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Quote by Janid Kashmiri

“MAR MAR KE JE RAHA HUN Je je ke mar raha hun, Mar mar ke je raha hun, Dil ka haal ye hai, bas Jise zehar pi raha hun. Khud se hi bair hai ab, Duniya se kya gila hai, Jashn-e-gham manata Aansu mein pi raha hun. Uljhnein meri saheli, Aansu mere saathi hai, Pal pal bikhar ke janid, Apni zindagi ji raha hun.”

Quote by Janid Kashmiri

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Janid Kashmiri

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“THE EYE OF TIME The eye of time has witnessed countless spectacles, Every joy bound to wounds, a profound connection tangible. Dreams extinguished in silence, unseen by all, Desires crumbling as wishes at their side would fall. Time played its games in the theater of existence, Love defeated, while hatred found persistence. Hearts became desolate in mere moments, Helplessness weeping at the doorstep of life's torments. The eye of time could never grasp this mystery, Why behind every smile lurks sorrow's misery. Yet this heart, for centuries, has asked again, Why does darkness follow when light remains?”

PoetryPoemLife Poetry
Author:Janid Kashmiri
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“The Winter Miles The roads of solitude grow whiter,
And stones beneath us paler,
While the green fades completely —
Ahead of us. Grey is the sombre tone we keep,
While wandering along the street
That becomes our destiny —
With each step. Our knees fall into the snow; The trembling stops at last, Here our souls will find eternal rest — In silent grace. -Laura Chouette”

PoetryPoemWinterChristmasNew YearDecemberWinter QuotesSnowflakesWinter Quotations
Author:Laura Chouette
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“Christmas Hyacinths The air grows cleaner with each sight
Of words - silver and clear -
Without heaviness and sighs. Winter closes in on each street,
That familiar place we haunted to keep,
While we hope to seek the dearest near. Frozen blossoms in trembling hands,
With shadows of blue and grey,
Counting footsteps back into the heat. The emptiness of many
Is returned in ink and choirs,
With doubt and cherish,
Crowned with blessings all around.”

PoetryPoemWinterChristmasNew YearDecemberWinter QuotesSnowflakesWinter Quotations
Author:Laura Chouette
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“I hear the train’d soprano (what work with hers is this?) The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess’d them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick’d by the indolent waves, I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath, Steep’d amid honey’d morphine, my windpipe throttled in fakes of death, At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles, And that we call Being.”

PoetryPoem1800s
Book:Song of Myself
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