Dreams poems

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Lament For Ignacio Sanchez Mejias

© Federico Garcia Lorca

Tell the moon to come,
for I do not want to see the blood
of Ignacio on the sand.

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City That Does Not Sleep

© Federico Garcia Lorca

One day
the horses will live in the saloons
and the enraged ants
will throw themselves on the yellow skies that take refuge in the
eyes of cows.

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Romance Son?mbulo

© Federico Garcia Lorca

Green, how I want you green.
Green wind. Green branches.
The ship out on the sea
and the horse on the mountain.

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The Unheeded Pageant

© Rabindranath Tagore

Ah, who was it coloured that little frock, my child, and covered
your sweet limbs with that little red tunic?
You have come out in the morning to play in the courtyard,
tottering and tumbling as you run.

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The Gardener LXVIII: None Lives For Ever, Brother

© Rabindranath Tagore

None lives for ever, brother, and
nothing lasts for long. Keep that in
mind and rejoice.
Our life is not the one old burden,

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The Gardener LI: Then Finish the Last Song

© Rabindranath Tagore

Then finish the last song and let us
leave.
Forget this night when the night is
no more.

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The Gardener IV: Ah Me

© Rabindranath Tagore

Ah me, why did they build my
house by the road to the market
town?
They moor their laden boats near

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She

© Rabindranath Tagore

She who ever had remained in the depth of my being,
in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses;
she who never opened her veils in the morning light,
will be my last gift to thee, my God, folded in my final song.

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Paper Boats

© Rabindranath Tagore

Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of
the village where I live.

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My Song

© Rabindranath Tagore

This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like
the fond arms of love.
This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of
blessing.

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Maya

© Rabindranath Tagore

That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides,
thus casting colored shadows on thy radiance
---such is thy Maya.

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Lover's Gifts XLVII: The Road Is

© Rabindranath Tagore

The road is my wedded companion. She speaks to me under my feet all
day, she sings to my dreams all night.
My meeting with her had no beginning, it begins endlessly at
each daybreak, renewing its summer in fresh flowers and songs, and

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Lover's Gifts XLII: Are You a Mere Picture

© Rabindranath Tagore

Are you a mere picture, and not as true as those stars, true as
this dust? They throb with the pulse of things, but you are
immensely aloof in your stillness, painted form.
The day was when you walked with me, your breath warm, your

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Lover's Gifts XL: A Message Came

© Rabindranath Tagore

A message came from my youth of vanished days, saying, " I wait for
you among the quivering of unborn May, where smiles ripen for tears
and hours ache with songs unsung."
It says, "Come to me across the worn-out track of age, through

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Lover's Gifts LVIII: Things Throng and Laugh

© Rabindranath Tagore

Things throng and laugh loud in the sky; the sands and dust dance
and whirl like children. Man's mind is aroused by their shouts; his
thoughts long to be the playmates of things.
Our dreams, drifting in the stream of the vague, stretch their

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Let Me Not Forget

© Rabindranath Tagore

If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
---let me not forget for a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.

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To Silvia

© Giacomo Leopardi

Silvia, do you remember
the moments, in your mortal life,
when beauty still shone
in your sidelong, laughing eyes,

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Anorexic

© Eavan Boland

Flesh is heretic.
My body is a witch.
I am burning it.

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The Growth of Love

© Robert Seymour Bridges

So in despite of sorrow lately learn'd
I still hold true to truth since thou art true,
Nor wail the woe which thou to joy hast turn'd
Nor come the heavenly sun and bathing blue
To my life's need more splendid and unearn'd
Than hath thy gift outmatch'd desire and due.

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Nightingales

© Robert Seymour Bridges

Beautiful must be the mountains whence ye come,
And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom
Ye learn your song:
Where are those starry woods? O might I wander there,
Among the flowers, which in that heavenly air
Bloom the year long!