"bhfuil" poems - Hello Poetry

Tá mé codladh orm Ag iarraidh codladh Ach gan aon toradh dom-ádh Rugadh agus tógadh leis dearcadh difriúil lá i ndiadh lae An grá mícheart Is é mo chroí ag craoladh, faoi grá Ag muineadh dom nach, faoi mná Rachainn mé go dti an trá. an alainn trá Déarfainn mé Dia duit ar an buachaillín. an alainn buachaillín Mo muirnín. Dhéanfainn mé seo, ach Nuair a fháil i go dtí an trá, Ní bheidh tú in ann. Beidh mé san áit mícheart ag an am mícheart. Ní haon ionadh é mar Ní féidir leat a shéanadh go bhfuil mo chroí, i gcónaí mícheart

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Feb 8, 2015

Feb 8, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC

aar505n

Bíonn An Fhírinne Searbh.

Tá mé codladh orm Ag iarraidh codladh Ach gan aon toradh dom-ádh Rugadh agus tógadh leis dearcadh difriúil lá i ndiadh lae An grá mícheart Is é mo chroí ag craoladh, faoi grá Ag muineadh dom nach, faoi mná Rachainn mé go dti an trá. an alainn trá Déarfainn mé Dia duit ar an buachaillín. an alainn buachaillín Mo muirnín. Dhéanfainn mé seo, ach Nuair a fháil i go dtí an trá, Ní bheidh tú in ann. Beidh mé san áit mícheart ag an am mícheart. Ní haon ionadh é mar Ní féidir leat a shéanadh go bhfuil mo chroí, i gcónaí mícheart

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An bhfuil duine ar bith ag tabhairt aird orm? Níl, táim i mo thaibhse, ag siúl gach lá Gan duine ar bith ag rá, conas atá? Chomh imeallaithe leis an teanga álainn atá in úsáid agam. Ní thuigfidh daoine an dán seo. Ní thuigeann daoine mise.

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Feb 11, 2015

Feb 11, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC

coconut-skins

Dán gan teideal

An bhfuil duine ar bith ag tabhairt aird orm? Níl, táim i mo thaibhse, ag siúl gach lá Gan duine ar bith ag rá, conas atá? Chomh imeallaithe leis an teanga álainn atá in úsáid agam. Ní thuigfidh daoine an dán seo. Ní thuigeann daoine mise.

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Tá tú an réalt ag taitneamh i mo domhan dorcha nach bhfuil rud ar bith sa saol seo Ní ba mhaith liom a dhéanamh ar do shon Ba mhaith liom dul ar fud an domhain seo Ba mhaith liom troid ar bith Demon Má chiallaigh sé tú a choinneáil ag mo thaobh. Tá tú mo Shlánaitheoir Mo shlánú Mo bheannacht Ní leor faoi cheilt a dhéanamh mar sin Is breá liom tú Kaitlyn le gach snáithín de mo á Is breá liom tú

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Jul 7, 2014

Jul 7, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC

HawkFlight

Is breá liom tú

Tá tú an réalt ag taitneamh i mo domhan dorcha nach bhfuil rud ar bith sa saol seo Ní ba mhaith liom a dhéanamh ar do shon Ba mhaith liom dul ar fud an domhain seo Ba mhaith liom troid ar bith Demon Má chiallaigh sé tú a choinneáil ag mo thaobh. Tá tú mo Shlánaitheoir Mo shlánú Mo bheannacht Ní leor faoi cheilt a dhéanamh mar sin Is breá liom tú Kaitlyn le gach snáithín de mo á Is breá liom tú

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i. Forby thou art not, I quiver from the Cold; mine heart Is running rapid, There's anguish In mine soul. ii. I wail out of mine Bones, mine grave Is looking close, I Implore for thee, Mine Jane, mine Sweet. I implore One day, thy eye's I'll meet. iii. On the emptied Street's of purgatory, Mine sandal's art worn; I beseech for just one kiss, But there's nothing, mine heart doth burn. iv. Though through these trial's And Tribulation's, I shalt Hath patience; whilst I Get bitten, by the demon's I have been smitten. Ourn Affamour shalt break down Door's, wherein hell shalt Shatter, we shalt reach the Shores, O' I plore for thou. v. Mine eyeball's art sinking in, is this death somehow? Mine body and limbs now doth trow; it's weathering Away, I'm hanging on tight; I prayest thou canst saveth Me, by the end of the night. And queen if I goeth, please Knoweth mine amulet belongeth to thee, I wilt forever Looketh down, upon thine crown, mine empress; mine Queen. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

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Feb 8, 2016

Feb 8, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

Fear a bhfuil sé ag fáil bháis , a anam a bhfuil sé ag caoineadh dhuit ( A man who's dying, a soul who's crying for thee) old irish tongue

i. Forby thou art not, I quiver from the Cold; mine heart Is running rapid, There's anguish In mine soul. ii. I wail out of mine Bones, mine grave Is looking close, I Implore for thee, Mine Jane, mine Sweet. I implore One day, thy eye's I'll meet. iii. On the emptied Street's of purgatory, Mine sandal's art worn; I beseech for just one kiss, But there's nothing, mine heart doth burn. iv. Though through these trial's And Tribulation's, I shalt Hath patience; whilst I Get bitten, by the demon's I have been smitten. Ourn Affamour shalt break down Door's, wherein hell shalt Shatter, we shalt reach the Shores, O' I plore for thou. v. Mine eyeball's art sinking in, is this death somehow? Mine body and limbs now doth trow; it's weathering Away, I'm hanging on tight; I prayest thou canst saveth Me, by the end of the night. And queen if I goeth, please Knoweth mine amulet belongeth to thee, I wilt forever Looketh down, upon thine crown, mine empress; mine Queen. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

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As Cuimhne Bhí sé scríofa ar na ballaí fadó. Go gasta a chuaigh sí ar na boithre gan treo go háiteanna nach bhfuil ann idir aislingí bréagacha gan machnamh gan léargas Chuaigh sí amach as cuimhne a saoil ina gréasán aici gan breathniú orm gan smaointe orm Ach….gan deireadh ag fanacht go suaimhneach orm póg a thabhairt di. Mac Giolla Fhaoláin 2016

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Jul 16, 2016

Jul 16, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC

gerry-mcclelland

As Cuimhne

As Cuimhne Bhí sé scríofa ar na ballaí fadó. Go gasta a chuaigh sí ar na boithre gan treo go háiteanna nach bhfuil ann idir aislingí bréagacha gan machnamh gan léargas Chuaigh sí amach as cuimhne a saoil ina gréasán aici gan breathniú orm gan smaointe orm Ach….gan deireadh ag fanacht go suaimhneach orm póg a thabhairt di. Mac Giolla Fhaoláin 2016

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Aisle Spáinneach, Spaniard ardaigh giveth, dom an saol, giveth go bhfuil an saol i srón mianach !!! (Spanish tongue) (English translated-) Spaniard aisle, Spaniard rose, giveth me life, giveth that life in mine nose!!!

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Jun 13, 2015

Jun 13, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

pasillos españoles ( Spaniard aisles) spanish tongue

Aisle Spáinneach, Spaniard ardaigh giveth, dom an saol, giveth go bhfuil an saol i srón mianach !!! (Spanish tongue) (English translated-) Spaniard aisle, Spaniard rose, giveth me life, giveth that life in mine nose!!!

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I cognized fully in all awareness Coming across her open page I was apperceiving in the moment, That twas her I sought long many lifeyears ago... I kneweth from old As she still question's what's all to cometh? I kneweth before her, We were mirror souls of heaven's hummus... As tis She wilt not yet fully understandeth I was a watchmen from beyond It's her love again I demandeth.. I say her love again Due to the fact we learned eachother before, Before the foundation of thy world She was mine mi amour!!!! As she still is I'm here to guideth her again, She trust's noone Yet for me she shalt in the end... Because in the end We shalt seeith the stars tumble And earth dissapear Yet like before For mine mi amour, Again I shalt be near..... So shed thy tear, oh scholar of mine writing's So thou canst see what true amare is, It's me and her Against the world Treking and nomadic To venue's gone amiss... But its I who awaiteth again for her everything As tis patience they sayeth is key, Guess I'll just haveth to keepeth waiting For mine spain-moon-beam-queen !!!!!

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Jun 25, 2015

Jun 25, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

Nach bhfuil sí a bhaint amach go fóill ( She doesnt realize yet) old irish tongue

I cognized fully in all awareness Coming across her open page I was apperceiving in the moment, That twas her I sought long many lifeyears ago... I kneweth from old As she still question's what's all to cometh? I kneweth before her, We were mirror souls of heaven's hummus... As tis She wilt not yet fully understandeth I was a watchmen from beyond It's her love again I demandeth.. I say her love again Due to the fact we learned eachother before, Before the foundation of thy world She was mine mi amour!!!! As she still is I'm here to guideth her again, She trust's noone Yet for me she shalt in the end... Because in the end We shalt seeith the stars tumble And earth dissapear Yet like before For mine mi amour, Again I shalt be near..... So shed thy tear, oh scholar of mine writing's So thou canst see what true amare is, It's me and her Against the world Treking and nomadic To venue's gone amiss... But its I who awaiteth again for her everything As tis patience they sayeth is key, Guess I'll just haveth to keepeth waiting For mine spain-moon-beam-queen !!!!!

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