Poezi dhe Shkrime Abstrakte ne ANGLISHT

isinyc
02-03-2006, 15:13

Lonesome, lonesome
I feel the bitter cold
of loneliness
coming over me
winter came in august this year
and it found me
confused,
betrayed and
in pain
love has come and gone
and left me stranded
hitch-hiking
through my own life
searching once again
for meaning,
for passion.

Lonesome, lonesome
its the august cold
of loneliness
sending shivers through me
winter came so soon this year
and oh how I've winterd thus far
I close my eyes
and see her face
fading into a blur
and desperately search
for one last look
one last smile
as I slide
deep
in a whirlwind of
uncertainty
who am I?
who am I?

Lonesome Lonesome
I am turning cold as steel
its this steely cold of august
taking over me.

9.7.04

isinyc
02-03-2006, 15:18

Every year, the natural transition of seasons incites them to quarrel for our senses. Autumn, the most dreaded of seasons is at our threshold as summer like a peacock flaunts her array of merits for the last time. When he was younger, Isak often wondered if summer felt bad leaving (or any season for that matter). Was that the reason she always tried so hard to leave an unforgettable impression. Almost like saying "Please don't forget me....", or was that simply his inclination of avoiding change and become sentimental towrads everything that ends, even that which should, such as a season.

The summer sun shone its bright rays in the morning, and the autumn breeze danced seductively through the air. There was beauty in the sky. Two seasons intertwined in perfect unison like lovers kissing goodbye. He looked ahead and saw the future attempting to restrain the melancholy of nostalgia touching his face.

krutonja
02-04-2006, 00:08

te lumshin duart isinyc nqs i ke krijuar ti
shume te bukura
ajo lonesome lonesome e shkruar me shume ndjenje
kurse ajo e dyta....sa e bukur....fliste per vjeshten...stinen time te preferuar
urime

isinyc
02-04-2006, 11:22

krutonja, jane te mijat.... sh. flmdrt. per komentet.

isinyc
02-04-2006, 20:43

Midnight Express
i crash into you
with nocturnal passion
and unfashionable desire
of affection.
Divided,
love and lust
theoretically impaired...
i glare at you
with all these feelings
sinking down
raising me
into empty space,
as i taste
your salty lips
from your salty
face
i see your grace
i feel your grace
i know this place......
its glory ways
its glory days
my glory lives
In salty tastes.

I enjoy you.

Everyday
I run away
To find myself
close to you
Midnight Express,
One way,
Always brings me back
Somehow.
Lost and found
Silent but sound
Smiling,
I frown
And close my eyes
Upon your sight
I feel you smile
Erotic, passionate
Forbidden,
I’m bound
To you
By nothing else
But love
Refound,
By breath itself
I breathe your ground.

krutonja
02-04-2006, 23:09

whoa
shume e bukur edhe kjo
ti duhesh te jesh vajze se nuk ka se si te shkruaje nje djale me kaq ndjenje
te lumshin duart

isinyc
02-05-2006, 01:59

ndjejm edhe ne....

isinyc
02-05-2006, 02:01

slowly gliding
away from me,
getting smaller
into a perfect horizon.
As time passes
with each moment and
the feelings it possesses,
you're disappearing,
as the distance grows.
Our distance grows.
I find myself alone again.
The fires have burned out,
passion has cooled
love is just a feeling
that i remember feeling
but can't feel anymore.
How strange
to see a stranger
in someone I adored.

A stranger in my future,
I picture
you will have remained beautiful
deep into time
how disturbing
that now your beauty fades
erasing slowly
from my memory
what once caused me to shed tears
will get lost in my oblivion
it will fade to gray
like an old film
with actors that have since passed away
Ahhh, we were stars then.

isinyc
02-05-2006, 02:10

I am
lost in the right path
towards
ambiguous virtues
towards
fusha, kodra, lumej e male

I am
the supposed bearer
of calculated propensities
the supposed savior
of Albanian virginity

I am
the alpha male
whose seed spurns
supposed greed
among the fertile
with a desire for
pimitive virtue

I am
persona non grata
compassionate,
emotional,
a reminder
that along with testosterone
men produce tears

I am
Romeo.
Suffering,
from the quintessential
love story

I am....

isinyc
02-05-2006, 02:12

It has been a good new year. Busy weekdays and entertaining weekends. Goethe says, "A man can endure anything except a succession of ordinary days" only to soften it with "Enjoy when you can, and endure when you must" All in all it sums up to living and I am certain that that is what I am doing.

Sometimes it feels like we're so busy trying to make a life that we forget how to live it. I rarely look up anymore, only to be amazed when I catch a starry night. It reminds me of Tirana summer nights in the 80's, standing on my balcony where the sky was a perfect black, smothered in glimmering stars like a recepie gone wrong - yet so beautiful. In America it used to be my 'quality alone time'...silence and the murky NY sky when generous enough to let a few stars shine through. Anyway, to spare you reader, anymore tedious detail - what i mean to say is...I miss slowing down and enjoying life, so tonight I paused for a few minutes and looked up. I would imagine I resembled a believer searching for the face of God, but my expression would have told you otherwise as my spirit resonated, and for the moment I was a God.

There's always melancholy in nostalgia. However, it is distinguishable from the mourner's melancholy. No, I certainly was not mourning. It was a bittersweet melancholy, celebratory in nature as it was marked by a memory of happiness, a longing for it - nostalgia. "Happiness is the longing for repetition" (Kundera) I searched deep within me, and pulled memories locked in boxes that have long been shelved. Happyness is the longing for repetition I wondered as I stared at the unusually dark sky and the shimmering lights emerging forth from it. I felt the brisk January air gently burn my skin and thought of repetition as I mechanically moved a cigarette in and out of my mouth; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale - if it were only that simple.

Poezi Anglisht.

Belief

Would it be weird
if the long and lonely path of life
seemed like a glimpse
of what I expect.
The vocal controversy of beliefs
gets tired of useless debate.
I surely don't feel right.
I feel insecure from my own logic.
Tragic stories seem funnywhile
I think, what if,
the sky one day was not promised
to fall apart, the sun was not
promised to burn out.
Belief of future is far beyond life,
It never binds us
to the blue beloved planet,
but it makes us love our life more.
The life of a non believer fades
they do not see,
no site, no visions of the promised land.
They are the fading shadows.


An Entrapment.


My love, I have tried with all my being
to grasp a form comparable to thine own,
but nothing seems worthy;

I know now why Shakespeare could not
compare his love to a summer’s day.
It would be a crime to denounce the beauty
of such a creature as thee,
to simply cast away the precision
God had placed in forging you.

Each facet of your being
whether it physical or spiritual
is an ensnarement
from which there is no release.
But I do not wish release.
I wish to stay entrapped forever.
With you for all eternity.
Our hearts, always as one.

Love Four Reasons

Love Four Reasons

I've searched 4 loveintensively
checked under rocks,behind doors
Then one day i figured it all out
love is confusing to me no more
Relationships are started
based on emotional need
Figure out what that need is
or your heart will bleed
There R but four reasons
all people need hook ups
spouse,companion,friends
and the booty call 4 a ****
The spouse role is special
2 hearts beating as one
opposite of the booty call
who just shows up 4 fun
Then there is companion
grade them with a C
they R cool to kick it with
but soulmates they'll never B
Friends are a must have
someone you emotionally trust
Sex would ruin the relationship
and this friendship is a must
Here is the confusing part
that forces me to mention
A soulmate can not B found
from a booty call intention
You can't control another's heart
they must do that themselves
Having sex 2 try to force a change
you'll only hurt yourself
Nor is there commitment
trust me to the letter
A good companion will leave U
when they find sumthin better
Now of course a good friend
is always there 4 you
to listen comfort,or basically
support whats you're going through
Each of us will have a turn
at each one of these roles
It's up 2U to figure it out
the secret has just been told
not everything IS what it seems to be

Titulli: Poezi Anglisht.

" Do not be sad.............."​

Do not be sad, because sadness causes you to regret the past, to have misgivings concerning the future, and to make you waste away your present.

Do not be sad, because it causes the heart to contract, the face to frown, the spirit to weaken, and hope to vanish.

Do not be sad, because your sadness pleases your enemy, angers your friend, and makes the jealous rejoice.

Do not be sad, because by being sad, you are complaining against the Divine decree, showing vexation at what is written for you. It takes you out of loving emotions. It is verdict against the blessings.

Do not be sad, because grief cannot return to you the one that is lost or is gone away. It cannot resurrect the dead, it cannot change fate or bring any benefit whatsoever.

Do not be sad, because sadness is often from the devil and is a kind of hopelessness.

Titulli: Poezi Anglisht.

Everybody Knows:.......​

You can't be all things to all people.
You can't do all things at once.
You can't do all things equally well.
You can't do all things better than everyone else.
Your humanity is showing just like everyone else's.

So:
You have to find out who you are, and be that.
You have to decide what comes first, and do that.
You have to discover your strengths, and use them.
You have to learn not to compete with others,
Because no one else is in the contest of *being you*.

Then:
You will have learned to accept your own uniqueness.
You will have learned to set priorities and make decisions.
You will have learned to live with your limitations.
You will have learned to give yourself the respect that is due.
And you'll be a most vital mortal.

Dare To Believe:
That you are a wonderful, unique person.
That you are a once-in-all-history event.
That it's more than a right, it's your duty, to be who you are.
That life is not a problem to solve, but a gift to cherish.
And you'll be able to stay one up on what used to get you down.

Titulli: Poezi Anglisht.

Love

Sometimes at night, when I look to the sky,
I start thinking of you and then ask myself, why?
Why do I love you? I think and smile,
because I know the list could run on for miles.
The whisper of your voice, the warmth of your touch,
so many little things that make me love you so much.
The way you support me, and help with my emotions,
the way that you care and show such devotion.
The way that your kiss, fills me with desire,
and how you hold me with the warmth of a blazing fire.
The way your eyes shine when you look at me,
lost with you forever is were I want to be.
The way that I feel when you're by my side,
a sense of completion and overflowing pride.
The dreams that I dream, that all involve you,
the possibilities I see and the things we can do.
How you finish the puzzle that lies inside my heart,
how that deep in my soul, you are the most important part.
I could go on for days, telling of what I feel,
but all you really must know is my love for you is real.

Titulli: Poezi Anglisht.

Will you ever?

I don't think you will
ever fully understand
how you've touched my life
and made me who I am.

I don't think you could ever know
just how truly special you are
that even on the darkest nights
you are my brightest star.

I don't think you will ever fully comprehend
how you've made my dreams come true
or how you've opened my heart
to love and the wonders it can do.

You've allowed me to experience
something very hard to find
unconditional love that exists
in my body, soul, and mind.

I don't think you could ever feel
all the love I have to give
and I'm sure you'll never realize
you've been my will to live.

You are an amazing person
and without you I don't know where id be.
Having you in my life
completes and fulfills every part of me.

Titulli: Poezi Anglisht.


1. The Road Not Taken


TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20



Per ata qe kuptojne anglishten do e kuptojne mese se mire kete poezi.

---------- Post added at 00:43 ---------- Previous post was at 00:42 ----------


IF.....

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a Bukurosh for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Favorite Poems

Bellatrix love both of the poems you shared lotssss

Pe: Poezi Anglisht.

Pe: Poezi Anglisht.

I SIT BY THE WINDOW
by Joseph Brodsky


I said fate plays a game without a score,
and who needs fish if you've got caviar?
The triumph of the Gothic style would come to pass
and turn you on--no need for coke, or grass.
I sit by the window. Outside, an aspen.
When I loved, I loved deeply. It wasn't often.

I said the forest's only part of a tree.
Who needs the whole girl if you've got her knee?
Sick of the dust raised by the modern era,
the Russian eye would rest on an Estonian spire.
I sit by the window. The dishes are done.
I was happy here. But I won't be again.

I wrote: The bulb looks at the flower in fear,
and love, as an act, lacks a verb; the zero-
Euclid thought the vanishing point became
wasn't math--it was the nothingness of Time.
I sit by the window. And while I sit
my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit.

I said that the leaf may destory the bud;
what's fertile falls in fallow soil--a dud;
that on the flat field, the unshadowed plain
nature spills the seeds of trees in vain.
I sit by the window. Hands lock my knees.
My heavy shadow's my squat company.

My song was out of tune, my voice was cracked,
but at least no chorus can ever sing it back.
That talk like this reaps no reward bewilders
no one--no one's legs rest on my shoulders.
I sit by the window in the dark. Like an express,
the waves behind the wavelike curtain crash.

A loyal subject of these second-rate years,
I proudly admit that my finest ideas
are second-rate, and may the future take them
as trophies of my struggle against suffocation.
I sit in the dark. And it would be hard to figure out
which is worse; the dark inside, or the darkness out.

Pe: Poezi Anglisht.

I'm only υρ when you're not down,
Don't wanna flу if you're still on the ground,
Iт'ѕ lιкє no matter what i do,
You drive me crazy half the time,
The other half..
...I m just trying to let,
you know that what i feel is true,
I'm only complete when ι'm with YOU.

Pe: Poezi Anglisht.

How Heavy The Days
by Herman Hesse
Translated by James Wright

How heavy the days are.
There's not a fire that can warm me,
Not a sun to laugh with me,
Everything bare,
Everything cold and merciless,
And even the beloved, clear
Stars look desolately down,
Since I learned in my heart that
Love can die.

Pe: Poezi Anglisht.

"If" - Richard Kipling


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a Bukurosh for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!


se di nqs eshte postuar po kjo eshte my personal fav

Pe: Poezi Anglisht.

There's a nail in the door
And there's glass on the lawn
Tacks on the floor
And the TV is on
And I always sleep with my guns
When you're gone

There's a blade by the bed
And a phone in my hand
A dog on the floor
And some cash on the nightstand
When I'm all alone the dreaming stops
And I just can't stand

There's a shark in the pool
And a witch in the tree
A crazy old neighbour and he's been watching me
And there's footsteps loud and strong coming down the hall
Something's under the bed
Now it's out in the hedge
There's a big black crow sitting on my window ledge
And I hear something scratching through the wall

Well you're up so high
How can you save me
When the dark comes here
Tonight to take me up
To my front walk
And into bed where it kisses my face
And eats my head

Oh what should I do,You are so far...
What if the lights go out and maybe
And then the wind just starts to moan
Outside the door he followed me home
Now goodnight moon
I want to rest with my "sun"
If it's not here soon
I might be done
No it won't be too soon 'til I say
Goodnight moon...

Pe: Poezi Anglisht.

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?

Titulli: Poezi Anglisht.

A Single Rose For You

A Single rose of love
A Single rose of devotion
A Single wish upon my lips
A Single thought of you
A Single desire to be granted
A Single moment of careless bliss
A Single love never to be broken
A Single rose for one last kiss.

Titulli: Poezi Anglisht.

origjinali eshte ne frengjisht, por po e sjell ne anglisht

Robert Desnos - I Have Dreamed of You so Much

I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real.
Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make
your dear voice come alive again?

I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my
chest as I hugged your shadow, would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body.
For faced with the real form of what has haunted me and governed me for so many
days and years, I would surely become a shadow.

O scales of feeling.

I have dreamed of you so much that surely there is no more time for me to wake up.
I sleep on my feet prey to all the forms of life and love, and you, the only one who
counts for me today, I can no more touch your face and lips than touch the lips and
face of some passerby.

I have dreamed of you so much, have walked so much, talked so much, slept so much
with your phantom, that perhaps the only thing left for me is to become a phantom
among phantoms, a shadow a hundred times more shadow than the shadow the
moves and goes on moving, brightly, over the sundial of your life.

Pe: Poezi Anglisht.

The Smile- William Blake​

Pe: Poezi dhe Shkrime Abstrakte ne ANGLISHT

Titulli: Poezi dhe Shkrime Abstrakte ne ANGLISHT

Jo dhe aq abstrakte, por nje e preferuar e imja qe ne shkolle te mesme...

The Hollow Men
T. S. Eliot

Mistah Kurtz—he dead.

A penny for the Old Guy

I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Pe: Poezi dhe Shkrime Abstrakte ne ANGLISHT

by William Butler Yeats

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty Swans.

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

Titulli: Poezi dhe Shkrime Abstrakte ne ANGLISHT