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shazdeh_khanom

Love Poetry!

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Guest maheshabe14

hehe vali eishalah ke movafaghyatmoon o khoshbakhtimoon ham hameh behtarin nahv mese ham basheh na faghat gham o delshekastegymon :friends:

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well said leyla joonnnnnnnnnnnnn :DD :friends:

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while we are reciting al bundy rhymes:

 

Chocolate cake, chocolate cake!

Eat so much your stomach ache!

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Guest Devilette

zendegi ra doost daram bekhatere tabi'atash

darya ra doost daram bekhatere mojash

gol ra doost daram behatere booyash

oo ra doost daram bekhatere vojoodash

 

:wub:

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Don't Go Far Off, Not Even For A Day

Pablo Neruda

 

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --

because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

 

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because

then the little drops of anguish will all run together,

the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift

into me, choking my lost heart.

 

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;

may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.

Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

 

because in that moment you'll have gone so far

I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,

Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

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veryyyyyy nice!! bravooooooo!!!!!! :clap::clap::clap::wub::wub:

 

 

 

zendegi ra doost daram bekhatere tabi'atash

darya ra doost daram bekhatere mojash

gol ra doost daram behatere booyash

oo ra doost daram bekhatere vojoodash

 

:wub:

92560[/snapback]

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Love Song

 

Rainer Maria Rilke

 

 

 

How can I keep my soul in me, so that

 

it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise

 

it high enough, past you, to other things?

 

I would like to shelter it, among remote

 

lost objects, in some dark and silent place

 

that doesn't resonate when your depths resound.

 

Yet everything that touches us, me and you,

 

takes us together like a violin's bow,

 

which draws one voice out of two separate strings.

 

Upon what instrument are we two spanned?

 

And what musician holds us in his hand?

 

Oh sweetest song.

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My Burning Heart

Rumi

 

 

My heart is burning with love

All can see this flame

My heart is pulsing with passion

like waves on an ocean

 

my friends have become strangers

and I’m surrounded by enemies

But I’m free as the wind

no longer hurt by those who reproach me

 

I’m at home wherever I am

And in the room of lovers

I can see with closed eyes

the beauty that dances

 

Behind the veils

intoxicated with love

I too dance the rhythm

of this moving world

 

I have lost my senses

in my world of lovers

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Lately, I’ve come across this Arabic poet Nizar Qabbani; his descriptions are very sensual and vivid :wub: … I luuuvv the whole description of the “intoxication” experience depicted by many Persian and Arabic poets :wub::wub::wub:

 

 

your body is my map

by Nizar Qabbani

 

 

raise me more love… raise me

 

my prettiest fits of madness

 

O’ dagger’s journey… in my flesh

 

and knife’s plunge…

 

sink me further my lady…

 

the sea calls me

 

add to me more death …

 

perhaps as death slays me… I’m revived

 

your body is my map…

 

the world's map no longer concerns me…

 

I am the oldest capital of sadness…

 

and my wound a Pharaonic engraving

 

my pain…. extends like an oil patch

 

from Beirut… to China…

 

my pain… a caravan…dispatched

 

by the Caliphs of "A’Chaam"… to China…

 

in the seventh century of the "Birth"…

 

and lost in a dragon’s mouth…

 

bird of my heart… "naysani"

 

O’ sand of the sea, and forests of olives

 

O’ taste of snow, and taste of fire…

 

my heathen flavor, and insight

 

I feel scared of the unknown… shelter me

 

I feel scared of the darkness… embrace me

 

I feel cold… cover me up

 

tell me children stories…

 

rest beside me…

 

Chant to me…

 

since from the start of creation

 

I’ve been searching for a homeland to my forehead…

 

for a woman’s hair…

 

that writes me on the walls… then erases me…

 

for a woman’s love… to take me

 

to the borders of the sun… and throws me…

 

from a woman’s lip… as she makes me

 

like dust of powdered gold…

 

shine of my life. my fan

 

my lantern. declaration of my orchards

 

stretch me a bridge with the scent of oranges…

 

and place me like an ivory comb…

 

in the darkness of your hair… then forget me

 

I am a drop of water… ambivalent

 

remaining in the notebook of October

 

your love crushes me…

 

like a mad horse from the Caucasus throwing me under its hoofs…

 

and gargles with the water of my eyes…

 

add to me more fury… add to me

 

O’ prettiest fits of my madness

 

for your sake I set free my women

 

and effaced my birth certificate

 

and cut all my arteries…

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My Love

by Nizar Qabbani

 

Do not ask me, the name of my love

I fear for you, from the fragrance of perfume

contained in a bottle, if you smashed it,

drowning you, in spilled scent

 

By God, if you even croaked a letter,

Lilacs would pile up on the paths

 

Do not look for it here in my chest

I have left it to run with the sunset

 

You can see it in the laughter of doves

In the flutter of butterflies

In the ocean, in the breathing of dales

and in the song of every nightingale

in the tears of winter, when winter cries

in the giving of a generous cloud

 

Do not ask about his lips...as elegant as the sunset

And his eyes, a shore of purity

And his waist, the sway of a branch

Charms...which no book has contained

Nor described by a literate's feather

And his chest, his throat, enough for you

[akhhh.... nagooooo :wub: :bl :bl :bl ]

 

I won't breath his name, my lover... a..aa.aaa :no: :no: :wub::wub:

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this is no love poem

these are just words

ink writtern characters just to fill up space

with every move my hand makes to fill up these spaces

every character will tell a story

every drop of the ink will describe a feeling

every feeling will show its emotion

and every emotions with in it is me....

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this poem is written by Shamloo, one of my fav contemporary Iranian poets, enjoy :wub:

 

AIDA IN THE MIRROR

 

Your lips, delicate as poetry,

turn the most voluptuous kiss

into such a coyness

that the cave animal uses it

to become human.

And your cheeks, with two oblique lines,

that lead your pride

and my destiny

I who have endured the night

without being armed

in anticipation of the dawn

and have brought back

a proud virginity,

 

sealed

 

from the brothels of barter.

(Never did a man so ruinously rise

 

to kill himself

 

as I settled the task of living)

And your eyes are the secret of fire

and your love

is the victory of man

when he rushes to battle against his fate.

And your bosom

a tiny place to live

a tiny place to die

and an escape

from the city

that accuses the purity of the sky

shamelessly with a thousand fingers.

 

A mountain begins with its first rocks

and man with the first pain

in me, there was a cruel prisoner

not used to the clanking of his chains

I began with your first glance.

Tempests play magnificently

a tiny flute

in your grand dance.

 

And the singing of your veins

makes the sun of the always rise.

(Let me rise from sleep so

that all the lanes of the city

perceive my presence.)

Your hands are reconciliation

and friends helping that hostilities

may be forgotten.

 

Your forehead is a tall mirror

luminous and high

in which the Seven Sisters stare

to realize their beauty.

Two restless birds sing on your chest

from which direction will the summer arrive

so thirst will make

all the waters

even wholesomer?

 

That you may appear in the mirror

a life-long I kept

staring at it

all the lakes and the seas

I wept.

 

O Fairy in human form

whose body would not burn

except in the fire of illusion

your presence is a paradise

justifying escape from hell

it is an ocean overwhelming me

to wash me clean

of every lie

and of every sin.

And the dawn awakens by your hands. :wub::wub::wub:

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yeah, that's my fav Shamloo piece too as well as "Dar in Bonbast" :DD :DD :DD ... when i went to farsi saturday school , i had this teacher that had this HUGE obsession with Shamloo, so what we did all day was basically listened to Shamloo's poems and got our weekly dose of Shamloo in one day :p :p :p

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lol was he politically active? When i was younger I more or less disliked Shamloo’s socio-political approach in poetry! And I boycotted him mainly because he had harshly ”dissed” Sohrab Sepehri my idol and main source of inspiration for being a pacifist and aphetic poet, not including politics in his poetry! :angry: :p

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i think he was, cause once he showed us that movie "nabard e gavaznha" or something to do with "gavaznhga" [sorry the name has escaped my mind now :bl :bl ] it's an old irooni black and white movie, which is kinda political so i guess he was .... but i had no idea Shamloo had boycotted Sohrab, what a load of cra* man.... Sohrab is like no other poet... i mean when u read his poems and the descriptions that he uses, ur soul wants to fly awayyyyyyyyy, very original and unique approach to poetry.. so what if he doesnt have a political approach :no: :no:

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that is exactly why shamloo said one shouldn’t read sohrab, coz he makes us live in a dream world beyond reality! He would probably label him as hippy! :bash:

And yes your teacher was probably a leftist since he liked the movie ”gavaznhaa (deers)”! :D

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