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Posts Tagged ‘remember’

Nothing, almost nothing remains after time decides;
No spring, no fall, no waiting under the waning moon,
No desire before the setting sun, but the mad tides.
We smile, we stand so much in courage every time;
We will look at the floating clouds and whisper soon,
We are here to breathe, and here always to rhyme.

The rainbow that our soul seeks will appear again,
There will be the sun and at a distance it will rain.
Rose to rose will whisper what love shines again.
Among those words in hunger, there will be rhyme
For an incessant, unheard thirst of this souls’ pain.
We shall meet again and tell the story of our life.
We shall kiss under the rainbow and more bargain.

Time repeats and tosses what we thought will live
Till it finds enough ground for our souls to give.
Love will stand through those tides and not flicker,
And declare the time where the rainbow is forever.

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Among winding reeds something stands
So tall that I am amazed with my heart;
There are dark, eloquence enticed hands
Reading rumours among rusted strands.

We sing and dance with lost souls around,
There is a great day that all eyes dream
But no single soul touches the silver sand.
Not drunk, nor deserted, but have found
The blue crystal moon beyond life’s stream.

Someday we will meet at some crossroad,
With hands flowing to touch and console.
We will but discover the same eyes and years
We have lived craving for peace and stifled
Desires to draught among barren whispers
Of fake and frozen beauties wrapped in gold.

But hope is like a stubborn cliff that will stand
Beside the sea among tempests to prove;
That we live under the same leaves and land,
We hope, harvest and still crave for love.

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Sometimes it’s so hard to face life,
So perturbed when seeing death;
A friend whom I lost and promised
A smile so sweet and spring of health.

From the dark corridor where he lied
So innocent and induced with fear,
 I took him out and on the river side
He smiled and took my promise so dear;
To come back and gift him a toyed cheer
And play again on the sands of time.

Our imprints will not stay here,
For this land forgets and forgives
All toil done under the ageing sun.
The boy seven years old then had tear
When asked about life and our lives
So different, undreamt and smear.

I will not see you again nor walk
With you in the summer evening.
But I will remember you ever smile.
I will learn how to live not in desire
But in your dreams and your words.
Someday when I leave, you must wait
For me to join and have the play again.

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When we last met in the temple town,
Over the unused rocks of craftsmen,
There were deities and precinct power.
There were lions roaring on the shore.

Remember the green grass we walked along
To find the smallest joy in the country song.
Remember the priest who joined our hands
To join our souls forever and to journey,
Through the greenness of grass and gluttony.

In these visions of the vermillion past,
My soul will not rest or reduce,
Nor will it nurture or again remember
The decadence of faith or ever cast
The mutiny of monuments that seduce.

I am the soul so will be free and move
From the false applauds and toyed glory.
And will not be lazy or rest in love,
Nor toil among all that will be history.
In a dream at least I found the meaning
Of life, freedom and paradise sublime.

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It’s dark enough to close my eyes
And listen not to this world around.
What I can hear is just a distant echo;
A chorus with hymns from childhood,
And the days filled with innocence.

There is a home other side of this river
From where I belong and was born.
I see apparitions there that shiver
As have grown old and are in need
Of a shoulder strong to rest upon.

In dark I listen to the loved lullabies
My mother sung on summer nights,
And the warmth of winter evenings
That she rendered on the river bank.

But with time’s cruel intention,
Innocence breaks and broods.
And grows old with the shepherd’s tale;
Here is the world on the other side,
Where nothing heals but the memory.

A thinking mind brings misfortune,
And judges nothing but profit;
The world grows older with us
And in us it finds a waning moon.

But there calls the same bird
On the same bough to get back
And restore the glories of our past.
We will not journey together
But on parallel ships with coloured mast
And find enough wind to whack;
And courage to listen to the bard.

There is a home calling!

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