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ArmenianSurvival View Drop Down
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote ArmenianSurvival Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20-Oct-2005 at 00:14
ok ge, nice work
Mass Murderers Agree: Gun Control Works!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Van_Resistance

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote ok ge Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20-Oct-2005 at 05:30

Originally posted by ArmenianSurvival ArmenianSurvival wrote:

ok ge, nice work

Thank you Armenian Survival. Im glad you liked it too.

D.J. Kaufman
Wisdom is the reward for a lifetime of listening ... when youd have preferred to talk.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Saka Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20-Oct-2005 at 06:53

"And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel
And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour---well,
I often wonder what the Vintners buy
One half so precious as the Goods they sell."

Omar Khayyam

 

Hafez wrote:
"In a garden renew your Zoroastrian faith
In the monastery of the Magi, why they honor us,
The fire that never dies, burns in our hearts
. "

 

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote little tin goddess Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Nov-2005 at 08:47

i've always liked this one, and it is short enough for those not wanting to read books  short but incredibly touching (i think so anyway)

Elegy by WS Merwin

Who would i show it to?

 



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what do i need you for when i have wings to fly?
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote little tin goddess Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Nov-2005 at 08:50

and this one, but off the top of my head i can't rememebr the author, and i think my version of it is a bit wrong, but none the less i think i like my version better lol

Their Love Life

One failure

on top of another

what do i need you for when i have wings to fly?
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Rakhsh Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Nov-2005 at 09:20

Darvish

O Lord! devise a means, whereby in safety my beloved 
May come back and release me from the claw of reproach 
Bring me the dust of the path of that traveled beloved 
That I may make my world-seeing eye her sojourn place 
Justice! For, they have barred my path on six sides. 

Today, when I am in your hand, show a little mercy 
tomorrow, when I become clay, what profit are tears of repentance? 
O thou that of love expressest breath in relating and explaining, 
With thee no word have we save this "prosperity and safety by thine!" 
Darvish! lament not of the sword of friends, 
For this band takenth the blood-price for the slain 
Set fire to the religious garment, for the curve of the Saki's eye-brow 
Shattereth the corner of the prayer-arch of the service of the imam 
God forbid that of your violence and thranny I should bewail 
The injustice of dainty ones is all daintiness and goodness. 
The argument of your tress-tip, Hafiz shorteneth not: 
This chain is joined to the day of resurrection. 

By Hafez, one of my favs

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Rakhsh Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Nov-2005 at 09:21

by me

I die ever time you scream my name, a little more, take my hand and squeeze it a little more and watch me die even more, scream my name and watch me die a some more, hold me tight, kiss me some more and watch me die!
 
I stand in wake for thee, watch the waters gentle caressment of the shore, in wait for thee I stand, as the clouds holds tight over the moon I stand and wait for thee. I die every minute I stand in wait for thee. Alas I will die a 1000 deaths in wait for the, as I stand in wait for thee.
 
Every morning I see your face, smiling at me, I long for thee, I see ye in my dreams, you haunt me in my every step. I see you in the pale moon, your hair glistens as the silver light of the moons sweeps over the land with its silky glow. The distance is closed in seconds, when you come, embrass me my beloved, give me the kiss that seals my fate. Give me the embrase that you taunt me with, teased me with, that dark embrase, kiss me with those blood red lips that we may be in bliss once more, how you have taunted me so many times in my life with this kiss. Kiss me and let me fade into the void, that kiss of nothingness. Embrace me and never let go, let us slip into the darkness and never be known.


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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Rakhsh Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06-Nov-2005 at 09:25
burst thy cage asunder, and even as the phoenix of love soar into the firmament of holiness
 
If poverty overtake thee, be not sad; for in time the Lord of wealth shall visit thee. Fear not abasement, for glory shall one day rest on thee
 
Both by Baha'u'allah


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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Jhangora Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 07-Nov-2005 at 10:10

Herez one of my favourite poems.

 

                                If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!


Rudyard Kipling

http://www.everypoet.com/archive/poetry/Rudyard_Kipling/kipl ing_if.htm

 

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Jhangora Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 15-Nov-2005 at 07:13

Another poem that I've liked since my school days.

The Tyger

 


 

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

                                                                    

                                                                 {William Blake, 1757-1827}

http://home.egge.net/~savory/blake.htm

 



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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Jhangora Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 15-Nov-2005 at 07:22

Another one.I love the last stanza.

 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy

Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
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.

                                                            {Robert Frost}

http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/robertfrost/stoppingby.sh tml

 



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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Exorsis C Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21-Nov-2005 at 14:26

Really nice poems, all of them.

Quote FEMALE POEM

I want a man who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I want him to be gainfully employed,
And when I spend his cash, he not be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
Massages my back and begs to do more.
Oh! For a man who makes love to my mind,
and knows what to answer to "how big is my behind?"
I want this man to love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend

So true...that's most women's dream man.

Here's one that I've liked since the first time I read it:

If I Could

 

My friend,

if I could give you

one thing,

I would give you

the ability to see

yourself

as others see you

then you would realize

what a truly special

person

you are.

 

(Barbara A. Billings)

I've sent it to a couple of my best friends, since it so perfectly describes how I feel about them.

Don't put your mouth into motion before your brain is in gear.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Nagyfejedelem Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 12-Dec-2005 at 13:16
I usually write poems, but sorry mainly in Hungarian. Shall I post some of them?
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote vulkan02 Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 12-Dec-2005 at 21:07
Originally posted by Jhangora Jhangora wrote:

Another poem that I've liked since my school days.

The Tyger

 


 

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

                    &nbs p;          &n bsp;                     &nbs p;          &n bsp;    

                    &nbs p;          &n bsp;                     &nbs p;          &n bsp; {William Blake, 1757-1827}

http://home.egge.net/~savory/blake.htm

 



This is one of my favorite poems ever... but he's not referring to the Tiger as animal... its just a symbolism for fire.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Jhangora Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 14-Dec-2005 at 08:01
In my school textbook there was  sketch of a Tiger at the end of the poem.I used to think the poet was describing a Tiger.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Jhangora Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 14-Dec-2005 at 08:18

She Walks In Beauty

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!

 

                                                                     LORD BYRON

http://quotations.about.com/cs/poemlyrics/a/She_Walks_In.htm

    

 



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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote amir khan Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 14-Dec-2005 at 10:07

 

"Sonnets Of The Portuguese"

Elizabeth Browning

 

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only.  Do not say
"I love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day" -
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so.  Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry, -
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity

 

 

"Invicitus"

William Earnst Henley

Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole. I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears, looms but the horror of the shade, and yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.

 

 

Both quite well known, but nice nevertheless.

 

Peace, Goodwill, and Seasonal Greetings to Everyone

 

 



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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote amir khan Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 14-Dec-2005 at 10:18

 

THE CITY AND THE COUNTRY  GIRL

Moorish Literature

(Anon)

Is true. The women, like unto the stars,
  Are jealous also. Two young virgins met
  The day I saw them, a sad day for them,
  For one was jealous of the other one.
  The citizeness said to the Bedouine:
  "Look at thy similars and thou shalt see
  In them but rustics, true dogs of the camp.
  Now what art thou beside a city girl?
  Thou art a Bedouine. Dost thou not dream
  Of goat-skin bottles to be filled at dawn?
  And loads of wood that thou must daily cut?
  And how thou'rt doomed to turn the mill all night,
  Fatigued, harassed? Thy feet, unshod, are chapped
  And full of cracks. Thy head can never feel
  The solace of uncovering, and thou,
  All broken with fatigue, must go to sleep
  Upon the ground, in soot and dust to lie,
  Just like a serpent coiled upon himself.
  Thy covering is the tatters of old tents,
  Thy pillow is the stones upon the hearth.
  All clad in rags thou hast a heavy sleep
  Awaking to another stupid day.
  Such is the life of all you country folk.
  What art thou then compared to those who live
  In shade of walls, who have their mosques for prayer
  Where questions are discussed and deeds are drawn?"
  The Arab woman to the city girl
  Replied: "Get out! Thou'rt like a caverned owl.
  And who art thou beside the Arab girls,
  The daughters of those tribes whose standards wave
  Above brave bands of horsemen as they speed?
  Look at thy similars. The doctor ne'er
  Can leave their side. Without an illness known
  They're faded, pale, and sallow. The harsh lime
  Hath filled thy blood with poison. Thou art dead,
  Although thou seem'st alive. Thou ne'er hast seen
  Our noble Arabs and their feats of strength,
  Who to the deserts bring prosperity
  By their sharp swords! If thou could'st see our tribe
  When all the horsemen charge a hostile band,
  Armed with bright lances and with shields to break
  The enemy's strong blow! Those who are like
  To them are famed afar and glorified.
  They're generous hosts and men of nature free.
  Within the mosques they've built and lodgings made
  For tolba and for guests. All those who come
  To visit them, bear gifts away, and give
  Them praises. Why should they reside in town
  Where everything's with price of silver bought?"
  The city girl replied: "Oh, Bedouine,
  Thou dost forget all that thou hast to do.
  Thou go'st from house to house, with artichokes
  And mallows, oyster-plants, and such,
  Thy garments soaked all through and through with grease.
  This is thy daily life. I do not speak
  Of what is hid from view. Thy slanders cease!
  What canst thou say of me? Better than thee
  I follow all the precepts of the Sonna
  And note more faithfully the sacred hours.
  Hid by my veil no eye hath seen my face:
  I'm not like thee, forever in the field.
  I've streets to go on when I walk abroad.
  What art thou, then, beside me? I heard not
  The cows and follow them about all day.
  Thou eatest sorrel wild and heart of dwarf
  Palm-tree. Thy feet are tired with walking far,
  And thy rough hands with digging in the earth."
  "Now what impels you, and what leads you on,"
  The country girl of city girl inquired,
  "To outrage us like this and say such words
  Against us, you who are the very worst
  Of creatures, in whom all the vices are
  Assembled? You are wicked sinners all,
  And Satan would not dare to tell your deeds.
  You are all witches. And you would betray
  Your brother, not to speak of husbands. You
  Walk all unguarded in the street alone,
  Against your husband's will. And you deny
  Your holy faith. The curse of heav'n will weigh
  Upon you when you go to meet your God.
  Not one of you is honest. O ye blind
  Who do not wish to see, whence comes your blindness?
  You violate the law divine, and few
  Among you fear the Lord. 'Tis in the country,
  Amid the fields, that women worship God.
  Why say'st thou that the city women sole
  Are pious? Canst thou say my prayers for me?"
  "What pleasure have the country girls?" replied
  The city girl. "They've no amusements there.
  There's nothing to divert the eyes. Their hands
  They do not stain with henna, setting off
  A rounded arm. Rich costumes they wear not,
  Which cost some hundred silver pieces each,
  Nor numerous garments decked with precious stones.
  They are not coifed with kerchiefs of foulard
  With flowers brocaded. Neither have they veils
  Nor handkerchiefs of silk and broidered gold.
  They never have a negress nurse to bring
  Their children up and run on services
  Throughout the house. And yet they boast as loud
  As any braggart. Why bring'st thou the charge
  That I a blameful life do lead, whilst thine
  Deserves reproof? Dirt in the country holds
  Supreme control. The water's scarce enough
  To drink, with none left for the bath. The ground
  Serves you as bed, and millet is your food,
  Or rotten wheat and barley."
                                Then took up
  The word, and spoke the Arab woman dark:
  "Who are thy ancestors? Which is thy tribe
  Among all those that fill the mighty world?
  You're only Beny Leqyt, and the scum
  Of people of all sorts. Thou call'st thyself
  A city woman. What are city men?
  Thy lords don't slander folk. 'Tis only those
  Who come whence no one knows who have so rude
  A tongue. Thou wouldst insult me, thou, of stock
  Like thine, with such a name abroad! And thou
  Wouldst taunt a Qorechyte, a Hachemite
  Of glorious ancestors who earned their fame.
  Tis proper for a woman born of such
  A stock illustrious to vaunt herself
  Upon her origin. But thou, a vile
  Descendant of a conquered race!
                                "Thou call'st
  Thyself a Sunnite, yet thou knowest not
  The three great things their Author gave to us:
  (He knows all secrets.) First is Paradise,
  Then the Koran, and then our Prophet great,
  Destroyer of false faiths and for all men
  The interceder. Whosoe'er loves him
  Doth love the Arabs, too, and cleaves to them.
  And whosoe'er hates them hates, too, in truth,
  The chosen one of God. Thou hatest him,
  For thou revil'st my ancestors, and seek'st
  To lower their rank and vilify their fame.
  Think on thine evil deeds, against the day
  When in thy grave thou'lt lie, and that one, too,
  When thou shalt rise again, insulter of
  The Arabs, king of peoples on the earth."
  "The Arabs I do not at all despise,"
  The city woman said, "nor yet decry
  Their honor, and 'tis only on account
  Of thee I spoke against them. But 'tis thou
  Who hast insulted all my family, and placed
  Thy race above. He who begins is e'er
  At fault, and not the one who follows. Thou
  The quarrel didst commence. Pray God, our Lord,
  To pardon me, as I will pray him, too,
  And I the Arabs will no more attack.
  If they offend me I will pardon them
  And like them for our holy prophet's sake.
  I shall awake in Paradise some day.
  From them 'tis given, far beyond all price.
  Frankly, I love them more than I do love
  Myself. I love them from my very heart.
  He who a people loveth shall arise
  With them. And here's an end to all our words
  Of bickering and mutual abuse."
  I told them that it was my duty plain
  To reconcile them. I accorded both
  Of them most pure intentions. Then I sent
  Them home, and made agreeable the way.
  Their cares I drove away with honeyed words.
  I have composed the verses of this piece,
  With sense more delicate than rare perfume
  Of orange-flower or than sugar sweet,
  For those kind hearts who know how to forgive.
  As for the evil-minded, they should feel
  The zeqqoum. With the flowers of rhetoric
  My song is ornamented: like the breast
  Of some fair virgin all bedecked with stones
  Which shine like bright stars in the firmament.
  Some of its words will seem severe to those
  Who criticise. I culled them like unto
  A nosegay in the garden of allusions.
  May men of lion hearts and spirit keen--
  Beloved by God and objects of his care--
  Receive my salutations while they live,
  My countless salutations.
                                I should let
  My name be known to him who's subject to
  The Cherfa and obeys their mighty power.
  The mym precedes, then comes the written ha.
  The mym and dal complete the round and make
  It comprehensible to him who reads
  Mahomet. May God pardon me this work
  So frivolous, and also all my faults
  And errors. I place confidence in him,
  Creator of all men, with pardon free
  For all our sins, and in his mercy trust,
  Because he giveth it to him who seeks.
  The country girl and city girl appeared
  Before the judge, demanding sentence just.
  In fierce invectives for a while they joined,
  But after all I left them reconciled.


 

(Apologies for its length)

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Jhangora Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20-Dec-2005 at 05:27

The Vagabond

Give to me the life I love,
Let the lave go by me,
Give the jolly heaven above
And the byway nigh me.
Bed in the bush with stars to see,
Bread I dip in the river
There's the life for a man like me;
There's the life for ever.

Let the blow fall soon or late,
Let what will be o'er me;
Give the face of earth around
And the road before me.
Wealth I seek not, hope nor love,
Nor a friend to know me;
All I seek, the heaven above
And the road below me.

Or let autumn fall on me
Where afield I linger,
Silencing the bird on tree,
Biting the blue finger.
White as meal the frosty field -
Warm the fireside haven -
Not to autumn will I yield,
Not to winter even!

Let the blow fall soon or late,
Let what will be o'er me;
Give the face of earth around,
And the road before me.
Wealth I ask not, hope nor love,
Nor a friend to know me;
All I ask the heaven above,
And the road below me.

                                                         Robert Louis Stevenson

                                                       "Songs of Travel"

http://www.rampantscotland.com/poetry/blpoems_vagabond.htm

Jai Badri Vishal
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