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الملاحظات
أهلا وسهلا بك إلى منتديات الأماكن.
أهلا وسهلا بك زائرنا الكريم، إذا كانت هذه زيارتك الأولى للمنتدى، فيرجى التكرم بزيارة صفحة التعليمـــات، بالضغط هنا.
كما يشرفنا أن تقوم بالتسجيل بالضغط هنا إذا رغبت بالمشاركة في المنتدى، أما إذا رغبت بقراءة المواضيع والإطلاع فتفضل بزيارة القسم الذي ترغب أدناه.
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المشاركات 14 |
+التقييم 0.00 |
تاريخ التسجيل Apr 2008 |
الاقامة |
نظام التشغيل |
رقم العضوية 18208 |
09-04-2008, 05:22 PM
المشاركة
1
09-04-2008, 05:22 PM
المشاركة
1
poem SILENCE by Marianne Moore
| [My father used to say "Superior people never make long visits have to be shown Longfellow's grave or the glass flowers at Harvard. Self-reliant like the cat that takes it's prey to privacy, the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth they somtimes enjoy solitude, and can be robbed of speech by speech which has delighted them. The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence; not in SILENCE , but restraint." Nor waas he insincere in saying, "Make my house your inn." Inns are not residences. |
المصدر: منتديات الأماكن
poem SILENCE by Marianne Moore
09-04-2008, 07:06 PM
المشاركة
3
[Most near, most dear, most loved and most far
Under the window where Ioften found her
Sitting as huge as Asia, seismic with laughter
Gin and chicken helpless in her Irish hand
Irresistible as Rabelais but most tender for
The lame dogs and hurt birds that surround her
she is procession no one can follow after
But be like a little dog following a brass band.
She will not glance up at the bomber or condescend
To drop her gin and scuttle to a cellar
But lean on the mahogany table like a mountain
Whom only faith can move, and so I send
O all my faith and all my love to tell her
That she will move from mourning into morning
Under the window where Ioften found her
Sitting as huge as Asia, seismic with laughter
Gin and chicken helpless in her Irish hand
Irresistible as Rabelais but most tender for
The lame dogs and hurt birds that surround her
she is procession no one can follow after
But be like a little dog following a brass band.
She will not glance up at the bomber or condescend
To drop her gin and scuttle to a cellar
But lean on the mahogany table like a mountain
Whom only faith can move, and so I send
O all my faith and all my love to tell her
That she will move from mourning into morning
اخي العزيز / اختي العزيزة .. الرجاء وضع توقيع واحد فقط وبحجم مناسب !! كما نرجوا منكم عدم وضع توقيع صوتي يظهر تلقائي اثناء فتح الصحفه .
09-04-2008, 07:10 PM
المشاركة
4
poem: SONNET TO MY MOTHER by George Barker
Most near, most dear, most loved and most far
Under the window where I often found her
Sitting as huge as Asia, seismic with laughter
Gin and chicken helpless in her Irish hand
Irresistible as Rabelais but most tender for
The lame dogs and hurt birds that surround her
she is procession no one can follow after
But be like a little dog following a brass band.
She will not glance up at the bomber or condescend
To drop her gin and scuttle to a cellar
But lean on the mahogany table like a mountain
Whom only faith can move, and so I send
O all my faith and all my love to tell her
That she will move from mourning into morning
Under the window where I often found her
Sitting as huge as Asia, seismic with laughter
Gin and chicken helpless in her Irish hand
Irresistible as Rabelais but most tender for
The lame dogs and hurt birds that surround her
she is procession no one can follow after
But be like a little dog following a brass band.
She will not glance up at the bomber or condescend
To drop her gin and scuttle to a cellar
But lean on the mahogany table like a mountain
Whom only faith can move, and so I send
O all my faith and all my love to tell her
That she will move from mourning into morning
اخي العزيز / اختي العزيزة .. الرجاء وضع توقيع واحد فقط وبحجم مناسب !! كما نرجوا منكم عدم وضع توقيع صوتي يظهر تلقائي اثناء فتح الصحفه .
| الذين يشاهدون محتوى الموضوع الآن : 1 ( الأعضاء 0 والزوار 1) | |
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الساعة الآن 02:05 PM.