A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form,
It lies on my abandoned breast;
And mocks the heart, which yet is warm,
With cold and silent rest.
I weep--my tears revive it not;
I sigh--it breathes no more on me
Its mute and uncomplaining lot
Is such as mine should be.
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
To Coleridge
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Oh! there are spirits of the air,
And genii of the evening breeze,
And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair
As star-beams among twilight trees
Such lovely ministers to meet
Oft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet.
With mountain winds, and babbling springs,
And moonlight seas, that are the voice
Of these inexplicable things,
Thou dost hold commune, and rejoice
When they did answer thee, but they
Cast, like a worthless boon, thy love away.
And thou hast sought in starry eyes
Beams that were never meant for thine,
Another's wealth tame sacrifice
To a fond faith ! still dost thou pine?
Still dost thou hope that greeting hands,
Voice, looks, or lips, may answer thy demands?
Ah! wherefore didst thou build thine hope
On the false earth's inconstancy?
Did thine own mind afford no scope
Of love, or moving thoughts to thee?
That natural scenes or human smiles
Could steal the power to wind thee in their wiles?
Yes, all the faithless smiles are fled
Whose falsehood left thee broken-hearted;
The glory of the moon is dead;
Night's ghosts and dreams have now departed;
Thine own soul still is true to thee,
But changed to a foul fiend through misery.
This fiend, whose ghastly presence ever
Beside thee like thy shadow hangs,
Dream not to chase the mad endeavour
Would scourge thee to severer pangs.
Be as thou art. Thy settled fate,
Dark as it is, all change would aggravate.
To Night
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Swiftly walk o'er the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave,
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear--
Swift be thy flight!
Wrap thy form in a mantle gray,
Star-inwrought!
Blind with thine hair the eyes of day;
Kiss her until she be wearied out,
Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand--
Come, long-sought!
When I arose and saw the dawn,
I sighed for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee.
Thy brother Death came, and cried,
Wouldst thou me?
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured like a noontide bee,
Shall I nestle near thy side?
Wouldst thou me?--And I replied,
No, not thee!
Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon--
Sleep will come when thou art fled;
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee, beloved Night--
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!
I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert... Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear
My name is Ozymandius, King of Kings,
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
The keen stars were twinkling
And the fair moon was rising among them,
Dear Jane
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till you sung them
Again.
As the moon's soft splendor
O'er the faint cold starlight of heaven
Is thrown,
So your voice most tender
To the strings without soul had then given
Its own.
The stars will awaken,
Though the moon sleep a full hour later,
Tonight;
No leaf will be shaken
Whilst the dews of your melody scatter
Delight.
Though the sound overpowers,
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.
"Old things need not be therefore true,"
O brother men, nor yet the new;
Ah! still awhile the old thought retain,
And yet consider it again!
The souls of now two thousand years
Have laid up here their toils and tears,
And all the earnings of their pain,--
Ah, yet consider it again!
We! what do we see? each a space
Of some few yards before his face;
Does that the whole wide plan explain?
Ah, yet consider it again!
Alas! the great world goes its way,
And takes its truth from each new day;
They do not quit, nor can retain,
Far less consider it again.
The heart asks pleasure first,
And then, excuse from pain;
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;
And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.
Salam to all!!
Ankhon mai jo tehreerain thin
Honton pay woh bol na thay,
Hum thy un k pyar kay ashiq
Per hathon mai kashkol na thay,
Hum nay unko toot kay chaha
Ye unka huq tha laikin,
Wo bhi humko toot kay chahain
Hum itny bhi ANMOL na thay
MAIRI QURBATAIN BHI SARAAB HAIN
YE BHLA HUA JO MILI NAHIN,
TERI DOORIAN BHI AZZAB HAIN
MAIRY DASHT-E-JAAN SY TALI NAHIN,
PS-CHASHM-E-NUM WO ZAROOR HAI
MAIRA DIL JAFAAON SAY CHOOR HAI,
MAIRY RAASTON KA QUSOR HAI
TAIRI MANZILON SAY MILI NAHIN
Phir Youn Hua K Raastay yak'ja Nahi Huay
Woh bhi Ana'Parast Tha, Main bhi Ana'Parast..!!!
<b>
Mera Gharoor Tujhe Kho K Haar Maan Geya
Mein ChoaT Kha K Magar Apni Qadar jaan Geya
Kahin Ufaq Nah MiLa Meri Dasht Gardi Ko
Mein Teri Dhunn Main Bhari Kainaat Chhaan Geya
Khuda K Baad To Be-intaha Andhera Hay....
Teri Talab Main Kahan Tak Nah Mera Dheyan Geya
Jabeen Pe Ball Nah Aaya Ganwa K Dono jahan
Jo Tu Chhinna To Mein Apni Shikast Maan Geya
Badaltay Rang Thay Teri Umang K Ghamaaz
Tu Mujh Say BichhRa To Mein Tera Raaz jaan Geya
Khud Apnay Aap Say Main Shikwa'Sanj Aaj Bhi Hoon
Nadeem Youn To Mujhe Aik jahaan Maan Geya.. ! </b>
Poet *Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi*
PunjaBi ToUcH..
<b><font color="red">
Okha Langda Waqat ViChhoRay Da
Bin Yaar Guzara Kaun Karey
Dunnia To'n Kinara Ho Sakda
Yaraan To'n Kinara Kaun Karey
ik Din Hove Tay Lang Jave
Sari Umer Guzara kaun Kare </font id="red"></b>
BOHAT MASROOF REHTAY HO
SEHER SAY SHAM HONY TK
KOI LAMHA NAHIN MILTA
KOI BAYNAAM SI FURSAT !!
KOI GUMNAAM SI SAA'AT. . .
YUNHI BAITHAY HUAY TANHA
KABHI JO SHAAM HO JAY
KOI LAMHA CHURA LAINA
JO HAMARAY NAAM HO JAY
KEH HUM JAISAY ASEERON KA
KOI TO KAAM HO JAY
BOHAT MASROOF REHTAY HO.....
Ab Khushi Hai Na Koi Ghum Rulaanay Wala
Hum Ne Apana Liya Har Rang Zamaanay Wala
Aik Musaafir K Safar Jaisi Hai Sab Ki Duniya
Koi Jaldi Main, Koi Dair Se Jaanay Wala