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Poetry Quotes

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Poetry Quotes

“Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.”

“Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent. When she came to my bed and begged me with sighs not to tempt her towards passion nor actions unwise, I told her I’d spare her and kissed her closed eyes, then unbraided her body of its clothing disguise. While our bodies were nude bathed in candlelight fine I devoured her mouth, tender lips divine; and I drank through her thighs her feminine wine. Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.”

“Blinking and it's dripping, the wet eyes The cold tears or foggy breath Pitter patter, but the melting one The deafening silence, shining My amusement, my curtains The cold, behind the landscape The conscious of aftermath Missing, night lamp lighting A symbolic gesture, raising my arm My bewilderment, this work done The cost of life, my uneven quilts These slurks of cold air, slowly entering By and by grabbed, a handful of curtain Failed to judge, the end of same Eventually, discovered the light Flashing my eyes, my un-dilated pupil The pane partiality covered, but visible The range of Bimar Narsar, like a bride It's blanket of white, flashing everywhere It's been snowing throughout the dark”

“More strange than true. I never may believe These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold: That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt. The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination That if it would but apprehend some joy It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!”

“The artistic creation of the poet, painter, photographer, and writer is a reflection of the artist’s inner world. The agenda of consciousness that spurs all forms of art is not to represent the outward appearance of things, but to portray its inward significance to the creator. A great poem, painting, photograph, and written composition fully express what the creator feels, in the deepest sense, about the distinctively depicted image that captured their imagination.”

“স্বপ্ন পান্ডুলিপি কাছে রেখে ধূসর দীপের কাছে আমি নিস্তব্ধ ছিলাম ব'সে; শিশির পড়িতেছিলো ধীরে-ধীরে খ'সে; নিমের শাখার থেকে একাকীতম কে পাখি নামি উড়ে গেলো কুয়াশায়, — কুয়াশার থেকে দূর-কুয়াশায় আরো। তাহারি পাখার হাওয়া প্রদীপ নিভায়ে গেলো বুঝি? অন্ধকার হাৎড়ায়ে ধীরে-ধীরে দেশলাই খুঁজি; যখন জ্বালিব আলো কার মুখ দেখা যাবে বলিতে কি পারো? কার মুখ? —আমলকী শাখার পিছনে শিঙের মত বাঁকা নীল চাঁদ একদিন দেখেছিলো তাহা; এ-ধূসর পান্ডুলিপি একদিন দেখেছিলো, আহা, সে-মুখ ধূসরতম আজ এই পৃথিবীর মনে। তবু এই পৃথিবীর সব আলো একদিন নিভে গেলে পরে, পৃথিবীর সব গল্প একদিন ফুরাবে যখন, মানুষ র'বে না আর, র'বে শুধু মানুষের স্বপ্ন তখনঃ সেই মুখ আর আমি র'বো সেই স্বপ্নের ভিতরে।”