#lass - Hello Poetry

Where is that sweet lass With whom I sweetly frolicked Once upon the grass?

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May 3

May 3, 2026 at 8:22 PM UTC

Poetictouch

Once Upon The Grass

Where is that sweet lass With whom I sweetly frolicked Once upon the grass?

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Once there was a lass Planted into a mysterious world Does not know where to go, how to go Three lights later, she was found But it is not the kind of found she desires Is there even a reason of existence You want her to question about her sanity Question about impossibility Question what is underneath Question what is on the other side Do you think to look smart Or do you think because you want to be mentally deranged Does being a product mean, To look unique, to look you know a lot more than anyone Because insane is the new gain Insane is the pain Insanity is my oxygen Does this look art to you Just simply spilling her emotions and rants But in reality she done nothing So how come you label her as a product? Everyday, questioned herself if she is even of worth No matter where angles of skies she looked at , no answers burst If she was born to be secluded Does that mean she is out of this world If she thinks differently Does she have to change the world? Should she be drowned in the pills of schizophrenia To define what real art is? To defy reality? Is this enough If not, then what am I If not a product, then what I disgrace sycophants and know-it-alls alike Except for lucid and heavy dreamers for life Are we bore to create a fantasy Or altogether fall with this society Does living in nomothethic oceans is a mistake Talk about limitless yet senseful imagery Chatter away with debates that activate logic which I do not have What is more likely to balance When there is a whole solar system to laugh at you No, I should see more light But what light shall I find I do not know what is the real definition of every little thing But I worry and think of them They say it is the beauty What beauty Underneath or above Which one did you admire first? Do I have to question my faith Do I have to question everything around me Should I speak like Shakespeare Should I speak colorful in my own language than the language that became my mother's tongue Should I write like an endless dictionary and a multi-faced human Should I count every star accurately until the fall wither me Or produce sounds alive like the city of owls Should I make every human being smile when I cannot smile myself Should I feel nothing but sadness for eternity To pity me when I weave with words Should I play like Arima Should I paint like a museum artist Just to call me a talent Should I perfect my skills of every labor Should success appear to me like magic Should I explain the unexplainable Or should I damage my cerebrum Before I truly feel intelligent Should I dance my life away like the Black Swan Should I be tearing down politicians and teachers Just to feel worthy Just to be recognized in the light I desire Or should I just look in the mirror To check if my blood veins are still flowing Real blood, not just veins of vain Inhaling all the smoke of envy I sin I am flawful I breathe in gold Just to realize it is old Just to realize my self-redeement is stone cold Will you love and be deserved by light like that Will you realize everyone who reads this has been ugly as well Will you realize I am not writing about myself But what we are all afraid to admit the most Because you are only a person And once there was an abnormal lass

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Jan 20, 2019

Jan 20, 2019 at 8:41 AM UTC

insertname

A Lass

Once there was a lass Planted into a mysterious world Does not know where to go, how to go Three lights later, she was found But it is not the kind of found she desires Is there even a reason of existence You want her to question about her sanity Question about impossibility Question what is underneath Question what is on the other side Do you think to look smart Or do you think because you want to be mentally deranged Does being a product mean, To look unique, to look you know a lot more than anyone Because insane is the new gain Insane is the pain Insanity is my oxygen Does this look art to you Just simply spilling her emotions and rants But in reality she done nothing So how come you label her as a product? Everyday, questioned herself if she is even of worth No matter where angles of skies she looked at , no answers burst If she was born to be secluded Does that mean she is out of this world If she thinks differently Does she have to change the world? Should she be drowned in the pills of schizophrenia To define what real art is? To defy reality? Is this enough If not, then what am I If not a product, then what I disgrace sycophants and know-it-alls alike Except for lucid and heavy dreamers for life Are we bore to create a fantasy Or altogether fall with this society Does living in nomothethic oceans is a mistake Talk about limitless yet senseful imagery Chatter away with debates that activate logic which I do not have What is more likely to balance When there is a whole solar system to laugh at you No, I should see more light But what light shall I find I do not know what is the real definition of every little thing But I worry and think of them They say it is the beauty What beauty Underneath or above Which one did you admire first? Do I have to question my faith Do I have to question everything around me Should I speak like Shakespeare Should I speak colorful in my own language than the language that became my mother's tongue Should I write like an endless dictionary and a multi-faced human Should I count every star accurately until the fall wither me Or produce sounds alive like the city of owls Should I make every human being smile when I cannot smile myself Should I feel nothing but sadness for eternity To pity me when I weave with words Should I play like Arima Should I paint like a museum artist Just to call me a talent Should I perfect my skills of every labor Should success appear to me like magic Should I explain the unexplainable Or should I damage my cerebrum Before I truly feel intelligent Should I dance my life away like the Black Swan Should I be tearing down politicians and teachers Just to feel worthy Just to be recognized in the light I desire Or should I just look in the mirror To check if my blood veins are still flowing Real blood, not just veins of vain Inhaling all the smoke of envy I sin I am flawful I breathe in gold Just to realize it is old Just to realize my self-redeement is stone cold Will you love and be deserved by light like that Will you realize everyone who reads this has been ugly as well Will you realize I am not writing about myself But what we are all afraid to admit the most Because you are only a person And once there was an abnormal lass

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Winter lass shows off, Her icicle diamonds; Cold fingers tickle

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Jan 15, 2019

Jan 15, 2019 at 3:09 PM UTC

k-balachandran

Winter lass shows off her diamonds

Winter lass shows off, Her icicle diamonds; Cold fingers tickle

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My sweetheart your fragrance makes me wild After sun set and in full moon your graces styled Your beauty made me most wonderfully beguiled You cherished in spring and spring just smiled Your chastity is represented by your white color This is what I understand and this is what I aver You my sweet heart my jasmine is that charmer My heart sings song of love you are sole dancer Let me cherish the fragrance let me love my love From your innocence you seem to be a little dove I will keep you in my heart henceforth and now My love I am land below and you are sky above Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2016 golden Glow

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Dec 3, 2016

Dec 3, 2016 at 5:11 AM UTC

col-muhammad-khalid-khan

Wild Lass

My sweetheart your fragrance makes me wild After sun set and in full moon your graces styled Your beauty made me most wonderfully beguiled You cherished in spring and spring just smiled Your chastity is represented by your white color This is what I understand and this is what I aver You my sweet heart my jasmine is that charmer My heart sings song of love you are sole dancer Let me cherish the fragrance let me love my love From your innocence you seem to be a little dove I will keep you in my heart henceforth and now My love I am land below and you are sky above Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2016 golden Glow

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. The heat of you, Bairn in my hands, I am strung with you, My song sings out ever To one unbridled listener, A lad as wild as gusty seas And I keen on tighten strings, Casted about thee, four winds And am latched with old moon, My tunes are loudy, unheard of, Sadder than empty airs in hollow Bars, bereft of any joy dancers. Like you I have known love, In gentle touches that swoon And take flight up dizzy reels, I hold you, like fresh newborn, Child of melody an sleepy dove, But still, in swells of driest fears, Unlike you, body of live, heart Wood, colour of striped tiger, Regal structure, unchained, Aged about languid truths, My fingers unleash you, Yet they lock, in frieze, Captive, painting nil Dreams of brood.

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Jul 31, 2016

Jul 31, 2016 at 12:31 AM UTC

rainey-birthwright

Old Fiddle

. The heat of you, Bairn in my hands, I am strung with you, My song sings out ever To one unbridled listener, A lad as wild as gusty seas And I keen on tighten strings, Casted about thee, four winds And am latched with old moon, My tunes are loudy, unheard of, Sadder than empty airs in hollow Bars, bereft of any joy dancers. Like you I have known love, In gentle touches that swoon And take flight up dizzy reels, I hold you, like fresh newborn, Child of melody an sleepy dove, But still, in swells of driest fears, Unlike you, body of live, heart Wood, colour of striped tiger, Regal structure, unchained, Aged about languid truths, My fingers unleash you, Yet they lock, in frieze, Captive, painting nil Dreams of brood.

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She stood breast high amid the corn Clasp’d by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won. On her cheek an autumn flush, Deeply ripen’d;—such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn. Round her eyes her tresses fell, Which were blackest none could tell, But long lashes veil’d a light, That had else been all too bright. And her hat, with shady brim, Made her tressy forehead dim;— Thus she stood amid the stooks, Praising God with sweetest looks:— Sure, I said, Heav’n did not mean, Where I reap thou shouldst but glean, Lay thy sheaf adown and come, Share my harvest and my home. ሩት እስከ ጡቷ ከፍታ የተንጣለለ የበቆሎ ማሳ ውስጥ ገብታ፣ የማለዳው ወርቃማ ጮራ በዙሪያዋ ዘሃውን እያደራ፣ ሠምጣ ቆመች፣ በእጹብ ድንቅ ግርማ እንደፀሐዩ ፍቅረኛ ደጋግማ በጨረር ተስማ ተሸላልማ፡፡ ልክ ከበቆሎ የማሳ ዳራ ብቅእዳለቸ ዓይን የምታስር አበባ የተገኘች ከጠይሞች ጎራ፣ እንደበሠለ ፍሬ እንደጎምራ ጉንጮችዋ ቀልተዋል አፍራ! ብርቅዬ ጥቁር ሐር የፀጉሯ ዛላ ተዘናፍሎ ይስተዋላል ቅንጦቿዋን ደገፍ ደገፍ ብሎ፣ ግና የዓይኖቿ ሽፋሽፍት ብርሃን እምቅ አድርገዋል ድብቅ አሊያ በጣም የሚያንፀባርቅ! የኮፍያዋ ጥላ ፊቷን አጠይሞት ከበቆሎው ምርት ቆማለች ሐአሴት እያደረገች፣ አምላኳን እያመሰገነች! በርግጥም አልኩ አምላክ አላሰበም እኔ ሳጭድ እሷ እንድትሸከም፡፡ በክርንሽ የሸከፍሽውን ለቀሽ ወደኔ ነይ፣ ምርቴና ቤቴን ተካፈይ! (ቶማሰ ሁድ) //

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Feb 2, 2016

Feb 2, 2016 at 8:05 AM UTC

alem-hailu-gkristos

Ruth/By Thomas Hood/Translation in Amharic/ሩት/By Alem Hailu

She stood breast high amid the corn Clasp’d by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won. On her cheek an autumn flush, Deeply ripen’d;—such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn. Round her eyes her tresses fell, Which were blackest none could tell, But long lashes veil’d a light, That had else been all too bright. And her hat, with shady brim, Made her tressy forehead dim;— Thus she stood amid the stooks, Praising God with sweetest looks:— Sure, I said, Heav’n did not mean, Where I reap thou shouldst but glean, Lay thy sheaf adown and come, Share my harvest and my home. ሩት እስከ ጡቷ ከፍታ የተንጣለለ የበቆሎ ማሳ ውስጥ ገብታ፣ የማለዳው ወርቃማ ጮራ በዙሪያዋ ዘሃውን እያደራ፣ ሠምጣ ቆመች፣ በእጹብ ድንቅ ግርማ እንደፀሐዩ ፍቅረኛ ደጋግማ በጨረር ተስማ ተሸላልማ፡፡ ልክ ከበቆሎ የማሳ ዳራ ብቅእዳለቸ ዓይን የምታስር አበባ የተገኘች ከጠይሞች ጎራ፣ እንደበሠለ ፍሬ እንደጎምራ ጉንጮችዋ ቀልተዋል አፍራ! ብርቅዬ ጥቁር ሐር የፀጉሯ ዛላ ተዘናፍሎ ይስተዋላል ቅንጦቿዋን ደገፍ ደገፍ ብሎ፣ ግና የዓይኖቿ ሽፋሽፍት ብርሃን እምቅ አድርገዋል ድብቅ አሊያ በጣም የሚያንፀባርቅ! የኮፍያዋ ጥላ ፊቷን አጠይሞት ከበቆሎው ምርት ቆማለች ሐአሴት እያደረገች፣ አምላኳን እያመሰገነች! በርግጥም አልኩ አምላክ አላሰበም እኔ ሳጭድ እሷ እንድትሸከም፡፡ በክርንሽ የሸከፍሽውን ለቀሽ ወደኔ ነይ፣ ምርቴና ቤቴን ተካፈይ! (ቶማሰ ሁድ) //

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