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#garland
Not everyone can be a star no matter how we wish for heavenly light most of us will not illuminate the night those who burn and seem so bright will oft ignite and fall burning cinders merely human after all
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Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 10:15 AM UTC
Marilyn and Judy
Meleager translations Meleager was a Greek poet who lived circa 140-70 BC. Meleager is most famous today for The Garland, an anthology he compiled from epigrammatic poems of his era and earlier. In his preface Meleager assigned each poet the name of a flower, shrub or herb (hence the term "anthology," which means "flower collection"). In his commentary on The Greek Anthology, editor and translator J. H. Merivale said that as a composer of epigrams Meleager was "very far superior" to the authors he included in The Garland. If I am Syrian, what of it? Stranger, we all dwell in one world, not its portals. The same original Chaos gave birth to all mortals. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Love, how can I call on you; does Desire dwell next to the dead? Cupid, that bold boy, never bowed his head to wail. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Love, I swear, your quiver holds only empty air, for all your winged arrows, set free, are now fixed in me. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Love, if you incinerate my soul, touché! For like you she has wings and can fly away! —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch When I see Theron everything’s revealed. When he’s gone all’s concealed. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch When I see Theron everything’s defined; When he’s gone I’m blind. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch When I see Theron my eyes bug out; When he’s gone even sight is in doubt. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Mother-Earth, to all men dear, Aesigenes was never a burden to you, thus rest lightly on him here. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Meleager dedicates this lamp to you, dear Cypris, as a plaything, since it has been initiated into the mysteries of your nocturnal ceremonies. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch I know you lied, because these ringlets still dripping scented essences betray your wantonness. These also betray you— your eyes sagging with the lack of sleep, stray tendrils of your unchaste hair escaping its garlands, your limbs uncoordinated by the wine. Away, trollop, they summon you— the reveling lyre and the clattering castanets rattled by lewd fingers! —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Moon and Stars, lighting the way for lovers, and Night, and you, my mournful Mandolin, my ***** companion ... when will we see her, the little wanton one, lying awake and moaning to her lamp? Or does she embrace some other companion? Then let me hang conciliatory garlands on her door, wilted by my tears, and let me inscribe thereon these words: "For you, Cypris, the one to whom you revealed the mysteries of your revels, Meleager, offers these spoiled tokens of his love." —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Tears, the last gifts of my love, I send drenching down to you, Heliodora. Here on your puddling tomb I pour them out— soul-wrenching tears in memory of affliction, in memory of affection. Piteously, so piteously Meleager mourns you, you still so precious, so dear to him in death, paying vain tributes to Acheron. Alas! Alas! Where is my beautiful one, my heart's desire? Death has taken her from me, has robbed me of her, and the lustrous blossom lies trampled in dust. But Mother-Earth, nurturer of us all ... Mother, I beseech you, hold her gently to your ***** the one we all bewail. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Cupid, the cuddly baby, safe in his mother's lap, chucking the dice one day, gambled my heart away. —Meleager, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Cupid/Eros, the god of love, was the son of the love goddess Venus/Aphrodite, so Meleager is humorously complaining, “Like mother, like cherubic son!” I lie defeated. Set your foot on my neck. Checkmate. I recognize you by your weight; Yes, and by the gods, you’re a load to bear. I am also well aware of your fiery darts. But if you seek to ignite human hearts, **** off with your tinders; mine’s already in cinders. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Silence! They must have carried her off! Who could be so barbaric, to act with such violence, to wage war against Love himself? Quick, prepare the torches! But wait! A footfall, Heliodora's! Get back in my ***** heart! —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: Meleager, translation, ancient Greek, epigram, Heliodora, garland, flower, anthology, Cupid, Eros
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Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 4:32 AM UTC
Meleager translations
Meleager translations Meleager was a Greek poet who lived circa 140-70 BC. Meleager is most famous today for The Garland, an anthology he compiled from epigrammatic poems of his era and earlier. In his preface Meleager assigned each poet the name of a flower, shrub or herb (hence the term "anthology," which means "flower collection"). In his commentary on The Greek Anthology, editor and translator J. H. Merivale said that as a composer of epigrams Meleager was "very far superior" to the authors he included in The Garland. If I am Syrian, what of it? Stranger, we all dwell in one world, not its portals. The same original Chaos gave birth to all mortals. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Love, how can I call on you; does Desire dwell next to the dead? Cupid, that bold boy, never bowed his head to wail. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Love, I swear, your quiver holds only empty air, for all your winged arrows, set free, are now fixed in me. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Love, if you incinerate my soul, touché! For like you she has wings and can fly away! —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch When I see Theron everything’s revealed. When he’s gone all’s concealed. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch When I see Theron everything’s defined; When he’s gone I’m blind. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch When I see Theron my eyes bug out; When he’s gone even sight is in doubt. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Mother-Earth, to all men dear, Aesigenes was never a burden to you, thus rest lightly on him here. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Meleager dedicates this lamp to you, dear Cypris, as a plaything, since it has been initiated into the mysteries of your nocturnal ceremonies. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch I know you lied, because these ringlets still dripping scented essences betray your wantonness. These also betray you— your eyes sagging with the lack of sleep, stray tendrils of your unchaste hair escaping its garlands, your limbs uncoordinated by the wine. Away, trollop, they summon you— the reveling lyre and the clattering castanets rattled by lewd fingers! —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Moon and Stars, lighting the way for lovers, and Night, and you, my mournful Mandolin, my ***** companion ... when will we see her, the little wanton one, lying awake and moaning to her lamp? Or does she embrace some other companion? Then let me hang conciliatory garlands on her door, wilted by my tears, and let me inscribe thereon these words: "For you, Cypris, the one to whom you revealed the mysteries of your revels, Meleager, offers these spoiled tokens of his love." —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Tears, the last gifts of my love, I send drenching down to you, Heliodora. Here on your puddling tomb I pour them out— soul-wrenching tears in memory of affliction, in memory of affection. Piteously, so piteously Meleager mourns you, you still so precious, so dear to him in death, paying vain tributes to Acheron. Alas! Alas! Where is my beautiful one, my heart's desire? Death has taken her from me, has robbed me of her, and the lustrous blossom lies trampled in dust. But Mother-Earth, nurturer of us all ... Mother, I beseech you, hold her gently to your ***** the one we all bewail. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Cupid, the cuddly baby, safe in his mother's lap, chucking the dice one day, gambled my heart away. —Meleager, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Cupid/Eros, the god of love, was the son of the love goddess Venus/Aphrodite, so Meleager is humorously complaining, “Like mother, like cherubic son!” I lie defeated. Set your foot on my neck. Checkmate. I recognize you by your weight; Yes, and by the gods, you’re a load to bear. I am also well aware of your fiery darts. But if you seek to ignite human hearts, **** off with your tinders; mine’s already in cinders. —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Silence! They must have carried her off! Who could be so barbaric, to act with such violence, to wage war against Love himself? Quick, prepare the torches! But wait! A footfall, Heliodora's! Get back in my ***** heart! —Meleager, loose translation by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: Meleager, translation, ancient Greek, epigram, Heliodora, garland, flower, anthology, Cupid, Eros
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This Christmas Doesn't feel like Christmas Until my eyes decorate your cheeks & My teeth hang from your bottom lip like Missile toe.   Although the weather changes & Santa is checking his list. I am patiently waiting for the warm fuzzy feeling I get when I am with you. With my arms stretched around you like Garland There's no place I'd rather be. My cheek pressed against yours like a bulb. My smile stamped in white circling round Full & bubbly, bright red. Long as I am hanging around you, Christmas feels like Christmas
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Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 12:41 PM UTC
Christmas Feels Like Christmas
Small and white, Their scent a delight, Blooms at night. String  them with your hand, In your wedding garland. Pluck these fragile flowers, As offers, On the graves of your loved ones, Light a scented candle when done.
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Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 5:48 AM UTC
Jasmines
In a garden, As beautiful as heaven, At night Jasmine, With white silky lips, Unfolded its perfumed petals, Blossoms in ethereal beauty, With a creamy glow. In the morning the Red Rose in bud, Drenched in dew, Unfurled its petals one by one, On a single stem with its prickly thorn, Sassy and beautiful. Each with an ego of, "I am the best", Their hatred flared, In fumes their scent flowed in waves. The birds and insects looked on, Prayed for peace, Tried to pacify them. Then one day their enmity changed to love. Bees and butterflies sang and chanted love songs, As they sipped their nectar. Soon The Rose proposed, My love, let's get married, For long have we tarried. So the hummingbird flew them to them to a famous wedding planner, To be stringed into garlands, Jasmine for the bride, And The Red Rose for the groom. The couple took their vows, So did The Rose and Jasmine. They made a beautiful pair, And their children were called Jasrose.
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Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
Jasmine and Rose
Sing me a song Under these stars Its being long Time has passed It doesn't matter Now that you here I feel much better Having you near Sitting with you Passing the night Stuck as glue Hugging you tight Wish that tonight Never fades away My world glows bright Having you all the way You are my happiness You are my tear You fill my emptiness And drive away my fear I love you my dear Hope you forever stay Why wait another year I know you'll find us a way To be with me everyday Till then there's a wait For another meet Please don't be late For my garland greet... ©sim
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Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
Garland Greet
In the streets of Mecca and Medina I pray I get lost. Searching my way whole day in heat I will exhaust.__ Who knows after being much tossed and shoved. I may find the stepped paths of my Mustafa beloved.__ I'll garland and decorate those paths with flowers nice; As those will be paths of success leading to paradise.__
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 7:29 AM UTC
Paths of success