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Quote by Charles Bukowski

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What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire

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Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski, born on August 16, 1920, was an influential American poet. Known for his unique style and profound depiction of the lives of the underclass in America, he is considered one of the representatives of the Beat Generation. more

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“داروگ خشک آمد کشتگاه ِ من در جوار ِ کشت ِ همسايه . گرچه می‌گويند : « می‌گريند روی ِ ساحل ِ نزديک سوکواران در ميان ِ سوکواران . » قاصد ِ روزان ِ ابری ، داروگ ! [1] کی می‌رسد باران ؟ بر بساطی که بساطی نيست ، در درون ِ کومه‌ی ِ تاريک ِ من که ذرّه‌ای با آن نشاطی نيست و جدار ِ دنده‌های ِ نی به ديوار ِ اتاقم دارد از خشکيش می‌ترکد - چون دل ِ ياران که در هجران ِ ياران – قاصد ِ روزان ِ ابری ، داروگ ! کی می‌رسد باران ؟”

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“There are so many things to say; so many things that can't really be said. So much has happened; so little has changed. We have so many words prepared; so many words are too hard to actually say. A few days have passed; this pain has been here for years. We don't know where to go from here; our future has always been in our minds. Moments of peace with those who constantly argue; fights with those that usually bring peace. There are so many things to say; so many things that can't really be said.”

LifePoemPoetic
Author:Alysha Speer
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“My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims' pride, From every mountainside Let freedom ring! My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills, Like that above. Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song; Let mortal tongues awake; Let all that breathe partake; Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong. Our father's God to Thee, Author of liberty, To Thee we sing. Long may our land be bright, With freedom's holy light, Protect us by Thy might, Great God our King.”

InspirationalSongPoemPatriotic
Author:Samuel Francis Smith
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“Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente, y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca. Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca. . Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía. Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma, y te pareces a la palabra melancolía. . Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante. Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo. Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza: Déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo. . Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo. Eres como la noche, callada y constelada. Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo. . Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente. Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto. Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan. Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.”

LoveLifePoem
Book:Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
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