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नों मानो एरलुदों
आखाय खेबलुहोलाङै
मानो इन्जुर खेबलुबदों?
देरबाय लावबाय सिख्ला देलों जाबाय
नांगौ मानि नोंना आइ आफा
होफैबाय गोजोनहोनो।
आरोलाय मानोथो फेखन
मा नांबांगौ नोंनोलाय?
मा नांबावगौ?
जानांगौ सिख्ला गोसोआ
सोरबा जोहोलावखौ गोसोखां
बोराबदों आथा-सिथा।
फैगोन दे सना
नों हांखुर दाजा
नोंनि सिदला आं गाहैगोन
संसार गान्थिखौ खाबोगोन।
दाबोराबसै सना
दा बोराबसै।
 Nov 2015 mrmonst3r
Anne Sexton
Darkness
as black as your eyelid,
poketricks of stars,
the yellow mouth,
the smell of a stranger,
dawn coming up,
dark blue,
no stars,
the smell of a love,
warmer now
as authenic as soap,
wave after wave
of lightness
and the birds in their chains
going mad with throat noises,
the birds in their tracks
yelling into their cheeks like clowns,
lighter, lighter,
the stars gone,
the trees appearing in their green hoods,
the house appearing across the way,
the road and its sad macadam,
the rock walls losing their cotton,
lighter, lighter,
letting the dog out and seeing
fog lift by her legs,
a gauze dance,
lighter, lighter,
yellow, blue at the tops of trees,
more God, more God everywhere,
lighter, lighter,
more world everywhere,
sheets bent back for people,
the strange heads of love
and breakfast,
that sacrament,
lighter, yellower,
like the yolk of eggs,
the flies gathering at the windowpane,
the dog inside whining for good
and the day commencing,
not to die, not to die,
as in the last day breaking,
a final day digesting itself,
lighter, lighter,
the endless colors,
the same old trees stepping toward me,
the rock unpacking its crevices,
breakfast like a dream
and the whole day to live through,
steadfast, deep, interior.
After the death,
after the black of black,
the lightness,-
not to die, not to die-
that God begot.
 Nov 2015 mrmonst3r
William Blake
Can I see anothers woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see anothers grief,
And not seek for kind relief.

Can I see a falling tear.
And not feel my sorrows share,
Can a father see his child,
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill’d.

Can a mother sit and hear.
An infant groan an infant fear—
No no never can it be,
Never never can it be.

And can he who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small.
Hear the small bird’s grief & care
Hear the woes that infants bear—

And not sit beside the nest
Pouring pity in their breast.
And not sit the cradle near
Weeping tear on infant’s tear.

And not sit both night & day.
Wiping all our tears away.
O! no never can it be.
Never never can it be.

He doth give his joy to all,
He becomes an infant small,
He becomes a man of woe
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not. thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy maker is not by.
Think not, thou canst weep a tear,
And thy maker is not near.

O! he gives to us his joy.
That our grief he may destroy
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan
 Nov 2015 mrmonst3r
Maha Salman
His tears will never keep me away
for even if he choses to cry an ocean
and drown me with the intensity of his heart
then I will be the sun
blazing intently
evaporating the ocean
and illuminating his heart
with the tranquility of
my love.
almond eyes
seeing more
than i see inside
wild as a wolf
and wide as her mind
blue as the sky
before the stars
come alive
while the artist
takes its time
painting a moon
on dark cotton
and i swear
this world is better
when her eyes are open
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