L’ Horloge

March 27, 2012 Rasel Rana 0 Comments

Tic-tac tic-tac la mort glisse sur l’ horloge
glisse en haut tic-tac Dieu a inventé le temps
Dieu a inventé la mort cette mort est inventée
tout la dément tout autour tic-tac tic-tac
sur les vitres le brouillard coule tel un torrent
les épées cruelles du désespoir tranchent l’espace
et son enveloppe gluante tic-tac tic-tac
la veuve maudit sans cesse l’ horloge
à cause de ses yeux de plus en plus vides
à cause de ses mains gisant sur les cuisses
tic-tac tic-tac
la mort est pressée les minutes raccourcissent
le sable s’écoule dans l’au-delà
tic-tac tic-tac
quelqu’un doit arrêter l’ horloge
quelqu’un doit arrêter la mort

Snezhana Ivanova


Acrostic : Georgiana Augusta Keats

March 24, 2012 Rasel Rana 0 Comments

Give me your patience, sister, while I frame
Exact in capitals your golden name;
Or sue the fair Apollo and he will
Rouse from his heavy slumber and instill
Great love in me for thee and Poesy.
Imagine not that greatest mastery
And kingdom over all the Realms of verse,
Nears more to heaven in aught, than when we nurse
And surety give to love and Brotherhood.

Anthropophagi in Othello's mood;
Ulysses storm'd and his enchanted belt
Glow with the Muse, but they are never felt
Unbosom'd so and so eternal made,
Such tender incense in their laurel shade
To all the regent sisters of the Nine
As this poor offering to you, sister mine.

Kind sister! aye, this third name says you are;
Enchanted has it been the Lord knows where;
And may it taste to you like good old wine,
Take you to real happiness and give
Sons, daughters and a home like honied hive.

John Keats (1795 –  1821)


Acquainted with the Night

March 21, 2012 Rasel Rana 0 Comments

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Robert Frost