Love and Friendship


Love and Friendship

by Emily Bronte


Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.






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I Cannot Live With You




I Cannot Live With You


I cannot live with you,
It would be life,
And life is over there
Behind the shelf

The sexton keeps the key to,
Putting up
Our life, his porcelain,
Like a cup

Discarded of the housewife,
Quaint or broken;
A newer Sevres pleases,
Old ones crack.

I could not die with you,
For one must wait
To shut the other's gaze down,
You could not.

And I, could I stand by
And see you freeze,
Without my right of frost,
Death's privilege?

Nor could I rise with you,
Because your face
Would put out Jesus'.
That new grace

Glow plain and foreign
On my homesick eye,
Except that you, than he
Shone closer by.











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Romance


Romance


Romance, who loves to nod and sing
With drowsy head and folded wing
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been—most familiar bird—
Taught me my alphabet to say,
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child—with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky;
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings,
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away—forbidden things—
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.










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Happiness



Happiness


So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren't saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other's arm.
It's early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn't enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.











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রুবাইয়াত- ১১





রুবাইয়াত- ১১
কাজী নজরুল ইসলাম

দুঃখে আমি মগ্ন প্রভু, দুয়ার খোলো করুণার!
আমায় করো তোমার জ্যোতি, অন্তর মোর অন্ধকার।
স্বর্গ যদি অর্জিতে হয় এতই পরিশ্রম করে-
সে ত আমার পারিশ্রমিক, নয় সে দয়ার দান তোমার।






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হৃদয়ের ঋণ




                           হৃদয়ের ঋণ

                                 ......... হেলাল হাফিজ

আমার জীবন ভালোবাসাহীন গেলে
  কলঙ্ক হবে কলঙ্ক হবে তোর,
খুব সামান্য হৃদয়ের ঋণ পেলে
 বেদনাকে নিয়ে সচ্ছলতার ঘর
বাঁধবো নিমেষে। শর্তবিহীন হাত
  গচ্ছিত রেখে লাজুক দু’হাতে আমি
কাটাবো উজাড় যুগলবন্দী হাত
 অযুত স্বপ্নে। শুনেছি জীবন দামী,
একবার আসে, তাকে ভালোবেসে যদি  
অমার্জনীয় অপরাধ হয় হোক,
 ইতিহাস দেবে অমরতা নিরবধি  
আয় মেয়ে গড়ি চারু আনন্দলোক।
দেখবো দেখাবো পরস্পরকে খুলে  
যতো সুখ আর দুঃখের সব দাগ,  
আয় না পাষাণী একবার পথ ভুলে
 পরীক্ষা হোক কার কতো অনুরাগ।








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