of The Books When the Regime ordered that the books with dangerous teachings should be publicly burnt and everywhere Oxen were forced to draw carts full of books To the funeral pyre, an old poet, one of the best, Discovered with fury when he studied the list Of the burned, that his own…
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Words : Kamala Das
Words All round me are words, and words and words,They grow on me like leaves, they neverSeem to stop their slow growingFrom within… But I tell my self, wordsAre a nuisance, beware of them, theyCan be so many things, aChasm where running feet must pause, toLook, a sea with paralysing waves,A blast of burning air…
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Silver Linings…
Hello Readers, After venturing into art, yoga, meditation, micro-greens, plants… I was looking for some activity which we ( me and my daughters) can do together as a team. Also it should be interesting, involving some creativity and the end result should give instant gratification! You know what I mean! Our culinary journey was one…
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Painting silver linings…
Hi everyone, Learning a new hobby and nurturing it; is not merely distracting your mind away from current situation, but focusing and getting involved in something you love; allows you to distance yourself from all the negative things happening around you and you can examine them with more objectivity, calmness of mind. I have been…
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Painting my Silver Linings…
Painting silver linings over my clouds! Hello Readers, It’s been almost a year, since the Covid-19 pandemic started and lockdown was imposed. Initially we all thought it may not last long and in 2-3 months’ time everything will be back to normal but it turned out to be totally different. Unlike our earlier SARS encounters,…
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Poems (Vākhs) of Lal Děd
These Vākhs or verses are like visions during meditation or like realisation of the eternal Truth. Initially they were transmitted through centuries by oral tradition only. For further explanation of all such verses I would recommend you to read this beautiful book. I burnt up the landscape with footprints, looked for Him everywhere.Then it hit…
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The Hill We Climb : Amanda Gorman
The Hill We Climb When day comes, we ask ourselves where can we find light in this never-ending shade?The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.We’ve braved the belly of the beast.We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace,and the norms and notions of what “just” is isn’t always justice.And yet, the dawn is ours…
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“The Musician played the violin…”
“The Musician played the violin…” To I. Shwartz The musician played the violin — I was gazing at his eyes. It was not like I was prying — I was flying in the skies. It was not from merely boredom – but I yearned to understand how such sounds could be conjured by such simple…
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Choices : Nikki Giovani
Choices if i can’t dowhat i want to dothen my job is to notdo what i don’t wantto do it’s not the same thingbut it’s the best i cando if i can’t havewhat i want thenmy job is to wantwhat i’ve gotand be satisfiedthat at least thereis something moreto want since i can’t gowhere i…
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Stationery : Ali, Agha Shahid
Stationery The moon did not become the sun. It just fell on the desert in great sheets, reams of silver handmade by you. The night is your cottage industry now, the day is your brisk emporium. The world is full of paper. Write to me. ~Agha Shahid Ali ( From The Veiled Suite The Collected…
Read MoreFrom the Books… (The power of Nunchi)
Nunchi (noon-chee ) : ‘eye measure’, or the subtle art of gauging other people’s thoughts and feelings to build harmony, trust and connection. The unit of nunchi is the room. It has its own ‘temperature’, ‘barometric pressure’, volume, mood–and these are in constant flux. An intrinsic part of nunchi is the dimension of change: understand…
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An eternal beauty : Nehal
All my lifeI have been in search ofAn eternal beauty.Why should I seek it imperishable??Waves of the sea spread theirFrills and lace on the shoreEvery time they rush out and in….Foot steps on the desert sandCreate a beautiful patternOnly to be taken awayBy the wind the next moment.Drops of rain on the window paneThey sing,…
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Path of Light : Amina Saïd
I Love this poem so much that I wish to write it on one of the walls of my study room. I have lost the count how many times I have read it and every time I have found new meanings in it. Path of Light Where have you come from?From the other world.And…
Read MoreWhen You Love Yourself…#4~ Nehal
When You Love Yourself…#3~ Nehal
When You Love Yourself…#2~ Nehal
When You Love Yourself…#1 ~ Nehal
Allowables : Nikki Giovanni
I killed a spider Not a murderous brown recluse Not even a black widow And if the truth were told this Was only a small sort of papery spider Who should have run When I picked up the book But she didn’t And she scared me And I smashed her I don’t think I am…
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I Am Waiting : Lawrence Ferlinghetti
I Am Waiting I am waiting for my case to come up and I am waitingfor a rebirth of wonderand I am waiting for someoneto really discover Americaand wailand I am waiting for the discoveryof a new symbolic western frontier and I am waiting for the American Eagleto really spread its wingsand straighten up and fly rightand I am…
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Self Portrait : David Whyte
Self Portrait It doesn’t interest me if there is one Godor many gods.I want to know if you belong or feelabandoned.If you know despair or can see it in others.I want to knowif you are prepared to live in the worldwith its harsh needto change you. If you can look backwith firm eyessaying this is…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 101
Daily Musings : 100
The Stolen Branch : Pablo Neruda
The Stolen Branch In the night we shall go into steala flowering branch. We shall climb over the wallin the darkness of the alien garden,two shadows in the shadow. Winter is not yet gone,and the apple tree appearssuddenly changedinto a cascade of fragrant stars. In the night we shall go inup to its trembling firmament,and…
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सिर्फ तुम्हारे लिए… सिमोन : शुभम श्री
सिर्फ तुम्हारे लिए… सिमोन (4) जानती हो सिमोन, मैं अकसर सोचती हूँसोचती क्या, चाहती हूँ पहुँचाऊँकुछ प्रतियाँ ‘द सेकंड सेक्स’ की उन तक नहींजो अपना ब्लॉग अपडेट कर रही हैं मीटिंग की जल्दी में हैंबहस में मशगूल हैं ‘सोचनेवाली औरतों’ तक नहीं उन तक जो एक अदद दूल्हा खरीदे जाने के इंतजारमें बैठी हैंकई साल…
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Home : Arundhathi Subramaniam
Home Give me a home that isn’t mine, where I can slip in and out of rooms without a trace, never worrying about the plumbing, the colour of the curtains, the cacophony of books by the bedside. A home that I can wear lightly, where the rooms aren’t clogged with yesterday’s conversations, where the self…
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A Sea of Foliage Girds our Garden round
A Sea of Foliage Girds our Garden round Sonnet.- Baugmaree A sea of foliage girds our garden round, But not a sea of dull unvaried green, Sharp contrasts of all colors here are seen; The light-green graceful tamarinds abound Amid the mango clumps of green profound, And palms arise, like pillars gray, between; And o’er…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 90
source : Where I Live : New & Selected Poems
Read MoreDaily Musings : 89
Translator’s Note: Padmanabha: Lord Vishnu from whose navel the lotus flower is believed to emerge source : poetryinternational.org
Read MoreDaily Musings : 88
Daily Musings : 87
Poems : Tialila Kikon
source : thenagarepublic.com Image source : google images
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उषा : Daybreak
उषा प्रात: नभ था बहुत नीला शंख जैसे भोर का नभ; राख से लीपा हुआ चौका; अभी गीला पड़ा है बहुत काली सिल ज़रा से लाल केसर से कि जैसे धुल गई हो स्लेट पर या लाल खड़िया चाक मल दी हो किसी ने नील जल में या किसी की गौर झिलमिल देह जैसे हिल…
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Gift : Rabindranath Tagore
Gift O my love, what gift of mine Shall I give you this dawn? A morning song? But morning does not last long – The heat of the sun Wilts it like a flower And songs that tire Are done. O friend, when you come to my gate At dusk What is it you ask?…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 78
Digital artwork by Nehal
Read MoreDaily Musings : 77
Digital artwork by Nehal
Read MoreDaily Musings : 76
Digital artwork by Nehal
Read MoreDaily Musings : 75
Digital artwork by Nehal
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Megan Married Herself : Caroline Bird
Megan Married Herself She arrived at the country mansion in a silver limousine.She’d sent out invitations and everything:her name written twice with “&” in the middle,the calligraphy of coupling.She strode down the aisle to “At Last” by Etta James,faced the celebrant like a keen soldier reporting for duty,her voice shaky yet sure. I do. I…
Read MoreWhat The Mapmaker Ought To Know : Kei Miller
What The Mapmaker Ought To Know On this island things fidget.Even history.The landscape does not sitwillinglyas if behind an easelholding posewaiting onsomeoneto pencilits lines, composeits best featuresor unruly contours.Landmarks shift,become unfixedby earthquakeby landslideby utter spite.Whole places will slipout from your grip. ~ Kei Miller © 2015, Kei MillerFrom: The Cartographer Tries to Map a Way to ZionPublisher:…
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Daily Musings : 73
Daily Musings : 72
Daily Musings : 71
For The Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio, excerpts.
Excerpts from the Poem : IIINarrator Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes —Some have got broken — and carrying them up to the attic.The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,And the children got ready for school. There are enoughLeft-overs…
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Ring out, wild bells : Alfred Lord Tennyson
Wish you all A Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! ~ Nehal In Memoriam, [Ring out, wild bells] Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night;Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the…
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Daily Musings : 68
Daily Musings : 67
Poems : Bing Xin
Infinite Stars The infinite stars are twinkling—The dark blue sky,Why have I never heard their whispers?In the tranquility,And in the eclipsed light,They express their encomiums sincerely … Human beings!Learn to love each other,We are all travelers on the long voyageTo the same destination. … My friends!Why do you think me taciturn?There is something in the…
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Stones : David Wagoner
Stones I bring them from the mountains,from the sea, from the edgeof streams and look at them,heft them, hold them hardwhile they keep holding themselvesharder. Is it becausethey haven’t had to changetheir surfaces in our timethough, in theirs, they’ve sufferedthe blunt demands of iceand water and wind and godknows fire, been cracked and frozen,thawed, made…
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Autumn Summary : Julio Cortázar
AUTUMN SUMMARY In evening’s dome each bird is a point of memory.It’s amazing sometimes how the years’ fervorreturns, returns without a body, returns for no reason at all,how beauty, so brief in its violent love,saves us an echo as night falls. And so, what can you do but stand there slack-armed,your heart overloaded and that…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 55
Woman with Eyes Wide Open : Alejandra Pizarnik
Woman with Eyes Wide Open life plays in the plaza with the self I never was and here I am my thoughts dance on the tightrope of my smile and everyone says this happened and is happening happening my heart opens the window life here I am my life my lone numbed blood resonates in…
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The Snail : Souvankham Thammavongsa
The Snail sets . what it knows of this . inelegant world, outside . and quietly folds . …
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A Prayer at the Bridge between the Centuries
A Prayer at the Bridge between the Centuries War is consigned to history Disaster to memory The scars and tears form a natural screen In a drizzle A rainbow appears like a bridge between the centuries At the end and the beginning of time Separating past and future Now it is Dusk at century’s end…
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A poem : Claire Conroy
“Tell me, what else should I have done?” – (This line is from a poem by Mary Oliver). “Tell me, what else should I have done?” Not come that day? Phone up and say ‘I am not well?’ And lie – not speak my truth that way? But I did come! . . . Though feeling…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 49 Bob Dylan
Daily Musings : 48 Sara Teasdale
Music : Ralph Waldo Emerson
MUSIC Let me go where’er I will,I hear a sky-born music still:It sounds from all things old,It sounds from all things young,From all that’s fair, from all that’s foul,Peals out a cheerful song. It is not only in the rose,It is not only in the bird,Not only where the rainbow glows,Nor in the song of…
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Middle Class Blues : मध्यम वर्ग का गाना
Middle Class Blues We can’t complain.We’re not out of work.We don’t go hungry.We eat.The grass grows,the social product,the fingernail,the past.The streets are empty.The deals are closed.The sirens are silent.All that will pass.The dead have made their wills.The rain’s become a drizzle.The war’s not yet been declared.There’s no hurry for that.We eat the grass.We eat the…
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Everything Is Going To Be All Right : Derek Mahon
Everything Is Going To Be All Right How should I not be glad to contemplate the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window and a high tide reflected on the ceiling? There will be dying, there will be dying, but there is no need to go into that. The lines flow from the hand unbidden and…
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A Song For Those Who Know
A Song For Those Who Know Something must be done right awaythat much we knowbut of course it’s too soon to actbut of course it’s too late in the dayoh we knowwe know that we’re really rather well offand that we’ll go on like thisand that it’s not much use anywayoh we knowwe know that…
Read More‘inmymindinmyheart’ ના ૬ વર્ષ…
તમારા સૌનો ખૂૂબ ખૂબ આભાર, આ સફરમાં સાથે રહેવા માટે. વિઝીટ, વ્યૂ, લાઈક, કમેન્ટ…બધ્ધું જ આવકાર્ય છે, અહીં આવતા રહેજો, લખતા રહેજો. 🙂 ❤ હું જે વાંચું છું, ઑનલાઈન, પુસ્તકોમાં, બીજા બ્લૉગ્સ પર એ બધું મારા મનમાં જાતજાતની અસર ઊભી કરે છે અને કોઈ નવા જ સ્વરૂપે મારા હ્રદયમાંથી ઉદભવે છે. આ બ્લૉગ એ બધી…
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Wind-Up Doll : Forugh Farrokhzad
Wind-Up Doll Even more, oh yes,one can remain silent even more. Inside eternal hoursone can fix lifeless eyeson the smoke of a cigarette,on a cup’s form,the carpet’s faded flowers,or on imaginary writings on the wall. With stiff claws one can whisk the curtains aside, look outside. It’s streaming rain. A child with a balloon bouquet cowers beneath a canopy.…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 34 Bertolt Brecht
Six years of sharing what is ‘inmymindinmyheart’
I wanted to share with you all my feelings of gratitude as my blog completes six years. It is because of your visits, likes, comments I feel energised and inspired to continue further. Thanks a lot! ~Nehal During this long journey of six years many times I have thought that I should post poems, ghazals,…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 33 Bertolt Brecht
Daily Musings : 30 Rainer Maria Rilke
Digital artwork by Nehal
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Orientation : Nehal
I am hereIn me, sometimes.I speakmyself, sometimes.I see in the mirrorMy face, sometimes.I walk on the grassOf this planet, sometimes.I breath – in this earthIn my dreams, sometimes.I float I flyI rainI sprout I growI fallLike a star, sometimes.I come I goI touch the shores of life,Sometimes.The words that I write I singI read I…
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I Will Greet The Sun Again
I Will Greet The Sun Again I am sending-my warmest greetings to the sun,and to the tender rivers that streamed in my veins,and to the raining clouds that forever carried- my endless dreams-to the other side. Also,my greetings go-to the poplar trees in the yard-and their sore but graceful aging-under the comes and goes of…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 26 Forugh Farrokhzad
How you lost yourself
How you lost yourself Hey, you.yes you.Wake up! Where have you been, all this while?Staring away at screens, your conscience turning fragileDo you even remember the last time whensomeone looked into your eyes and gave you a genuine, warm smile?Amidst the endless shooting colors and the lightpixels flashing from the device you hold so tightyou’re…
Read MoreDaily Musings : 25 Luise Glück
Daily Musings : 24 Sara Teasdale
Daily Musings : 23 Muriel Rukeyser
Daily Musings : 22 George Sand
Daily Musings : 21 Anaïs Nin
The Passionate Sword : Jean Starr Untermeyer
The Passionate Sword Temper my spirit, oh Lord, Burn out its alloy, And make it a pliant steel for thy wielding, Not a clumsy toy, A blunt, iron thing in my hands That blunder and destroy. Temper my spirit, oh Lord, Keep it long in the fire; Make it one with the flame. Let it share That up-reaching desire. Grasp it thyself, oh…
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On the Passage of Days : Anuradha Bhattacharya
On the Passage of Days Events follow events In close succession Time is A heavily knotted string, Swift and dangerous, It moves, hurting me And scarring my grand Memories for the future. Events follow events In close succession. They are Pebbles on the sea shore, Driven to and fro, Roaring and grating And tearing the…
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Nehal's World 