More of the same as the other day

Yeh bhiga mausam, yeh sooni raatein....just waxing poetic, friends.
Reminds of some verses heard on the radio, my mom humming in the kitchen, poetry memorised desperately in schools (to the point they were almost nightmares for me), in junior high, where these verses were an escape from the math and science routine, and now when I read them sometimes even at bedtimes. In fact, some of the best gifts Sanju's ever given me is a poetry book, some of the finest poets. Longfellow, Wordsworth, Byron, Keats, Dickinson, Maya Angelou, etc. Yes, I am a closet romantic. I am even learning to pen sonnets. Have just penned one coupla months ago. Dedicated to my husband, coz he allowed me some laze time when I wanted to do it. He's sweet to me, he is even though he doesnt care much for them.

My First Sonnet for Sanju

Trying to write a sonnet for you love
The five step thing not easy for me to get
But try I will tonight for you all above
Just got started, can’t give up yet.
You snore away loud poor tired soul
When midnight comes by, hard to keep awake
My gift of fourteen lines hardly a goal
A very pathetic and sad sonnet make
But since I never rhymed for you dear
Feel bad that never even wrote a line
You suspect my love is what I do fear
Pray tell me this effort for you is fine
Then maybe I can write some better ones
You have my love eternal, hon. in tons.

Not a literary gem at any rate but it still is pretty ok for a first effort. After I finish defending, I am gonna take some time off and get it right. And now for some of my all-time favorites:

"She walks in beauty, like the night"

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light 5
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face, 10
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow, 15
But tell of days in goodness spent,—
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.


Wordsworth:"She was a Phantom of delight"

SHE was a Phantom of delight
When first she gleam'd upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament:
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food,
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A being breathing thoughtful breath,
A traveller between life and death:
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of an angel light.

I like some of the poet Gulzar and JAved Akhtar too and not the commercial stuff. Tarkash was ok; but pretty easy to understand. Pukhraj is difficult, but I try and what I understand or understood so far, was beautiful. I wish I could ask somebody what some of those words mean. Maybe I should get a Urdu English Dictionary.Lemme see.

Verses - good/bad/worse

This is from that movie-"In Her shoes"-Jennifer Weiner. I liked it. The book didnt talk about it. The poem was written by e.e.cummings. I loved it and especially the interpretation of it.
i carry your heart with me
by e. e. cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

This one is also from the same book and movie. I liked it even more. Sometimes seems like the story of my life.
One Art
— Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intentto be lost
that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day.
Accept the flusterof lost door keys,
the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel.
None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch.
And look! my last, ornext-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones.
And, vaster,some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
— Even losing you (the joking voice, a gestureI love)
I shan't have lied.
It's evidentthe art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.