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Quote by Pietros Maneos

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The Italian Pleasures of Gabriele Paterkallos

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Pietros Maneos

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“Sonnet of Expansion I expect nothing from the world, I have no desire to impress society. I only care for its wellbeing, Hence I simply do my human duty. Don't know whether I'm left or right, Which I don't give a damn about. World has enough conflicts as it is, One more duality we can do without. Expansion is the other name of life, Without which we are dead and rotten. If we are not willing to evolve, Humankind will be soon forgotten. If today's thought is the same as yesterday, Despite all achievements we are going astray.”

ProgressEvolutionPoemHumanitarianReasoningService Of HumanityActivistSonnetSocial Reform
Book:When Veins Ignite: Either Integration or Degradation
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“زندگي در چشم من شبهاي بي مهتاب را ماند شعر من نيلوفر پژمرده در مرداب را ماند ابر بي باران اندوهم خار خشک سينه ي کوهم سالها رفته است کز هر آرزو خاليست آغوشم نغمه پرداز جمال و عشق بودم... آه... حاليا خاموش خاموشم ياد از خاطر فراموشم روز چون گل مي شکوفد بر فراز کوه عصر پرپر مي شود اين نو شکفته در سکوت دشت روزها اين گونه پرپر گشت لحظه هاي بي شکيب عمر چون پرستوهاي بي آرام در پرواز رهروان را چشم حسرت باز اينک اينجا شعر و ساز و باده آماده است من که جام هستي ام از اشک لبريز است مي پرسم: با فريب شعر بايد زندگي را رنگ ديگر داد ؟ در نواي ساز بايد ناله هاي روح را گم کرد ؟ ناله ي من مي تراود از در و ديوار آسمان اما سرا پا گوش و خاموش است همزباني نيست تا گويم به زاري: اي دريغ جام من خالي شدست از شعر ناب ساز من فريادهاي بي جواب روز چون گل مي شکوفد بر فراز کوه روشنايي مي رود در آسمان بالا اما من... هم چنان در ظلمت شبهاي بي مهتاب هم چنان پژمرده در پهناي اين مرداب هم چنان لبريز از اندوه مي پرسم: جام اگر بشکست ؟ ساز اگر بشکست؟ شعر اگر ديگر به دل ننشست ؟”

GriefPoem
Author:فریدون مشیری
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“The Hibernal Realm by Stewart Stafford The compass knows not which way to go, And Life's submerged in winter's snow, The path before us fit for sleds, Dusted with a blizzard's web. Clear a path and the light the way, And get us through to break of day, Step through the ice-encrusted door, That shows the way to the dawn thaw. Stay too long in the hibernal realm, And the chill begins to overwhelm, Sit, rest, and take respite, And become at one with fading light. See The Winter King and then bow down, With frostbite smile and holly crown, Icicle sceptre makes the heartbeat slow, Lonely as the North wind blows. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

PoetryColdPoemWinterSnowPoemsBlizzardFrostbiteWinter KingWintry
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“You know that book of poems I’m always carrying around? [...] In one of her poems, she calls hope the ‘thing with feathers,’ and I always think about that…. Maybe when we hope for something, the hope flies off to find whatever it is we’re thinking about…and then it brings it back to us. And when there’s nothing else we can do, at least we can hope.”

PoetryHopePoemWingsFlyingFlightFeathersHopingEmily DickinsonHope Is The Thing With Feathers
Book:Aru Shah and the City of Gold
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