Quite so beautifully written
There are times when I close my eyes and think
Feels like I’m staring at my shadow without a blink.
Lost in its emptiness profound
As in my fears I get drowned!
All the thoughts that plague my inner self-
What have I done with my life … oh please tell!
Did I dare to dream or did my feet tremble
Or was I wrapped in my own world like a frog in the well!
Unaware of the truth that drives the world.
The truth that brave-hearts in their lives unfurl.
The truth that’s evergreen like a drop of dew:-
The one that says – chase your dreams till they come true!
In this life that never seemed to be of any good!
The violence that ravaged my dear childhood.
Setbacks were too many to stand on my two feet.
An agonizing lot I did try, I really did.
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It is always hard to capture the weather in words
“My heart and my soul are dancing puppets” …. Lovely line
“Songs of a reed flute soothe my mind to play
The dreams, transcendental and blind to play.
My heart and my soul are dancing puppets,
Which you, so ardently, designed to play.
Flame and the wind do sing and dance, and sway,
As the flute breathes the songs which bind, to play,
The birds, who sing, with the blossoms, who sway,
As souls sway with songs intertwined to play.”
Written : 10th January, 2013.
Hmmm…. “Engulfed with today’s pleasure”… Love the line
Charles Pierre Baudelaire was a French poet who produced notable work as an essayist, art critic, and pioneering translator of Edgar Allan Poe. His most famous work, Les Fleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil), expresses the changing nature of beauty in modern, industrializing Paris during the 19th century. Baudelaire’s highly original style of prose-poetry influenced a whole generation of poets including Paul Verlaine, Arthur Rimbaud and Stéphane Mallarmé among many others. He is credited with coining the term “modernity” (modernité) to designate the fleeting, ephemeral experience of life in an urban metropolis, and the responsibility art has to capture that experience.
Charles Pierre Baudelaire poems translated by William Aggeler
You can scorn more illustrious eyes,
sweet eyes of my child, through which there takes flight
something as good or as tender as night.
Turn to mine your charmed shadows, sweet eyes!
Great eyes of a child…
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