Download - When You Are Old
When You Are Old
by William Butler Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of
sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down
this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft
look
Your eyes had once, and of their
shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad
grace,
And loved your beauty with love false
or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in
you,
And loved the sorrows of your
changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing
bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains
overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of
day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is
right,
Because their words had forked no lightning
they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how
bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a
green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in
flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its
way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with
blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be
gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad
height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears,
I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
Do not stand at my grave and weep:
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starshine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry:
I am not there; I did not die.
Song
by Christina Rossetti
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
Ivan Goran Kovačić:
Jama
I.
Krv je moje svjetlo i moja tama.
Blaženu noć su meni iskopali
Sa sretnim vidom iz očinjih jama;
Od kaplja dana bijesni oganj pali
Krvavu zjenu u mozgu, ko ranu.
Moje su oči zgasle na mome dlanu.
Sigurno još su treperile ptice
U njima, nebo blago se okrenu;
I ćutio sam, krvavo mi lice
Utonulo je s modrinom u zjenu;
Na dlanu oči zrakama se smiju
I moje suze ne mogu da liju.
Samo kroz prste kapale su kapi
Tople i guste, koje krvnik nađe
Još gorčom mukom duplja koje zjapi -
Da bodež u vrat zabode mi slađe:
A mene dragost ove krvi uze,
I ćutio sam kaplje kao suze.
Posljednje svjetlo prije strašne noći
Bio je bljesak munjevita noža,
I vrisak, bijel još i sad u sljepoći,
I bijela, bijela krvnikova koža;
Jer do pojasa svi su bili goli
I tako nagi oči su nam boli.
O bolno svjetlo, nikad tako jako
I oštro nikad nisi sinulo u zori,
U strijeli, ognju; i ko da sam plako
Vatrene suze s kojih duplje gori:
A kroz taj pako bljeskovi su pekli,
Vriskovi drugih mučenika sjekli.
Ne znam, koliko žar je bijesni trajo,
Kad grozne kvrge s duplja rasti stanu,
Ko kugle tvrde, i jedva sam stajo.
Tad spoznah skliske oči na svom
dlanu
I rekoh: "Slijep sam, mila moja mati,
Kako ću tebe sada oplakati..."
A silno svjetlo, ko stotine zvona
Sa zvonika bijelih, u pameti
Ludoj sijevne: svjetlost sa Siona,
Divna svjetlost, svjetlost koja svijeti!
Svijetla ptico! Svijetlo drvo! Rijeko!
Mjeseče! Svjetlo ko majčino mlijeko!
Al ovu strašnu bol već nisam čeko:
Krvnik mi reče: "Zgnječi svoje oči!"
Obezumljen sam skoro preda nj kleko,
Kad grč mi šaku gustom sluzi smoči;
I više nisam ništa čuo, znao:
U bezdan kao u raku sam pao.
Човек пева после рата
Ја сам газио у крви до колена,
И немам више снова.
Сестра ми се продала
И мајци су ми посекли седе косе.
И ја у овом мутном мору блуда и кала
Не тражим плена:
Ох, ја сам жељан зрака! И млека!
И беле јутарње росе!
Ја сам се смејао у крви до колена,
и нисам питао: зашто?
Брата сам звао душманом клетим,
И кликтао сам кад се у мраку напред хрли,
И онда лети к врагу и Бог, и човек, и ров!
А данас мирно гледам како ми жељену
жену
губави бакалин грли,
и како ми с главе разноси кров; -
и немам воље – ил немам снаге – да му се
светим.
Ја сам до јуче покорно сагибо главу
И бесно сам љубио срам.
И до јуче нисам знао судбину своју праву –
Али је данас знам!
Ох, та ја сам Човек! Човек!
Није ми жао што сам газио у крви до
колена
и преживео црвене године клања,
ради овог светог сазнања
што ми је донело пропаст.
И ја не тражим плена:
Ох, дајте мени још само шаку зрака
И мало беле, јутарње росе –
Остало вам на част!
Душан Васиљев
She Walks in Beauty BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my
head”
“Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones;
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they are better than the
tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale:
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me;
And, were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.”
“In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here
in rest,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned grudges; here are no
storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!”
Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity;
And, being so, shall have like want of pity.
These words are razors to my wounded
heart.
“The curves of your lips rewrite history.”
“It might be that to surrender to
happiness was to accept defeat, but it was
a defeat better than many victories.”
“Once upon a time there was a boy who
loved a girl, and her laughter was a
question he wanted to spend his whole
life answering.”
“In spite of everything, I still believe
people are really good at heart.”
"Memories warm you up from the inside but they also
tear you apart"
“The pieces I am, she gather them and
gave them back to me in all the right
order.”
“We cross our bridges as we come to
them and burn them behind us, with
nothing to show for our progress except a
memory of the smell of smoke, and the
presumption that once our eyes watered.”
“There are darknesses in life and there
are lights, and you are one of the lights,
the light of all lights.”
“I have spread my dreams under your
feet; / Tread softly because you tread on
my dreams”
“It frightened him to think what must
have gone to the making of her eyes.”
“I wondered if that was how forgiveness
budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany,
but with pain gathering its things, packing
up, and slipping away unannounced in the
middle of the night.”
“One must be careful of books, and what
is inside them, for words have the power
to change us.”
“It does not do well to dwell on dreams
and forget to live, remember that.”
“I loved her against reason, against promise, against
peace, against hope, against happiness, against all
discouragement that could be.”
I wish it need not have happened in my time," said
Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see
such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we
have to decide is what to do with the time that is
given us.”
"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional."
Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
“Filled with rapture, his soul yearned for
freedom, space, vastness. Over him the
heavenly dome, full of quiet, shining stars,
hung boundlessly. From the zenith to the
horizon the still-dim Milky Way stretched its
double strand. Night, fresh and quiet, almost
unstirring, enveloped the earth. The white
towers and golden domes of the church
gleamed in the sapphire sky. The luxuriant
autumn asleep till morning. The silence of
the earth seemed to merge with the silence
of the heavens and the mystery of the earth
touched the mystery of the stars.”
“We loved with a love that was more than
love.”
Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fast, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.
“It had flaws, but what does that matter
when it comes to matters of the heart? We
love what we love. Reason does not enter
into it. In many ways, unwise love is the
truest love. Anyone can love a thing
because. That’s as easy as putting a penny
in your pocket. But to love something
despite. To know the flaws and love them
too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”
“And now here is my secret, a very simple
secret: It is only with the heart that one can
see rightly; what is essential is invisible to
the eye.” The Little Prince
“Not all those who wander are lost.” - J.R.R.
Tolkien
“the only people for me are the mad ones,
the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk,
mad to be saved, desirous of everything at
the same time, the ones who never yawn or
say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn,
burn like fabulous yellow roman candles
exploding like spiders across the stars.”
“What we love in our books are the depths
of many marvelous moments seen all at one
time”
Teller, teller, tell me a tale
of love and fear and duty,
I want to die in the arms of love
I want to die for beauty,
For beauty is the only truth
and death the only lie,
I want to sing a final tale
and love before I die
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
And in that moment, I swear we were
infinite
Whatever our souls are made of, his
and mine are the same.
He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
“And neither the Angels in Heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea, Can
ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the
beautiful Annabel Lee … .
“Deep in earth my love is lying, and I must
weep alone.”
Forgetfulness heals everything and song is the
most beautiful manner of forgetting, for in
song man feels only what he loves.”
“Zaborav sve leči, a pesma je najlepši način
zaborava, jer u pesmi se čovek seća samo
onoga što voli.”
“They entered there into the unconscious
philosophy of the town; that life was an
incomprehensible marvel, since it was
incessantly wasted and spent, yet none the
less it lasted and endured 'like the bridge on
the Drina'.”
“Tako se na kapiji, između neba, reke i brda,
naraštaj za naraštajem učio da ne žali preko
mere ono što mutna voda odnese. Tu je u njih
ulazila nesvesna filozofija kasabe: da je život
neshvatljivo čudo, jer se neprestano troši i
osipa, a ipak traje i stoji čvrsto "kao na Drini
ćuprija".”
“All halls lead somewhere. Where there is a
way in, there is a way out. Fear cuts deeper
than swords.”
“All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes”
“Never forget what you are, for surely the
world will not. Make it your strength, then it
can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in
it and it can never be used to hurt you.”
“You want to know the horrible truth ?
I cant even remember what she looked like! I
only know she was the one thing I ever
wanted..and 7 kingdoms couldnt fill the hole
she left behind
Njen brat Regar je umro zbog žene koju je
voleo.
"Can a man still be brave when he's afraid?"
"That's the only time a man can be brave."
Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail, and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are
given a chance to climb, but they refuse. They cling to the realm, or the Gods or love... illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is “Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.”
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
“And who are you, the proud Lord said
that I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
that's all the truth I know.
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
a lion still has claws.
And, mine are as long and sharp, my Lord
as long and sharp as yours.
And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that Lord of Castamere,
but now the rains weep o'er his hall,
with no one there to hear.
Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall,
and not a soul to hear.”
The things we love destroy us every time, lad.
Remember that.”
“What is honor compared to a woman's love?
What is duty against the feel of a newborn son
in your arms . . . or the memory of a brother's
smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We
are only human, and the gods have fashioned
us for love. That is our great glory, and our
great tragedy.”
“And I have a tender spot in my heart for
cripples and bastards and broken things.”
“Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna, and
thousands died for it.”
“I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to
her.” “You did,” Ned reminded him. “Only
once,” Robert said bitterly.
Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest
of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in
the water and with his last breath murmured a
woman's name.
In my dreams, I kill him every night. A
thousand deaths will still be less than he
deserves.
If you think this has a happy ending, you
haven’t been paying attention
Say it. You raped her. You murdered her. You
killed her children. You raped her! You murdered
her! You killed her children!
'Tis a big and beautiful world. Most of us live and
die in the same corner where we were born and
never get to see any of it. I don't want to be most
of us.
"Goodbye, my friend,
goodbye"
Goodbye, my friend, goodbye
My love, you are in my heart.
It was preordained we should part
And be reunited by and by.
Goodbye: no handshake to endure.
Let's have no sadness — furrowed brow.
There's nothing new in dying now
Though living is no newer.
Original in Russian:
До свиданья, друг мой, до свиданья.
Милый мой, ты у меня в груди.
Предназначенное расставанье Обещает
встречу впереди.
До свиданья, друг мой, без руки, без
слова, Не грусти и не печаль бровей,- В
этой жизни умирать не ново, Но и
жить, конечно, не новей.
Жди меня, и я вернусь.
Только очень жди,
Жди, когда наводят грусть
Желтые дожди,
Жди, когда снега метут,
Жди, когда жара,
Жди, когда других не ждут,
Позабыв вчера.
Жди, когда из дальних мест
Писем не придет,
Жди, когда уж надоест
Всем, кто вместе ждет.
Жди меня, и я вернусь,
Не желай добра
Всем, кто знает наизусть,
Что забыть пора.
Пусть поверят сын и мать
В то, что нет меня,
Пусть друзья устанут ждать,
Сядут у огня,
Выпьют горькое вино
На помин души...
Жди. И с ними заодно
Выпить не спеши.
Жди меня, и я вернусь,
Всем смертям назло.
Кто не ждал меня, тот пусть
Скажет:- Повезло.-
Не понять не ждавшим им,
Как среди огня
Ожиданием своим
Ты спасла меня.
Как я выжил, будем знать
Только мы с тобой,-
Просто ты умела ждать,
Как никто другой.
Ты можешь ничего не говорить,
Не мучаться, не каяться, не ждать.
Ты можешь окончательно забыть
И никогда меня не вспоминать.
Ты можешь не сжимать до боли руки,
Не прижимать меня к своей груди,
Не сетовать на долгие разлуки
И не гадать, что будет впереди.
Ты можешь быть смешным и суеверным,
Курить от скуки, жадно пить вино.
Ты можешь быть гулящим и неверным,
Но я с тобой останусь все равно.
Ты можешь не играть своей судьбою,
Не звать меня в дорогу за собой.
Ты можешь не узнать, что лишь тобою
Жила я до минуты гробовой.
Ты можешь не дарить мне обещаний,
Не уверять, что я навек твоя.
Ты можешь не искать со мной свиданий
Да и не помнить вовсе про меня.
Ты можешь быть отвергнутым,
презренным,
Я не устану никогда любить.
Ты можешь быть гулящим и неверным,
Ты можешь ничего не говорить.
I know why the caged bird sings
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the
sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-
bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of
dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
Dreams
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.