Poezii/versuri preferate

Lebada- Mihai Eminescu :roll:

SONG AT SUNSET. Walt WHITMAN

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1.

Splendour of ended day, floating and filling me!

Hour prophetic--hour resuming the past:

Inflating my throat--you, divine Average!

You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing.

2.

Open mouth of my soul, uttering gladness,

Eyes of my soul, seeing perfection,

Natural life of me, faithfully praising things;

Corroborating for ever the triumph of things.

3.

Illustrious every one!

Illustrious what we name space--sphere of unnumbered spirits;

Illustrious the mystery of motion, in all beings, even the tiniest insect;

Illustrious the attribute of speech--the senses--the body;

Illustrious the passing light! Illustrious the pale reflection on the new

moon in the western sky!

Illustrious whatever I see, or hear, or touch, to the last.

Good in all,

In the satisfaction and _aplomb_ of animals,

In the annual return of the seasons,

In the hilarity of youth,

In the strength and flush of manhood,

In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age,

In the superb vistas of Death.

Wonderful to depart;

Wonderful to be here!

The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood,

To breathe the air, how delicious!

To speak! to walk! to seize something by the hand!

To prepare for sleep, for bed--to look on my rose-coloured flesh,

To be conscious of my body, so happy, so large,

To be this incredible God I am,

To have gone forth among other Gods--those men and women I love.

Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself!

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around!

How the clouds pass silently overhead!

How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun, moon, stars, dart on and

on!

How the water sports and sings! (Surely it is alive!)

How the trees rise and stand up--with strong trunks--with branches and

leaves!

Surely there is something more in each of the trees--some living soul.

O amazement of things! even the least particle!

O spirituality of things!

O strain musical, flowing through ages and continents--now reaching me and

America!

I take your strong chords--I intersperse them, and cheerfully pass them

forward.

I too carol the sun, ushered, or at noon, or, as now, setting,

I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth, and of all the growths of

the earth,

I too have felt the resistless call of myself.

As I sailed down the Mississippi,

As I wandered over the prairies,

As I have lived--As I have looked through my windows, my eyes,

As I went forth in the morning--As I beheld the light breaking in the east;

As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and again on the beach of the

Western Sea;

As I roamed the streets of inland Chicago-whatever streets I have roamed;

Wherever I have been, I have charged myself with contentment and triumph.

I sing the Equalities;

I sing the endless finales of things;

I say Nature continues--Glory continues;

I praise with electric voice:

For I do not see one imperfection in the universe;

And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last in the universe.

O setting sun! though the time has come,

I still warble under you unmitigated adoration.

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Frumoasei..Arana..

To a Stranger

Passing stranger! you do not know

How longingly I look upon you,

You must be he I was seeking,

Or she I was seeking

(It comes to me as a dream)

I have somewhere surely

Lived a life of joy with you,

All is recall'd as we flit by each other,

Fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,

You grew up with me,

Were a boy with me or a girl with me,

I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become

not yours only nor left my body mine only,

You give me the pleasure of your eyes,

face, flesh as we pass,

You take of my beard, breast, hands,

in return,

I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you

when I sit alone or wake at night, alone

I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again

I am to see to it that I do not lose you

Walt Whitman

de-abia pleacasesi... Nu ma mai saturam de ea in clasa a XI-a

"Aici sunt eu

Un solitar,

Ce-a r

Trandafirule cu petalele rosii

Iti mai aduci aminte de mine?

In seara in care radeau albatrosii

O inima tanara batea in tine.

Trandafirule cu petalele rosii

Iti mai aduci aminte de el?

Ne iubea, nu stiu cum, pe-amandoi

Negasind intre noi noci un gol.

Trandafirule cu petalele rosii

Iti mai aduci aminte de noi?

Stateam pe o banca, ascultand visatori

Glasul iubirii ce exista pentru-amandoi.

Dar norii intunecosi au sunat a furtuna

Sabia sufletului sau s-a retras,

Si-am ramas sub potop ca o nebuna

Privind ganditoare la destinul ramas.

Trandafirule cu petalele rosii

Mai priveste o clipa la mine!

E seara si plang albatrosii;

Nu mai sunt pentru el, dar exist pentru tine.

A PSALM OF LIFE - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,--act in the living Present!

Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;--

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor and to wait.

Scara la cer - Marin Sorescu

Un fir de paianjen

At

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