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Poem Quotes

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Poem Quotes

“Oggi che t’aspettavo non sei venuta. E la tua assenza so quel che mi dice, la tua assenza che tumultuava nel vuoto che hai lasciato, come una stella. Dice che non vuoi amarmi. Quale un estivo temporale s’annuncia e poi s’allontana, così ti sei negata alla mia sete. L’amore, sul nascere, ha di questi improvvisi pentimenti. Silenziosamente ci siamo intesi. Amore, amore, come sempre, vorrei coprirti di fiori e d’insulti.”

Poem
Book:Poesie
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“In the depths of contemplation, we encounter the curiosities of reality: the way a breeze can carry whispers of ancient stories, the rustling leaves speaking a language only the soul can comprehend. Each droplet of rain becomes a prism through which we glimpse reflections of ourselves, fragmented yet whole. We reclaim forgotten pieces of our identity in the most unexpected places-a fleeting smile from a stranger, the scent of pine on a winter’s night, the laughter of children echoing in the distance. These ephemeral moments remind us that the present is a mosaic, intricately crafted from the past yet ever vibrant with potential.”

PoetryPoemPoetry QuotesPoemsProsePoetry LifeProse Poetry
Book:Interrelation and Other Works
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“MEIN PIS CHUKA HUN Duniya ki iss reet se, Rishton ki iss preet se, Mooh se, man meet se, Mein pis chuka hun. Jhuti muskurahat mein, Dil ki her chaahat mein, Dard ki is parwaahat mein, Mein pis chuka hun. Mitti se bane wajood mein, Sapnon ke thake usool mein, Aansu ki har boond mein, Mein pis chuka hun. Guzar gayi jo rahein thi, Khwabon ki jo baahein thi, Khoye hue fasane ki raahein thi, Mein pis chuka hun. Duniya ke rangon se door hoon, Apne hi rang mein choor hoon, Bas khamoshi mein purzor hoon, Mein pis chuka hun. Khatam hui umeedon ki baat, Rishton ka har pyaala saath, Dil ke har zakhm ki baat, Mein pis chuka hun. Mujhe yun hi rehne do ab, Apni tanhaayi mein jeene do ab, Is fasane se rukhsat lene do ab, Kyunki, mein pis chuka hun.”

LifePoemNazmHindishayari
Author:Janid Kashmiri
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“Before getting translated, a poem already gets shrunk or expanded within the ‘sphere of intellect’ of the translator in the original language, and it again gets shrunk or expanded within the ‘sphere of intellect’ of the translator in the target language. Thus, in the translation of poetry there exists a possibility of the components like imagination, art of wordplay, skill of constructing internal rhythm and expansion of knowledge of the poet getting affected by the constraint and different methods employed by the translator.”

PoetryLanguagePoemComprehensionReadersTranslationNepaliQuote By Nepali WritersNepali PoetPoet S Mind
Book:भारत शाश्वत आवाज [Bharat Shashwat Aawaz]
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“In the translation of poetry, there exists a possibility of the components like imagination, art of wordplay, skill of constructing internal rhythm and expansion of knowledge of the poet getting affected by the constraint and different methods employed by the translator.”

PoetryLanguagePoemComprehensionReadersTranslationNepaliQuote By Nepali WritersNepali PoetPoet S Mind
Book:भारत शाश्वत आवाज [Bharat Shashwat Aawaz]
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“कविता कविबाट निस्किएर पाठकमा प्रवेश गरेपछि पाठकको चेतनावृत्तमा समाहित हुन्छ । एउटा पाठकले कवितालाई आफ्नो चेतनाभन्दा बाहिर फैल्याएर ग्रहण गर्न सक्दैन, बरू खुम्च्याएर गर्न सक्छ । यसो हुने हुनाले प्रत्येक कविता हरेक पाठकमा पुग्दा कुनै न कुनै रूपमा फेरिएर पुग्ने सम्भावना सँधै रहिरहेको हुन्छ । यो ‘फेरिनु’ प्रकारान्तरले अनूदित हुनु नै हो । त्यसैले कविताको प्रत्येक बुझाइ एउटा अनुवाद हो ।”

PoetryPoemComprehensionAssimilationReadersTranslationNepaliQuote By Nepali WritersNepali PoetPoet S Mind
Book:भारत शाश्वत आवाज [Bharat Shashwat Aawaz]
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“पाठकले कवितालाई आफ्नो चेतनाभन्दा बाहिर फैल्याएर ग्रहण गर्न सक्दैन, बरू खुम्च्याएर गर्न सक्छ ।”

PoetryPoemComprehensionAssimilationReadersTranslationNepaliQuote By Nepali WritersNepali PoetPoet S Mind
Book:भारत शाश्वत आवाज [Bharat Shashwat Aawaz]
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“कविता अर्को भाषामा अनूदित हुनु अघि मूलभाषामै अनुवादकको चेतनाको आकारभित्र खुम्चिने वा फैलिने भइसकेको हुन्छ, अर्को भाषामा अनूदित हुँदा त्यो फेरि अनुवादकको लक्षित भाषाको चेतनावृत्तभित्र अझ खुम्चिने वा अझ फैलिने गर्दछ ।”

PoetryLanguagePoemComprehensionReadersTranslationQuote By Nepali WritersNepali PoetNepali QuotesPoet S Mind
Book:भारत शाश्वत आवाज [Bharat Shashwat Aawaz]
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“कविताको अनुवादमा कविको कल्पनाशक्ति, शब्दकौशल, साङ्गीतिक चेत, ज्ञानको आकार आदि अवयवहरू अनुवादकको सीमितता वा वैशिष्ट्यबाट प्रभावित हुने सम्भावना रहन्छ ।”

PoetryLanguagePoemComprehensionReadersTranslationNepaliQuote By Nepali WritersNepali PoetPoet S Mind
Book:भारत शाश्वत आवाज [Bharat Shashwat Aawaz]
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“कविता अर्को भाषामा अनूदित हुनु अघि मूलभाषामै अनुवादकको चेतनाको आकारभित्र खुम्चिने वा फैलिने भइसकेको हुन्छ, अर्को भाषामा अनूदित हुँदा त्यो फेरि अनुवादकको लक्षित भाषाको चेतनावृत्तभित्र अझ खुम्चिने वा अझ फैलिने गर्दछ । त्यसले गर्दा कविताको अनुवादमा कविको कल्पनाशक्ति, शब्द कौशल, साङ्गीतिक चेत, ज्ञानको आकार आदि अवयवहरू अनुवादकको सीमितता वा वैशिष्ट्यबाट प्रभावित हुने सम्भावना रहन्छ ।”

PoetryLanguagePoemComprehensionReadersTranslationNepaliQuote By Nepali WritersNepali PoetPoet S Mind
Book:भारत शाश्वत आवाज [Bharat Shashwat Aawaz]
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“Farsickness rough translation of fernweh (Ger): the opposite of homesickness. Imagine a love turned out as bread best cast to the rivers, feedings for smaller, far-flung things— fire-flights of stillness, forms alighting, then airborne, until the breeze begins to feel like hunger, the wayward sweep of desire— for the holy wheel rotating foot, breath, and earth, the pilgrim's chaff, frayed and heliocentric, in need of distance as a horizon of prayer to both call and receive.”

PoetryPoemTravelLove PoemWanderlustTravel PoetryFernwehFarsickness
Book:Mapmaking: poems
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“Over the next few years, in the early sixties, everyone in my world was singing Bob Dylan songs. It was as if we were in some worldwide musical stage show and Bob Dylan was writing the lyrics for the entire production. He was writing about freedom, wars, disasters, justice, betrayal, liberty, slavery, outlaws, freight trains, and women; all the usual stuff. And at some point he stopped being a folksinger and a songwriter and he became a warrior poet. For the first time in my life I saw a pen that put swords to shame.”

PoetryPoemBob DylanSixtiesProtest LyricsProtest Song
Book:Early Dylan
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“I am with you, rafēgh (comrade) By Siavash Kasrai Translation: Darya Saudade --- I am with you, rafēgh (comrade), in wherever you are and struggle. I am your neighbor when, beside the window in the evening's gaze, you hum the people’s anthem to yourself. I walk in step with you when, devoted to anxiety and eagerness, you hand out a nightly leaflet to every passerby in the alley, with the ring of every word, you awaken a heart, a city, a whole homeland. I am with you when among the people, like a restless fish in water, you slide and come and seek, and warn the sleeping of the flood coming. I work alongside you when the body is worn out from work, but, in the fields, the factories, you keep working, you keep working. I am your fellow-sufferer when with the caress of your hands you beckon the child to patience, as if awakening a bud from its slumber I am your fellow inmate when you fill the dragging moments with forgotten memories in the corner of your confinement or in the fever of torture and the throes of anguish. No, my soulmate, my comrade, no, I won’t leave you alone, when at an unknown dawn you sacrifice your life for ideals and love. I am with you, rafēgh, I am with you, rafēgh, In wherever I am and struggle. In wherever you are and struggle.”

Poem
Author:Siavash Kasrai
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“Where is the wine that ever forged its glass? None ever, oh, none ever, For garnet contradiction holds it fast. The cup is but a spill belied, And wine englassed is flow denied. Where is the glass that ever made man fall? None ever, oh, none ever, For trampled grape, disordered dream, and all, Drain down his throat like whispered lies, The glass left empty as his eyes. Where is the poison that was in the wine? Forever, oh, forever It claims his veins to be its vine, Its fruit cold stones, its scent stopped breath, For wine’s true form wreathes through his death.”

Poem
Author:S. E. Porter
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“Poetry is much much more than all of the definitions, theories or explanations that you read or hear about everyday. Poetry is not just a form, a quote or one or two popular poets or pop stars in the media. Poetry is not hip hop or gangsta rap, slam or new formalism, gay or straight, white or black, dead or alive. Poetry does not belong either to the streets or the academics. Poetry is not always a love song. Poetry is not always about the rain or nature, mountains or castles. Poetry is neither happy nor depressed, a villain or a hero, a lover or a friend. Poetry is merely poetry for poetry’s sake. But the words are sacred, something sacred which we share. Poetry is a state of consciousness and the mind. Poetry is all of history and is the history of being. Poetry is all of us Poetry is you.”

PoetryPoemPoetry QuotesR M EngelhardtDefinition Of Poetry
Book:OF SPIRIT, ASH & BONE POEMS PARABLES R.M. ENGELHARDT
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“No one would choose to crawl under fences, beaten until your shadow leaves, raped, forced off the boat because you are darker, drowned, sold, starved, shot at the border like a sick animal, pitied. No one would choose to make a refugee camp home for a year or two or ten, stripped and searched, finding prison everywhere. And if you were to survive, greeted on the other side--Go home Blacks, dirty refugees, sucking our country dry of milk, dark with their hands out, smell strange, savage, look what they've done to their own countries, what will they do to ours?”

PoetryDangerPoemRacismPrejudiceImmigrationRefugeesEmigration
Book:Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head
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“There is great freedom in only having yourself. Not having to worry about supporting anyone else, not having to think or make choices with anyone else in mind. But there is still an ache, some days duller than others, some days not felt until the early hours. It will grasp at you when you think about an achievement and receiving an award and you want someone to be in the corner beaming with pride. You think about it over coffee, when no one is looking at you instead of drinking theirs. In the middle of the night when it’s cold and no one is there breathing gently beside you. When you come home and the house is empty, and even if it’s peaceful and quiet, you would like to share your thoughts with someone as they set dinner on the table. The freedom to belong to yourself is beautiful, but it’s also beautiful to look at someone else and know their favorite moment of the day is when you walk into the room.”

Poem
Book:Healing the Heart
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