On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time

    On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. 
     But it is never lost, my Lord. 
Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.
          Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing 
    seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, 
                    and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.
          I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed 
   and imagined all work had ceased. 
In the morning I woke up and found my garden 
                                 full with wonders of flowers.







                             originally in bengali and translated into english
                                     by rabindranath tagore himself







......

poem by tagore in bengali

অনূদিত কবিতা

কবি (ওই যেতেছেন কবি কাননের পথ দিয়া)	বিসর্জন (যে তোরে বাসেরে ভালো, তারে ভালোবেসে বাছা)	তারা ও আঁখি (কাল সন্ধ্যাকালে ধীরে সন্ধ্যার বাতাস)
সূর্য ও ফুল (মহীয়সী মহিমার আগ্নেয় কুসুম)	সম্মিলন (সেথায় কপোত-বধূ লতার আড়ালে)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ১ (মধুর সূর্যের আলো, আকাশ বিমল)
বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ২ (সারাদিন গিয়েছিনু বনে)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ৩ (আমায় রেখো না ধরে আর)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ৪ (প্রভাতে একটি দীর্ঘশ্বাস)
বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ৫ (গোলাপ হাসিয়া বলে, আগে বৃষ্টি যাক চলে)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ৬ (হাসির সময় বড়ো নেই)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ৭ (বেঁচেছিল, হেসে হেসে)
বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ৮ (নিদাথের শেষ গোলাপ কুসুম)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ৯ (ওই আদরের নামে ডেকো সখা মোরে)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ১০ (কেমনে কী হল পারি নে বলিতে)
বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ১১ (রবির কিরণ হতে আড়াল করিয়া রেখে)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ১২ (দেখিনু যে এক আশার স্বপন)	বিদেশী ফুলের গুচ্ছ - ১৩ (নহে নহে এ মনে মরণ)
কোনো জাপানি কবিতার ইংরাজি অনুবাদ হইতে (বাতাসে অশথপাতা পড়িছে খসিয়া) ......

sentiments with trains

Overview

by Macdara Woods

 I  am here in my waiting room
Over  the  aural park
Hearing  the announcement
Of how the  railway lines
Will soon  be  disconnected

But how  beautiful is  the luas
That runs  above the  park
Beneath my  bedroom window
Quick and  busy in the dark
Imprinting  sense on things

Up here 
where  I turn on  the light
To make a  note of it
While  down there
 nightly  in the rain
The ghost-train  of my life
Rolls on across  the steppes

with love at its center

            The Talisman                                                                 






Only for those who love is dawn visible throughout the day
and kicks over the halo at the pit of ocean
the diamond whirls
all that’s fixed is volatile
and the crushed remnants of sparrows travel without moving

I find myself smoking the dust of myself
hurled to the twilight
where we were born from the womb of invisible children
so that even the liver of cities
can be turned into my amulet of laughing bile

Melted by shadows of love
I constellate love with teeth of fire
until any arrangement the world presents
to the eyes at the tip of my tongue
becomes the perfect food of constant hunger

Today the moon was visible at dawn
to reflect o woman the other half of me you are
conic your breasts gems of the air
triangle your thighs delicate leopards in the wood where you wait






                                              Philip Lamantia













........

rise early at dawn

Rise early at dawn, when our storytelling begins.
In the dead of the night,

 when all other doors are locked,
the door for the Lovers to enter opens.
Be wide awake in the dark when Lovers
begin fluttering around the Beloved’s window,
like homing pigeons arriving with flaming bodies.

                                                  Abu-Said  Abil Kheir     +1047

....

of treasures and gems

  

          Riches          

Charles Wm. Preble

The first snow came
yesterday—eight inches—
and today it is clear and cold.

Across the drive, a pileated woodpecker
tests an aged elm for digs;
and chickadees and nuthatches

dine on bits of safflower
and sunflower seeds
as a downy swings on the suet,
savoring his supper;

and the setting sun
ignites the barren branches
with glisters of rubies, while I 
sit inside beside the fire.

Tell me I am not rich.

.......

from; Gregor of Narek

Prayer 1

Speaking with God from the Depths of the Heart

A

The voice of a sighing heart, its sobs and mournful cries,¹
I offer up to you, O Seer of Secrets,²
placing the fruits of my wavering mind ³
as a savory sacrifice on the fire of my grieving soul ⁴
to be delivered to you in the censer of my will.

Compassionate Lord, breathe in
this offering and look more favorably on it
than upon a more sumptuous sacrifice⁵
offered with rich smoke. Please find
this simple string of words acceptable.
Do not turn in disdain.

May this unsolicited gift reach you,
this sacrifice of words⁶
from the deep mystery-filled chamber
of my feelings, consumed in flames
fueled by whatever grace I may have within me.⁷

As I pray, do not let these
pleas annoy you, Almighty,
like the raised hands of Jacob,
whose irreverence was rebuked
by Isaiah,⁸ nor let them seem like the impudence
of Babylon criticized in the 72nd Psalm.

But let these words be acceptable
as were the fragrant offerings
in the tabernacle at Shiloh⁹
raised again by David on his return from captivity
as the resting place for the ark of the covenant,
a symbol for the restoration of my lost soul.

B

Because your stern judgment
echoes mightily in the valley of retribution,¹⁰
contradictory impulses in my soul
brace for battle like clashing mobs.
Crowds of thoughts strike each other, sword
against armor, evil against good,
ensnaring me for death, as in other times,
when your grace had not rescued me -
that grace of Christ, which Paul,
chosen among the apostles,
taught was greater than the law of Moses.¹¹

For as the Scripture says, "The day
of the Lord is upon us," ¹²
and in the narrow valley of Jehoshaphat ¹³
on the banks of the Kidron,¹⁴
those small battle grounds
foreshadow on earth
victory in the life to come.
Thus, the kingdom of God in a visible form
has come already, charging me
on truthful testimony with wrongs
graver than those of the Edomites,¹⁵
Philistines and other barbarians -
wrongs that brought down the hand of God.
And whereas their sentences were measured in years,
my transgressions will be punished without term.
As the prophet and the parable-teller warned,
the dungeon and shackles¹⁶
are already at my threshold to show me
here and now my eternal disgrace.

Only you can work the miracle
to make life possible for a soul
so imperiled by doubt,
O Atoner for all, exalted beyond saying
in your boundless glory on high
forever and ever.
Amen.

      10th century armenian monk

......

those crazy elizabethans

SONG:  TO CELIA                              


Drink to me only with thine eyes,
   And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
   And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
    Doth ask a drink divine:
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
    I  would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreathe,
    Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope,  that there
    It could not withered be.
But thou thereon did'st only breathe,
    And sent'st it back to me;
Since when it grows and smells,  I swear,
    Not of itself, but thee.


                    Ben Jonson









.....