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…

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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.…

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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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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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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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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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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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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…

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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.…

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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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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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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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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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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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From 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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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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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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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…

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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?…

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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…

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What 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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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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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…

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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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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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‘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.…

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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,…

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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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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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सृजन का शब्द

आरम्भ में केवल शब्द थाकिन्तु उसकी सार्थकता थी श्रुति बनने मेंकि वह किसी से कहा जाय मौन को टूटना अनिवार्य थाशब्द का कहा जाना थाताकि प्रलय का अराजक तिमिर व्यवस्थित उजियाले में रूपान्तरित हो ताकि रेगिस्तानगुलाबों की क्यारी बन जाय शब्द का कहा जाना अनिवार्य था।आदम की पसलियों के घाव से इवा के मुक्त अस्तित्व की प्रतिष्ठा के लिएशब्द को…

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Back From A Walk – Federico García Lorca

Back from a Walk Murdered by the sky.Among the forms that move toward the snakeand the forms searching for crystalI will let my hair grow.With the limbless tree that cannot singand the boy with the white egg face.With the broken-headed animalsand the ragged water of dry feet. With all that is tired, deaf-mute,and a butterfly…

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