Just have a little,
Just a bit.
Enough to make sure,
The heart does not rip.

Faith is for the strong,
Thinking is weak,
So the heart must,
Continue to beat.

Do not lose hope,
Just carry on,
And wait until fate,
Will play its song.

Awakens not my wolf-man to the moon
For that it shines a silver discus full,
For he may rise when clouds the thickest dull
The round moon’s lustre, or when the clock strikes noon.
One sorceress alone doth have the pow’r
T’arouse the beast, and he doth her obey;
And from her side the beast doth never stray,—
So loveth him the witch and the witching hour.
Yet, by my troth, the wolf-man hath no love
For her and hers which greater is than mine:
By daylight, blackest night, or moony shine,
My love doth neither wax nor wane nor rove.
However, unlike the love the beast doth keep,
My love can’t wake, for it doth never sleep.

When you lay before me dead
In such pallid rest,
On those passive lips of thine
Not one kiss I pressed!
Did you wonder-looking down
From some higher sphere-
Knowing how we two had loved
Many and many a year?
Did you think me strange and cold
When I didn’t touch
Even with reverent finger-tips
What I had loved so much?
Ah! when last you kissed me,dear,
Know you what you said?
“Take this last kiss my beloved,
Soon shall I be dead!”
“Keep it for a solemn sigh
Through our love’s long night,
Till you give it back again
On some morning bright.”
So I gave you no caress,
But remembering this,
Warm up on my lips
I keep your last living kiss!

የከንፈር ማህተም

ከዚህ ዓለም ተለይተህ
ፀጥ ረጭ ብለህ
ከፊቴ ተዘርግተህ ሳለህ፣
አልሞከርኩም ምንም፣
የማይላወሱ ከንፈሮቸህን ልስም!
ላይ በአፀደነፍስ ሆነህ
ያሳለፍናቸውን የፍቅር ዓመታት አስበሀ
ይሆን ታዝበህ፣
ወስደህ ይሆን ግምት
ሥታገኝኝ ያለወትሮዬ ጭምት፣
በጣቶቼ ጫፍ ንኳ
የወደድኩትን ማልነካ፣
ግና በመጨረሻ ስትስመኝ
ታስታውስ ይሆን ምን እንዳልከኝ፣
“ውሰጅ ይህን የከንፈር ማሰታወሻ
ተቃርቧል የኔ መጨረሻ!
በፍቅራችን የጨለማ ሠአት
ምልክት ይሁንሽ ምናልባት፣
መልሰሽ አስክትሰጪኝ
አንድ ብሩህ ጠዋት ስታገኚኝ!”
ያልዳበስኩህ ለዚያነው፣
ግን እንዳልከው
ወደኋላ ተመልሼ
መልክቱን አስታውሼ
ያን የመሰነባበቻ የከንፈር ማህተም
ልክ ከንፈሬ ላይ አንዳሳረፍከው
ከነግለቱ ይዤው ነው የምዘልቀው!
(ጁሊያ ካሎሪን) //

Love's Subscription

Oh garden of love, grant me lifetime membership,
Ignore the other subscribers as I offer my passion.
Scribe who tends to the garden hear my plea,
Add me, for here my heart wants to be.
To sing the songs of love's sweet eternity,
While basking in the flowery garden.
Scars of painful wounds healed and forgotten,
Scented roses and petunias fill my senses,
Caressing my mind and heart in peaceful solace.
I seek to dwell here for an eternity in love,
My subscription has no expiration forever slotted.

You can rant,
be angry
and devise plans
for the things you cannot control

but

in the end,
when God pulls you through...
when He empowers you to go through it...

In the end,
your feeling won't matter.

In the end,
praising God is the only response;

In the end,
you are brought to tears
not because it was hard
but because HE IS FAITHFUL.

Hear my cry dear God,
My cry of sorrow.
Do you have any strength I could borrow?

Cause I'm living with a head full of fears.
I've held on to them for all these years.
They've been crawling all inside my head.
And I want to be set free from this horrible side of me.
I want faith. I want your hope. I want it now.
I know for a fact you won't let me down.

These scars aren’t pretty,
but they’re a part of me that will never ever fade away.
These marks tell a story of me down in the valley when I’m hopeless,
and how you reached in with your grace and healed me.
They remind me of your faithfulness and all you brought me through.
These scars teach me that my brokenness is something you can use.
They show me where I’ve been and i’m not there any more.
That’s what scars are for.

You dream of love
And fantasy
I cannot any longer
Because of reality
My face is shadowed
By a memory
While yours glows
From your insanity
The insanity of passion
And the sexuality
Imbedded in a promise
Of fidelity
And a lifetime
Of matrimony
Yes I am past that
But I speak honestly
About life
As a casualty
Of love
And adultery
But I need to believe
In love for me only
But if you cannot
Then let me be lonely