Verbatim

[thamizhvaanan]

I liked the "storm" poem too. Nice poem, replete with visual and aural imagery. Is this is what is called as painting with words? You have good felicity of words.... keep it up

darkening shadow
sits high on misting pane

pitted sands,
petals, dewy-sliced
lay pierced remains
of the thieving drunk

his beckoning words thrumming on taut string
the tapping syllables within the tin can tring

[crazy]

As doth eternity. Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty"---that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

[Querida]

Crazy I'm glad you enjoyed Keat's poem. These are my very favourite (and pivotal) stanzas of Keat's poem:

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,
Pipe to the spirit dities of no tone.
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal---yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss
Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

[Querida]

Thamizh, you know sometimes all it takes is one line, though I'm not a fan of Emily Dickinson that one line in some poem i now forget was enough to keep me awake until I thought out this poem.Thanks again for your appreciation.

[crazy]

Crazy I'm glad you enjoyed Keat's poem. These are my very favourite (and pivotal) stanzas of Keat's poem:

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,
Pipe to the spirit dities of no tone.
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal---yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss
Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

i never read this before..............its very beautiful

[thamizhvaanan]

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,
Pipe to the spirit dities of no tone.

My english master took two hours to explain these 4 lines And regarding those final few lines, I still dont get the correct meaning

[Querida]

final few lines of what you quoted? of which stanza are you referring too?...the greatest regret was the day that my more than capable prof was to teach this poem he let our teaching assistant (who unfortunatly was quite green) to take on Shelley's "Adonais: An Elegy on the Death of John Keats" which he made a mess of

maybe this link may help Thamizh, do check it out:

http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/en...i/cs6/urn.html

[Querida]

Dear mother...
why do you shun me so?
you overwhelm me with your tears.
you push me away with innumerable whispers.
you make me tremble
until i am all but lost of my senses.
Poisoned you make me when you are ill.

The hunters have come, yet have not gone;
they are too strong to merely hide.

Yes it is we who have embitterned our thirst.
Ingest all with a questioning.
hear all with selective hesitation.


it is only when my brothers richly run away
that they became damned.
it is only when my sisters don't give way
that they became mine.

Mother you are my eden
that is why i strive to perfect you.

do not forsake your mercy,
my own mother,
for we will only take what you cannot hide.

[Querida]

somewhere i follow steps
that i already know are to be made
i can only pause but still on i must go

somewhere in me
lies something still unbroken
yet that was too long ago
and too far have i thrown
that precious key away

somewhere speaks a mute voice
that once sent sweet rejoice
ever letting me believe
in what i seldom understand
is true yet trusted with a heart
too tender to realize
anything else.

[crazy]

Mother you are my eden
that is why i strive to perfect you.

do not forsake your mercy,
my own mother,
for we will only take what you cannot hide

Beautiful