Všečne pesmi

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Všečne pesmi

Objavlja  Nendie on Ned Nov 02, 2008 5:02 pm

V threadu je zapisana poezija, topica pa še kar od nikoder, pa se mi zdi, da bi lahko zalaufal ... V glavnem, poezija in pesniki/pesnice ki so vam všeč ... zelo fajno bi bilo, če se napiše tudi kakšna pesem, zraven pa obvezno avtorja, da se širi horizonte. Wink

Ena malce daljša, od Wisławe Szymborske. Smile

Voda

Dežna kaplja mi je padla na roko,
odtočena iz Gangesa in Nila,

iz v nebo vzetega ivja z brkov mroža,
iz vode razbitih vrčev v mestih Ys in Tir.

Na mojem kazalcu
je Kaspijsko morje odprto,

Tihi ocean pa se krotko izliva v Rudawo,
prav to, ki je plula v ovčici nad Parizom

leta sedemsto šestinšestdesetega,
sedmega maja ob treh zjutraj.

Usta so premalo, da bi izgovorila
tvoja spremenljiva imena, o voda.

Morala bi te imenovati v vseh jezikih,
izgovoriti vse samoglasnike hkrati

in istočasno molčati - za jezero,
ki ni dočakalo nobenega imena

in ga ni na zemlji - kot na nebu ni
zvezde, ki v njem odseva.

Nekdo se je utapljal, nekdo vzdihoval po tebi
v smrtni uri. Bilo je davno in bilo je včeraj.

Gasila si hiše, hiše odnašala
in drevesa, gozdove in mesta.

Bila si v krstilnicah in kadeh kurtizan.
V poljubih in mrliških prtih.

Glodala si kamen, mavrico pojila.
V znoju in rosi piramid, bezga.

Kako je vse lahko v dežni kaplji.
Kako nežno me objema svet.

Karkoli se je kadarkoli kjerkoli godilo,
vse je zapisano v babilonski vodi.

Nendie

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Re: Všečne pesmi

Objavlja  anavrin on Čet Nov 06, 2008 1:51 pm

hja...KOSOVEL
bowdown bowdown bowdown
...za danes sem to izbrala (ena izmed njegovih najljubših men osebno)



Krik po samoti

Da bi se mogel vase skriti,
živeti nikomur, nikomur poznan,
da bi se mogel poglobiti
v tiho prelivanje mraka in sanj!

Da bi z ulice mogel oditi
pijan tega šuma, hitenja pijan,
vase, v vesoljstvo se potopiti,
začutiti eno se z Njim, a zaman!

V množici sem, ki se giblje, upira,
bolan sem, tako sem se že izkričal,
v množici sem, ki ugaša, umira,
k zmagi hitim in vem, da bom pal;
in šele ko pala bo name sekira,
čutim, kako bom za Njim zaječal.
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anavrin

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Re: Všečne pesmi

Objavlja  nastija on Pet Nov 21, 2008 9:07 pm

Ivan Minatti: KO SE ZAVEŠ

Ko se zaveš,
Da si odveč in sam,
Se je neka ura v vesolju
Ustavila:
Tvoja.
Pojdi tedaj,
Zavleci se kot poginjajoča žival
V svoje samoto votlino,
Med sveče kapnikov
Izjalovljenih upanj in pričakovanj,
V brezna padcev,
V labirinte brezuspešnih iskanj,
V izsušeno strugo življenja.
Hladne lovke osamljenosti
Bodo poslej izsesavale upočasnjeno kri
Tvojega bednega životarjenja.
Brez smisla bo čas pronical v lijake brezčasja.
S sigo pozabe
Te bodo prekrivale njegove kaplje
In te spreminjale v okamenelega spačka
Neprepoznavnega sebi in drugim.
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nastija

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Re: Všečne pesmi

Objavlja  anavrin on Tor Dec 09, 2008 9:34 pm

EDGAR ALAN POE - RAVEN


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
as of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
from my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more!

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
and so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before,
but the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
that one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking,
fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
to the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
on the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
but whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
and the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor -
Shall be lifted - nevermore!



(ufffffffffffffffffffffffff) bowdown bowdown bowdown bowdown bowdown
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