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 Poetry

An outlet for players whose creativity extends beyond the board. Post your original works here!

The posting of song lyrics is not the purpose of this board and as such please refrain from doing so. Exceptions can be made to this rule if you are the copyrighted owner of the lyrics and the lyrics are not found offensive by the majority of the population.
This board is a place to post your original works of poetry and prose and also a place for discussion of poetry and related areas.

We have received word from Fencer that other's poetry can be posted to this board. These are the two conditions:
1) When someone posts a known copyrighted poem, he must add the author's name as well
2) If the author is not known, the poem can be posted without problems


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4. April 2006, 02:29:01
Expired 
Emne: Re:
ΜīήďSрŷ: Is this s poem? Reads more like a text, but a beautifully written one.

4. April 2006, 02:16:36
ΜīήďSрŷ 
Tilpasset af ΜīήďSрŷ (4. April 2006, 02:21:06)
There are times when you have to let go of the love you have grown so used to.
There are times when joyous moments turn flatly undesirable, dreams for the future cease, only to be forgotten.

In these times a heart that once beat in harmony with the universe, now is hallow, and echoes hurt.
The heart falls on hard ground, shattering, scattered pieces, later turning to dirt.

There are times love turns to hate, caring is no longer necessary, and comfort goes away.

Now lord, I ask this of you. Can you bring my heart back from the dirt? Take away every ounce of echoed hurt? Replace the comfort; the caring, the joyous moments I so loved?

My lord, now finally I can feel peace. Now I can leave this world, my heart hurts no more.
The lord has answered my prayers, giving me everything I have asked for.

MindSpy

2. April 2006, 07:22:21
The Usurper 
Emne: Re: A friend is Poisoned
Nomad: Unspeakably good my friend.

1. April 2006, 20:17:18
Nomad 
Emne: A friend is Poisoned
A friend is Poisoned

On my own, by some others accord,
Where the tumbleweeds fade away and die,
Before the glassy sun burns a summer of crystals,
The glistering waters of the high seas
Of which was so far a place as of where vultures roam.
I looked around but you weren't anywhere...
You used to say that you would never die,
But I took the wrong meaning into my heart.
Now the sea is wild with despair,
Deep blue like a prairie of flowers blue,
Where all children of God rest in eternal peace.
I saw you at the end,
You and I, siblings of nature,
Siblings of heaven and earth,
Your usually calm and heavenly eyes full of tears,
Bitterly falling one after one into a river,
Then the river of life turned red in blood.
My eyes watched in horror.
Slowly and deadly your heart became poisoned,
You disappeared without saying good-bye,
Not a word came out of your mouth.
You became like desolation in its grave.
When once the skies were a realm of stars
And the sun shone brightly in summer skies,
You were there to share the calmness;
But now I stand here in midst of the tall grass
And only the I remain.

The Nomad MAY 2003

31. Marts 2006, 15:57:19
The Usurper 
Emne: Re: Contemplation
Stardust: Excellent.

And right on the money.

30. Marts 2006, 15:46:36
Stardust 
Emne: Contemplation
Serving
Time

Arrows pierce the heart
Reactions are mixed

Dawn has arrived
Until tomorrow the
Sun will rise
Together with the joy

Indeed life moves forward
Surrounding us

2

30. Marts 2006, 13:14:16
Stardust 
Emne: Re: Just Quick one I threw together
Nomad: Wow!
It's good to see your writings again my Friend!

YFA

30. Marts 2006, 10:05:46
The Usurper 
Emne: Re: Just Quick one I threw together
Nomad: Awesome as always.

And so true.

30. Marts 2006, 01:08:49
Nomad 
Emne: Just Quick one I threw together
OLD Wounds

Things left unsaid
Heads and heart detach
Eyes forever seeing

None see the light
Only what they want
Minutes slip by
Absent from glory
Destined for mistakes

Are we with purpose
Now that we have bore our souls.
Do the moon shadows know our fears.

United for all of time
Searching evermore
Unforgining in task
Restless by nature
Porpose driven
Endless valor
Ruthless to those without compassion

Alive in shadows
Retreating to the dark
Enduring all assaults

Be warned that the rainman
Always takes his victim
Cause and effect
Kicking you when you least expect it

29. Marts 2006, 13:13:52
The Usurper 
Emne: One of my favorites
S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.


LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.


--T.S. Eliot: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

10. Marts 2006, 10:44:27
Stevie 
Emne: Re: Dylan
Tilpasset af Stevie (10. Marts 2006, 10:53:36)
Tuesday: hehehhehe http://magicroundabout.com/Characters.asp

Click on the Dylan short movie link... for a childrens show,, its not bad having a stoned Rabbit growing magic mushroom LMAO

10. Marts 2006, 01:34:22
Stevie 
Emne: Re: Dylan
Tuesday: Talking of Dylan,,, I miss The magic Roundabout hehehe

9. Marts 2006, 20:04:14
Radiant2008 :-) 
Emne: Re: Dylan
Hi (((((Tuesday)))))) loved your poem and im so sorry you have to miss your buddy Dylan now. I have a kitten myself and he is adorable.. can't think of him not being around anymore... Thank you for sharing your loss.. God bless!

5. Marts 2006, 05:58:15
anastasia 
Emne: Re:
Tuesday: jeez,just make me cry,why don't ya,lol

2. Marts 2006, 01:28:29
Ewe 
Emne: Re:
Tuesday:

8. Februar 2006, 16:53:51
Winnie 
Emne: sense the nature
is it!?

4. Februar 2006, 21:41:57
Eriisa 
Emne: Re: sense the nature
Winnie:

That exactly tells me why I love the countryside!

4. Februar 2006, 21:40:53
Eriisa 
LOL. looks like the moral is "Don't depend on the cook to help you in your plots"



4. Februar 2006, 20:25:51
Expired 
I have chosen for you some of my favorites in your own language:

Carroll, Lewis

Brother and Sister

"Sister, sister, go to bed!
Go and rest your weary head."
Thus the prudent brother said.

"Do you want a battered hide,
Or scratches to your face applied?"
Thus his sister calm replied.

"Sister, do not raise my wrath.
I'd make you into mutton broth,
As easily as kill a moth!"

The sister raised his beaming eye,
And looked on him indignantly
And sternly answered, "only try!"

Off to the cook he quickly ran.

"Dear cook, please lend a frying-pan,
To me as quickly as you can."

"And wherefore should I lend it to you?"
"The reason, cook, is plain to view.
I wish to make an Irish stew."

"What meat is in that stew to go?"
"My sister'll be the contents!"
"Oh!"

"You'll lend the pan to me cook?"
"No!"

*******************************


LOl! I didn't get anything from that peom!

Any morals? May be: Never stew your sister!


Are you and your brother in such 'pan and meat' relationship Winnie? LOL.

4. Februar 2006, 20:00:25
Winnie 
Emne: sense the nature
Listen
hear the breeze,
the running water'
the birds tweeting,
the flys buzzing,
The crickets chirping,
The fish swimming,
The dragon flies humming,
The butterflies fluttering.

Feel,
The silky flowers,
the soft breeze,
the gentle grass,
The warm sunlight

Smell
The fresh grass,
The scented roses,
the fresh air

30. Januar 2006, 18:49:38
Expired 
Oh I just checked the link PhatPlaya gave about Hafiz. That's his poems in English. Excellent link. Thanks.

30. Januar 2006, 18:48:11
Expired 
Yes. Hafez, or as you call him, Hafiz (!) is the most popular poet in Iran an dhis work is magnificent in a word. Though to understand it, you must know enough Farsi and be familiar with our culture. I do recommend having a search on him and trying to find some of his work in English, if there's any good translation, that is.

30. Januar 2006, 17:58:28
PhatPlaya 臭臭小指 
Tilpasset af PhatPlaya 臭臭小指 (30. Januar 2006, 17:59:21)
For those interested, some more on Farsi poetry.

Farsi Poetry from Afghanistan

Persian Poetry in Farsi

I like this one:
Hafiz, a poet who lived in the 14th century.

30. Januar 2006, 01:01:36
Expired 
Emne: Re:
Eriisa: Sure. When I have the time. Those two posts took me 3 hours to type!

30. Januar 2006, 00:57:57
Eriisa 
I found a couple of interesting teaching sites as I was googling. ok, getting off topic tho.

Reza, can we have some more?

30. Januar 2006, 00:56:34
Expired 
Emne: Re: Farsi lyric
Radiant Aunt: The link is quite fine. Thanks Eriisa. My language, and as you said Arabic, share the same alphabet but are spoken quite differently. Arabic has 28 letters but Farsi has 32.

29. Januar 2006, 21:29:36
Eriisa 
http://www.farsinet.com/farsi/ I think this will answer that. Reza, is this page accurate?

29. Januar 2006, 20:26:53
Radiant2008 :-) 
Emne: Re: Farsi lyric
رضا: Is this Arabic language or a language written and spoken in the area/region you live?

29. Januar 2006, 13:51:54
Expired 
Emne: Re:
harley: Nope, that's how I could translate the text. It's not even close to teh original meaning. Just the surface meaning is there! To understand teh art in that poem, you must be a native speaker!

29. Januar 2006, 13:47:31
harley 
Emne: Re:
رضا: No problem at all to send it to anyone who wants by email.
Thats a great explanation, is it your own interpretation of it or a standard text?

29. Januar 2006, 09:06:14
Expired 
And now the meaning:

Oh Fatherland, Oh creator of History

(Iran is known to have 10.000 years of civilization, so the poet says it's the 'mother' of history or the creator of it.)

Oh the land whose soil I am in need of (and am bound to)

Oh, your desert is my soul's heaven


(in Farsi desert is a place in which no plant grows and in Iran we have plenty of it. The poet says that even the deserts of Iran are as good as the heaven to him)

Oh my eternal Love, Oh my Iran

Oh, (the land which) my roots have been given life to by you.


(the poet says that he's a tree and its roots are living by the life Iran has given them)

Except thinking of you, I have no other thinking.

You have a certain man named Arash, who's famous for shooting arrows


(A very famous poet in Iran, named Ferdosi, has a very very famous book named Shahnameh, and Arash is one of the main charecters in the book an dis very skillful at shooting arrows using his bow)

And a Bahram, famous for killing and huntin lions

(Bahram is another charecter of Shahnameh, and is very powerful and hunts lions as a hoby with his hands!)

A Kavey Ahangar who finally kills Zahhak

(These two are two more charecters of Shahnameh and Zahhak is a very cruel king whose shoulders have been kissed by teh devil and two snakes have grown on them the food of which is only human brain. So Zahhak has to kill people and empty their skulls and give their brains to te snakes and is finally killed by Kaveh who's a Black Smith.)

(and is) Very powerful and teh killer of those who are impure in their souls.

A horse named Rakhsh, and a very powerful man named Rostam who rides it,


(Rostam and Rakhsh are again from that book and the very main charecters. Rostam is very powerful and fights against the evil powers.)

that your enemies cannot even dream of them (Rakhsh and Rostam) in their sleeps.

(you also have) Soldiers who are very brave and keep the borders and are not afraid of death (and are willing to sacrifice their loves for the country)

And armies whose soldiers stand in rows (armed and ready)

They (the soldiers) even bothered the plains and rivers (by roaming an dfighting on them)

and took back Khorramshahr


(Khorramshahr is acity in southern Iran, that was ocupied by Iraqi soldiers during the eight years of war between Iran and Iraq, but finally we took it back.)

Oh my fatherland, oh my modest mother

(The word 'Iran' means modest or modesty in its roots. here the poet uses the word not as thename of a country, but as an adjective for the word mother)

Oh the mother of my fathers an dmy children,

Oh my home, my land,

Each part of your soil, even as small as a palm of a hand, is as dear and precious to me as are my sister, wife and mother.


(In Iran men are very caring about the women who are in their family an dtehy mean most precious to them)

I never want to see you in ruins,

I never want to see your plains empty of lions


(here the poet has likened the soldiers to lions and says that he wants to see teh country always full of those who guard it.)

If your soil no longer exists, I wish for my life to vanish too.

I also wish that (if your soil is no longer ours and you're not name diran anymore) no person remains alive in the entire country.


.
.
.

Fatherland means all water and all soil
(all that there is in Iran is my fatherland, be it soil or water)

fatherland means Love, and pure love (not just any love)

Means a cradle when you're a baby

And the solution to your problems when you get old

Father land means : father, mother, all ansectors

To vow to the blood and soil (that you'll remain loyal to the country)

Fatherland means identity, genitor and root

the beginning, the end and all eternity.


.
.
.

(it means) Sepid ( river in Iran) and rocks and the sea and all plains

Aras, Zayanderood, Arvand, Karoon (all rivers in Iran)

fatherland means the home of Turks (Iran's north-west) up to the home of Pars (Iran's south-east)

Fatherland means teh gulf that'll remain named Fars for ever


(Arabs recently wanted to change its name to Arab gulf instead of Persian-Fars-gulf!!)

Fatherland means forgetting about your life (and getting ready to die for teh country)

And reaching very tough-to-cross places

(In the war between Iran and Iraq, there were some places that no human could normally pass, such as mountains, but our soldiers did it!)

washing the land off from tyranny and enmity,

By the warm blood in the public bath of Fin.


(this talks about a man named Amir kabir who fought against the king of Iran in about 300 years ago an dwas finally killed in a bath named Fin by having the vessles in his hands cut. Poet says that his warm blood washed away the cruelty from Iran.)

Fatherland means saying the prayers in love

means cleaning the dust from Love,

Fatherland means goal, means courage

means honor, means martyrdom

Fatherland means teh past, the present and teh future

All a nation has from the entire world

Fatherland means, be it in ruins or flourishing,

fatherland means right here, means Iraaaaan.

fatherland means getting rid of fire (war) and blood (that's shed in war)

The anger of Kaveh an dFereydoon (two of the charectors in Shahnameh, who conquered cruel kings in their time)

fatherland means what Simorgh would be telling now


(Simorgh is a legendary bird from Shahnameh who is very wise and helps Rostam with his missions)

and it means what happened on Zhalezar (square in Tehran, in which our ex-king, Shah, orderd his soldiers to open fire on innocent people before our revolution)

it means moving the army to Khuzestan ( a place in Iran)

And accepting martyrdom very easily and willingly

saying prayers while covered in blood to the city of Blood


(Khoramshahr is a city in Iran and the word 'khoram' means green and full of trees. In war, many people were killed in this sity and peopel chnged its name to 'Khuninshahr.' Khunin means full of blood.)

making the enemy back off from Khoramshahr

Fatherland means saying the prayers in love

means cleaning the dust from Love,

Fatherland means goal, means courage

means honor, means martyrdom

Fatherland means teh past, the present and teh future

All a nation has from the entire world

Fatherland means, be it in ruins or flourishing,

fatherland means right here, means Iraaaaan

Iraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan

29. Januar 2006, 07:46:47
Expired 
This I think is the very first time that I post on this board.

And for you, I have chosen a piece of Farsi lyric, the corresponding song to which you can ask from Harley. If she wishes to and it is no problem with her, she can send it to you via e-mail or something? (sorry Harley for the trouble)

Here's the Farsi text, then its pronounciation in English, and then it's meaning, to the best of my abilities. Farsi songs and lyrics and generally poetry, are very much culturally bound. I assure you if you ever can understand a Farsi poem, you'll hardly ever be interested in other poems unless they're real masterpieces!

*******************************


ای وطن ، ای مادر تاريخ ساز
ای مرا بر خاک تو روی نیاز
ای کوير تو بهشت جان من
عشق جاويدان من ، ايران من
ای ز تو هستی گرفته ريشه ام
نيست جز اندیشه ات انديشه ام
آرشی داری به تير انداختن
دست بهرامی به شير انداختن
کاوه ی اهنگری ضحاک کش
پتک دشمن افکنی ناپاک کش
رخشی و رستم بر او پا در رکاب
تا نبيند دشمنت هرگز به خواب
مرزداران دلير جان به کف
سرفرازان سپاهت صف به صف
خون به دل کردند دشت و نهر را
باز گرداندند خرمشهر را
ای وطن ای مادر ايران من
ماذر اجداد و فرزندان من
خانه ی من ، بانه ی من ، طوس من
هر وجب از خاک تو ناموس من
ای دريغ از تو که ويران بينمت
بيشه را خالی ز شيران بينمت
خاک تو گر نيست ، جان من مباد
زنده در اين بوم و بم يک تن مباد
.
.
.
وطن يعنی همه آب و همه خاک
وطن يعنی همه عشق و همه پاک
به گاه شير خواری ، گاهواره
به دور درد پيری عين چاره
وطن يعنی پدر ، مادر ، نياکان
به خون و خاک بستن عهد و پيمان
وطن يعنی هويت ، اصل ، ريشه
سرآغاز و سرانجام و هميشه
.
.
.
سپيد و صخره و دريا و هامون
ارس ، زاينده رود ، اروند ، کارون
وطن يعنی سرای ترک تا پارس
وطن يعنی خليج تا ابد فارس
وطن يعنی دو دست از جان کشيدن
به تنگستان و دشتستان رسيدن
زمين شستن ز استبداد و از کين
به خون گرم در ، گرمابه ی فِن
وطن يعنی اذان عشق گفتن
وطن يعنی غبار از عشق رفتن
وطن يعنی هدف ، يعنی شهامت
وطن يعنی شرف ، يعنی شهادت
وطن يعنی گذشته ، حال ، فردا
تمام سهم يک ملت ز دنيا
وطن يعنی چه آباد و چه ويران
وطن يعنی همين جا ، يعنی اِيران
وطن يعنی رهايی ز آتش و خون
خروش کاوه و خشم فريدون
وطن يعنی زبان حال سيمرغ
حديث ژاله زار و بار سيمرغ
سپاه جان به خوزستان کشيدن
شهادت را به جان ارزان خريدن
نماز خون به خونين شهر خواندن
مهاجم را ز خرم شهر راندن
وطن يعنی اذان عشق گفتن
وطن يعنی غبار از عشق رفتن
وطن يعنی هدف ، يعنی شهامت
وطن يعنی شرف ، يعنی شهادت
وطن يعنی گذشته ، حال ، فردا
تمام سهم يک ملت ز دنيا
وطن يعنی چه آباد و چه ويران
وطن يعنی همين جا ، يعنی اِيران

ايـــــــــــــــــران

*************
********************

ٍNow the pronounciation!

/ae/ = 'a' as in cAt
/e/ = 'e' as in bEt
/o/ = 'o' as in wOrd
/a:/ = long 'aa' sound as in bAr.
/u:/ = long 'oo' sound as in bOOt
/i:/ = long 'ii' sound as in flEE
/y/ = 'y' sound as in Yet
/kh/ = how 'r' is pronounced in 'entRez'
/gh/ = how 'r' is pronounced in meRci
/sh/ = the normal 'sh' as in SHop
/j/ = 'j' as in Jar
/ch/ = the normal 'ch' as in CHair
/i/ = 'i' as in sIt
/zh/ = how 'g' is pronounced in garaGe or 's' in televiSion.

*********************

/ey vae'taen, ey 'ma:daere ta:'ri:kh 'sa:z/

/ey mae'ra: baer 'kha:ke to 'ru:ye ni'ya:z/

/ey 'kaevi:re to be'heshte 'ja:n e maen/

/eshghe ja:'vi:da:ne maen, 'i:ra:ne maen/

/ey ze to has'ti: geref'te ri:'she aem/

/ni:st joz aendi:'she aet, aendi:'she aem/

/a:'raeshi da:'ri: be ti:r aen'da:khtaen/

/daes'te baeh'ra:mi: be shi:r aen'da:khtaen/

/ka:'veye a:'haengaeri: zaeh'ha:k 'kosh/

/pot'ke dosh'maen aef'kaeni: na:'pa:k 'kosh/

/'raekhshi o ros'taem baer u: pa: daer re'ka:b/

/ta: 'naebi:naed dosh'maenaet haer'gez be kha:b/

/maerzda:'ra:ne dae'li:re ja:nbe'kaef/

/saerfaera:'za:ne se'pa:haet saef be saef/

/khun be del kaer'daend daesh'to naehr ra:/

/ba:z gaerdan'daend khorraem'shaehr ra:/

/ey 'vaetaen, ey 'ma:daere i:'ra:ne maen/

/'ma:daere aj'da:do faer'zaenda:ne maen/

/'kha:neye maen, 'ba:neye maen, 'tu:se maen/

/haer vae'jaeb aez 'kha:ke to na:'mu:se maen/

/ey dae'ri:gh aez to ke vi:'ra:n bi:'naemaet/

/bi:'she ra: kha:'li: ze shi:'ra:n bi:'naemaet/

/kha:'ke to gaer ni:st, 'ja:ne maen mae'ba:d/

/zen'de daer in bu:'mo baem yek taen mae'ba:d/

/vae'taen yaen'i: hae'me 'a:bo hae'me kha:k/

/vae'taen yae'ni: hae'me 'eshgho hae'me pa:k/

/be 'ga:he shi:r'kha:ri: 'ga:hva:re/

/be 'dore daer'de pi:'ri: 'eyne cha:'re/

/vae'taen yae'ni: pe'daer, ma:'daer, niya:'ka:n/

/be khu:'no kha:k baes'taen 'aehdo pey'ma:n/

/vae'taen yae'ni: hovi:'yaet, aesl, ri:'she/

/'saera:gha:zo saeraen'ja:mo hae'mi:she/

/se'pi:do saekhr'eo daer'ya:o ha:'mu:n/

/ae'raes, za:yaende'ru:d, aer'vaend, ka:'ru:n/

/vae'taen yae'ni: sae'ra:ye tork ta: pa:rs/

/vae'taen yae'ni: khae'li:je ta: 'aebaed fa:rs/

/vae'taen yae'ni: do daest aez ja:n kaeshi:'daen/

/be taenges'ta:no daesh'testa:n raesi:'daen/

/zae'min shos'taen ze esteb'da:do aez kin/

/be 'khu:ne gaerm daer, gaerma:'beye fi:n/

/vae'taen yae'ni: ae'za:ne eshgh gof'taen/

/vae'taen yae'ni: gho'ba:r aez eshgh rof'taen/

/vae'taen yae'ni: hae'daef, yae'ni: shaeha:'maet/

/vae'taen yae'ni: shae'raef, yae'ni: shaeha:'daet/

/vae'taen yae'ni: gozaesh'te, ha:l, faer'da:/

/tae'ma:me 'saehme yek mel'laet ze don'ya:/

/vae'taen yae'ni: che a:'ba:do che vi:'ra:n/

/vae'taen yae'ni: haemin'ja:, yae'ni: i:'ra::::::::::n/

/vae'taen yae'ni: rae'ha:yi: za:'taesho khu:n/

/kho'ru:she ka:'veo khaesh'me ferey'du:n/

/vae'taen yae'ni: za'ba:ne 'ha:le si:'morgh/

/hae'di:se zha:le'za:ro 'ba:re si:'morgh/

/se'pa:he ja:n be khu:zes'ta:n kaeshi:'daen/

/shaeha:'daet ra: be ja:n aer'za:n khaeri:'daen/

/nae'ma:ze khu:n be khu:nin'shaehr kha:n'daen/

/moha:'jem ra: ze khorraem'shaehr ra:n'daen/

/vae'taen yae'ni: ae'za:ne eshgh gof'taen/

/vae'taen yae'ni: gho'ba:r aez eshgh rof'taen/

/vae'taen yae'ni: hae'daef, yae'ni: shaeha:'maet/

/vae'taen yae'ni: shae'raef, yae'ni: shaeha:'daet/

/vae'taen yae'ni: gozaesh'te, ha:l, faer'da:/

/tae'ma:me 'saehme yek mel'laet ze don'ya:/

/vae'taen yae'ni: che a:'ba:do che vi:'ra:n/

/vae'taen yae'ni: haemin'ja:, yae'ni: i:'ra::::::::::n/

/i:'ra::::::::::::::::::::::
:::n/

****************

Whew! That's long! I really got tired! I've been at this for an hour and a half so far!

I'll post the meaning in another message, just in case BK doesn't allow long posts!

25. Januar 2006, 14:39:36
Nirvana 
To a Haggis

Happy Burns Night, 25th January.

(Thanks to Baconjoe in Glasgow for this link)

22. Januar 2006, 17:03:52
LuckyCat9 
Emne: Hark Hark, The Dogs Do Bark
Hark hark the dogs do bark
The beggars are coming to town
Some in rags and some in jags
And one in a velvet gown

22. Januar 2006, 17:08:27
ScarletRose 

22. Januar 2006, 13:40:57
Skyking 
Emne: CLASH AND ENDURE MY SOLDIER BOY
Many lives have been lost
But all battles will be won at all cost
Flares in what was a blue and white sky
Now means a good man may die
All our commanders leading
And the infantry bleeding
Through the mud,we went
All covered with mud of an awful scent
Shoving our weapons into a trench
The dirty B------,we'd lench
The old tight boot,I wear on my foot,
Has gathered that mud and rock in pursuit
We all yelled,with our evil roars
'We'll kill those little hoars!'
Blood and carlage are everywhere
A smokey cloud fills the air
Growing sick and ghostly pale
I'd fight and must not fail
Scars and sweat lay on my face
The defeated rats,I'd chase
My gun on left,a grenade on right
I was ready for some more fight
The battle,however,rolled on and on
But the enemy just can't lay us down
I cry all day for the conforts of home
This dirty,bloody war is very dumb
To kill another human being
Who's gun I should be fleeing
Should I be the military deserter
Or the liscenced murderer?
I'm weary so I close my eyes
Clasping my hands to the sky
'Dear LORD,why am I here?
This evil war has brought me tear.'
If GOD be with this rugged bunch,
His battle has just begun
We'll go home to our motherland
For a homecoming marching band
Drink wine and dance with our loves
And drop our pistols and guns
by RAYMOND FRENCH

22. Januar 2006, 13:30:54
Skyking 
Emne: IN REMEMBERANCE
'Jump,jump'yelled the pilot,
'Or you shall suffer by fire
I,in a chute,was thrown like a slingshot
Through a massive rain of crossfire
After a forced tug,on my weak frame
I floated gracefully at the air,I cut
And the plane and pilot were aflame
And the rain of bullets,I could not duck
As I hit the ground,just like the plane
I limp several times yet I'm fine
My senses confused of a bleak terrain
Where,there sits a shadow on the sky
As I walked towards it,there sat a German tamk Just sitting on the desert so dead
Left by them escaping'us yanks'
To the sea these Germans fled
In pride,I started the damn thing up
I figured,who'd mind my steal?
What it was,was a German frameup
For there stood an armed German in the field
As I steered the wild piece of machinery
The German was firing his gun
I became amused at the loony's galantry
I soon had this guy on the run'
I must kill this guy'I thought
Till out he flung a grenade
This was a very surpising onslaught
In my iron coffin,ready made
Of course,I died and am glad to be in heaven
Yet,I just had to tell this tale
For our young people,who've forgotten
This bloody war I had unveiled
By RAYMOND FRENCH

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