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brandon nagley Jan 2017
Takest me to the empyrean
Juncture; where none tears
Do ever fall, where human
Heart's never puncture.

Takest me to the railway,
Where men art free,
vunestasleek;
unfettered
Hands.

Takest me where eternal
Water's art sipped by
The daughter's of
Holy men.

Takest me to glory's
Roof, loves not aloof;
In the kingdom of
Saint's.

Takest me, O' takest
Me, where no-one
Screams, where
No blood is seen,
Where life's not
Faint.

©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry
Word meanings:
Takest: take.
empyrean: relating to heaven.
Juncture:a place where things join.
Art: means (are) archaic word.
vunestasleek: (pronounced as "vunesta sleek" is a word I created ( means) enlightened by god through God's grace, and your surroundings.
Unfettered: not restrained, unrestrained.
Aloof:not friendly or forthcoming; cool and distant.
Faint: in other words dull.
None:no.
Hilda Nov 2012
1 ¶ Bless the LORD, O my soul. O LORD my God, thou art very great; thou art clothed with honour and majesty.
2 Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain:
3 Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind:
4 Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire:
5 Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for ever.
6 Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: the waters stood above the mountains.
7 At thy rebuke they fled; at the voice of thy thunder they hasted away.
8 They go up by the mountains; they go down by the valleys unto the place which thou hast founded for them.
9 Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over; that they turn not again to cover the earth.
10 ¶ He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among the hills.
11 They give drink to every beast of the field: the wild ***** quench their thirst.
12 By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which sing among the branches.
13 He watereth the hills from his chambers: the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works.
14 He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth;
15 And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart.
16 The trees of the LORD are full of sap; the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted;
17 Where the birds make their nests: as for the stork, the fir trees are her house.
18 The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats; and the rocks for the conies.
19 ¶ He appointed the moon for seasons: the sun knoweth his going down.
20 Thou makest darkness, and it is night: wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth.
21 The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from God.
22 The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, and lay them down in their dens.
23 Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening.
24 O LORD, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches.
25 So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts.
26 There go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein.
27 These wait all upon thee; that thou mayest give them their meat in due season.
28 That thou givest them they gather: thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good.
29 Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled: thou takest away their breath, they die, and return to their dust.
30 Thou sendest forth thy spirit, they are created: and thou renewest the face of the earth.
31 ¶ The glory of the LORD shall endure for ever: the LORD shall rejoice in his works.
32 He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth: he toucheth the hills, and they smoke.
33 I will sing unto the LORD as long as I live: I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.
34 My meditation of him shall be sweet: I will be glad in the LORD.
35 Let the sinners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be no more. Bless thou the LORD, O my soul. Praise ye the LORD.*

*~KJV~
November 14, 2012
I hate the dreadful hedge behind the little wood;
And its roaming souls are blotted by a red-blood heath.
I hath treaded it, my imaginary path, since my years of childhood;
But still consolation hath come not to where I'th waited.

I'th painted it with my talent, my tears, and my solemn grief;
But even a light cometh not to such moments too brief;
Prayers are done; and even months and deserts and nights of supplications;
But still heaven is nowhere to me, heaven t'at is mute-and feedest only on our admiration.

Ah, Almighty, why is Thy image the one I so wanted to ****;
And why hath thou emerged within me no goodwill?
I am unable still, to locate my peace;
But though negligent-I think I am worthy of finding my bliss.

And Thy love of me is infamous like these frail petals;
And in my miseries Thou wert never around when I called;
Ah, where is this mysterious heaven, then, as Thou oft' boastest;
Whenst lightning is the one who destructs, and bedevils, and recomposes?

And Thy forgiveness is small and even absurd;
For salvations are seas-in which sins are bathed off and cured;
Making 'eir villainous souls are pure-and never impure;
Purified by the eternal corporeal blueness; so that t'eir weights merciful and sure.
And as sure as a gentle, understanding blood,
Where wouldst then be-a real punishment so hard?
And so where is this pompous hell embodied, thereof, as Thou often mirrorest;
If forests are dark enough-and at night canst be a terror deadliest?

Ah, and whenst my soul fallest ill,
Why art Thou not within me still?
I am weary; just like t'ese dark storms about me,
But still Thou art nowhere, so t'at my poems cannot find Thee.
Even as I starest at Thy plain rainbow;
Why is it of falsehood-instead of a sane tomorrow?
I searched and journeyed for Thy fair promise;
I am exhausted now, for I hath found not-one faint stretch o' Thy kiss.
I tired myself with Thy sour learning;
But Thou wert never there; Thou sat never, by my everything!

My blood and soul Thou hath grimly toughened;
And my flowery eyes Thou tested with tears.
Still I am febrile not-unlike my brethren;
And whenever I looketh up-Thou art never here.
Even of Thee my poems hath nothing more to say;
Though I hath fought true hard; 'gainst those who're 'stray.
Are true then-Thy bitter fires of hell,
Or is it just be a misguiding spell?
And wouldst there be fountains of water in heaven-
Or wouldst they be mere pools of poison?
For I s'pose it'd be but of one fake;
Bubbling and choking to everyone who takest;
And as my lust, and pain-Thy words consoled;
Still my misery was heroic; and I was the one scolded.
Even whenst flamed quarrels boiled;
I was the one ashamed, I was the one Thou harshly soiled!
Thou remained stiff, and in any way Thou couldst not behold;
I was oft' left stranded, collapsing and shudd'ring cold.
I was ignored, I was condemned to my suffering;
Thou soothed me never, Thou stood still to my pure straining!
I was left scarred, I was left scratched;
I was an orphan that the devil wouldst not accept;
I was like my unwholesome faith today;
And still Thou stayed mute; 's'though existed not-
'Till my tears died, and gave me nothing else to pray.

And so Eden is all abuse; and its roars are lies;
And didst I perish; wouldst only be glad its perilous eyes.
Perhaps to Thee t'is all be a tantalising story;
But as Thou needst now to know-I'd never be in thy territory;
Even though t'is earth wouldst perish, all of a sudden;
Never wouldst I kneel, nor supplicate to thy cursed ******;
Nor wouldst I cross thy damp riverside bridge;
For all is stained by dirt, and dry threefold filth.
And even nature shuffled away from my soul;
Still I stand firmly-away from Thee, o fishy and foul;
For I hath my own deployment, and honest authority;
I am honest and loyally even-to the swears of my beauty!
Ah, as Thou wouldst be pleased not, thus cast me now-away once more;
And neglect me stern' like ever before;
And admit me not-into Thy boastful superiority;
Caress me not, by Thy hands of menace-and regular hypocrisy.
I am tired of thy severable security;
As Thou owneth never-such sincerity!

And see Thy book-overborne by jokes;
Over which throats canst fall out their own yokes!
Leave me, leave me, but leave me now-just all alone;
As without Thee-I am used to being everything on my own!

Almighty, Almighty, Almighty-please now just kindly Thou leaveth me,
Strike away, if Thou couldst-my violin's barren chords-
So t'at all is silent to Thee;
And Thy dissatisfied other lords.
I am not Servant to Thy pleasures;
Though I'th strived to spell my prayers;
Thou made all feeble and obscure;
Thou turned all sickly and uglier.
Thou art hideous, hideous enough;
Thou art the devil-even the hidden devil on its own!
And thy book is not one plain verse of love;
But one naked pile of sworn lies-of plain vain scorn!
Ah, and as nothing is in Thy world, and Thy feverish harmony;
So listen, when Thou art to blame me;
I'd never still be thy bride-nor Thy wife;
I'd still fairly, but proudly turn-and leave Thee,
Though I's promised, immortality;
And though I's lent, another thousand lives.
Marian Sep 2013
Bless the Lord, O my soul.
O Lord my God, thou art
very great; thou art clothed with
honour and majesty.
2 Who coverest thyself with
light as with a garment: who
stretchest out the heavens like a
curtain:
3 Who layeth the beams of his
chambers in the waters: who
maketh the clouds his chariot:
who walketh upon the wings of
the wind:
4 Who maketh his angels
spirits; his ministers a flaming fire.
5 Who laid the foundations of
the earth, that it should not be
removed for ever.
6 Thou coveredst it with the
deep as with a garment: the
waters stood above the
mountains.
7 At thy rebuke they fled; at the
voice of thy thunder they hasted
away.
8 They go up by the mountains;
they go down by the valleys unto
the place which thou hast
founded for them.
9 Thou hast set a bound that
they may not pass over; that they
turn not again to cover the earth.
10 He sendeth the springs unto
the valleys, which run among  the
hills.
11 They give drink to every
beast of the field: the wild *****
quench their thirst.
12 By them shall the fowls of
the heaven have their habitation,
which sing among the branches.
13 He watereth the hills from his
chambers: the earth is satisfied
with the fruit of thy works.
14 He causeth the grass to grow
for the cattle, and herb for the
service of man: that he may bring
forth food out of the earth;
15 And wine that maketh glad
the heart of man, and oil to make
his face to shine, and bread which
strengtheneth man's heart.
16 The trees of the Lord are full
of sap; the cedars of Leb'-a-non,
which he hath planted;
17 Where the birds make their
nests: as for the stork, the fir trees
are her house.
18 The high hills are a refuge for
the wild goats; and the rocks for
the conies.
19 He appointed the moon for
seasons: the sun knoweth his
going down.
20 Thou makest darkness, and
it is night: wherein all the beasts
of the forest do creep forth.
21 The young lions roar after
their prey, and seek their meat
from God.
22 The sun ariseth, they gather
themselves together, and lay them
down in their dens.
23 Man goeth forth unto his
work and to his labour until the
evening.
24 O Lord, how manifold are
thy works! in wisdom hast thou
made them all: the earth is full of
thy riches.
25 So is this great and wide sea,
wherein are things creeping
innumerable, both small and great
beasts.
26 There go the ships: there is
that leviathan, whom thou hast
made to play therein.
27 These wait all upon thee;
that thou mayest give them their
meat in due season.
28 That thou givest them they
gather: thou openest thine hand,
they are filled with good.
29 Thou hidest thy face, they are
troubled: thou takest away their
breath, they die, and return to
their dust.
30 Thou sendest forth thy
spirit, they are created: and thou
renewest the face of the earth.
31 The glory of the Lord shall
endure for ever: the Lord shall
rejoice in his works.
32 He looketh on the earth, and
it trembleth: he toucheth the
hills, and they smoke.
33 I will sing unto the Lord as
long as I live: I will sing praise
to my God while I have my
being.
34 My meditation of him shall
be sweet: I will be glad in the
Lord.
35 Let the sinners be consumed
out of the earth, and let the
wicked be no more. Bless thou the
Lord, O my soul. Praise ye the
Lord.
Fay Slimm Sep 2018
Dearest My Lord.
please to read this missive not with haste
but in serious thought.


Come Sire, and view such unholy state
to which thou hast brought me
at being with child and of hearing lately
of thy touring intent mine heart
starteth in great alarm, as I indisposed
must know for sure that thou be
not going away.


Fie upon that scheme mine Liege for
thou hast in me fathered a babe.

Thou shouldest stay, and embrace mine
own confinement to disgrace,
whereby the infant will bear no name
and wouldst thou abandon me to this fate
prithee have pity on offspring shame.


Pray marry me do, thou canst not afford
to blacken my name by
seeing the truth and fleeing abroad
and thus relinquish thy parenthood destiny.

I belong only to thee so do not ill-use me.

Thou sought  thy way, now takest thou mine
for without thy support I must surely decline.

Thus thou ought to realize I live in frightful
dread unless on thee I rely.
This heart beateth only for thine say I.

Thou hast undone me so prithee consider
direst consequence, face thy conscience
and beside me do stay.

I remain heavy with anticipation lest thy reply
dashes all trust and quill thee therefore
to think my Lord on resolving such trouble
as of utmost importance.


Sent in the month of September 1709.
From Mary Elizabeth, distraughtly thine.
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2015
OXI
Where goest thou my sullied Grecian Princes?
Where takest thee now, thy perfect soul?
Dost thou ken the sharpened knives are drawn to blood thee
To slice thy tomorrows, rent un-whole.
Dost thou know thy tangled gambles are undone now
The visigoths, then angered, are now wild.
Preparing to dismember thee completely,
Preparing to dessicate thee now my child.
Who will sing thy piteous song of supplication?
Who will bid to share thy brimming cup of blame?
Whence are they who once proffered compensation?
….Vanished one and all… in crimson puffs of flame.
Hollow now the howls of lost redemption,
Empty now expressions of regret,
Gone are all the notes of promissory
Blown about the halls in winds of cold forget.*

M.
6 July
Fay Slimm Aug 2016
Dearest My Lord. read this with haste.
and view this unholy state
to which thou hast brought me, mind
heart and flesh quiver
at mention of thine intent with alarm,
as I lately hear say,
even alas as I, indisposed, thou be got
ready to ride away
but fie upon thee shouldst thy conduct
be so for thou surely
knowest in me thou hast sired a child,
pray father no *******.
To embrace wedlock before this confine
and duly confess needeth
brave heart for the babe beareth no name
if thou now abandon me,
prithee have pity on forthcoming shame
to mine own family.
Pray marry me do, thou canst not afford
to blacken my name by
fleeing abroad and relinquish thy duty,
destiny calleth along with
my kin as I have been only thine so plead
my case, do not ill-use me.
Thou hadst thy way now takest thou mine,
for without thy support
I must surely decline thus I live in despair
until reply won, mine heart
beateth only for thine I assure, though hast
thou lately undone me.
Prithee my Knight reconsider and stay like
I must to face results, fraught
with dependence on right being done unto
my reputation this day
of the Lord in the month of September 1609.

From Mary Elizabeth, distraughtedly thine.
Gone are my days of glory and grandeur,
Cast are my shadows o'th' shackles of life.
Never did I suffer from loss of vigour
With a lesson of mind's wonderful strife.

Methinks i'th' hour of pain thou shouldst remain
With me, and in me thou only takest pity,
For I know thy love for me refuseth to wane,
Whilst in seclusion I mourn for my city.

No, my love, ,my lost glamour isn't lost for ever,
For thou hadst taught me the rules of life the riddle.
Pallid, I ponder to redeem my fervour,
Amidst the howling owl's hideous cuddle.

Stolen days of my success I must find,
In thee--and thy love as my hapless mind.
KD Miller Dec 2016
overpoured
emotions carried
along unpredictable courses.

then left memories.
the two
were compatible

*"O Lord, thou givest and at thy pleasure takest away."
Growly Wolfus Mar 2020
I plant the last cross in the frosted ground
of winter marching through the leaves of fall.
The last of my coterie I hadst found
I buried, each covered with a singed pall.
Now in the world of cold, I lie in snow,
mourning the loss of everything I was.
Insanity exuding from my woe
and dreadful curses spouting from my jaws.
Thou art a monster corrupting the world
and spreading dreadful lies of the deeds done.
But soon, behold, the truth to be unfurled!
The news spreadest thee from thy serpent's tongue.
I choosest to complete my final hunt
and punish thee for such a great affront.

Thou hearken not to the grave steps upon the earth now beating.
Dost thou not see, contemptuous fiend, the eyes of death upon thee?
Thou takest from the living world the reason for my being.
And by thy hand, destroy my land, stealest everything from me.
TIM ANDREWS Aug 2018
A pale blue silk thread
Has been sewn onto my pillow;
My future hangs by such.
Now, I understand the actor’s question,
“Do you like killing beautiful things?”
In that case it was a rose
Planted, fed, watered, sprayed, nurtured, admired
And then cut.
It was grown to cut
Like the lamb of God that takest away the sins of the world was grown to be slaughtered.
The alternative would be the slow death,
As each petal falls to the ground,
To be collected and secretly placed
In the shape of a heart on a bed
Or laid out on the grass in a line leading the way to the casket buried in the earth
I call out.
But she has gone,
Trust me, she has gone
Perhaps something remains,
Hanging by a pale blue silk thread.
I do not deny the charge but I admit no guilt;
It was me.
I drew three dots on my thigh in biro ink
So ******* what?
2018
Epic Poetical Sep 2024
I.
On that divine-like hands and laps of thine, my grandmother, each moment I embraced the new learnings.

Well, in that tranquil Spring night when the wave of stars washed away my eyes, I cried for them to have in the small hands of mine. Since then, I learnt to cry.

In order to soothe my longing cry, thou hast sung me the rhyming lullaby and spreaded the formless form of smile on my face. Since then, I learnt to smile.

At that cooing rhythm of thy song; thou hast energetically swung me high and low in the air, whilst my body seems to have lost its weight so light. Since then, I learnt to get thrilled by the melody of song.

A feeling of overflowing on an edge of the wind has brought the word of excitement to my unawake mouth, ehh.. since then, I learnt to speak a word.

That morning, Aye, drunk by the golden dawn, the wave of my eyes reached to the falling leave at the distant height. The very curiosity to catch hold of it has burnt my little heart. Since then, I learnt to curious about the things.

Slipping away from thy hand, I ran to catch the falling leaves. But O fie, I couldnst catch it! I followed its flight —but the wind took it farther away. My eyes couldnst reach to it anymore, as it gradually disappeared at invisible sight. Since then, I learnt to walk.

Thou art my model, my grandmother! These all childly learnings alighted from that holy-like hands and laps of thine. I regard thee.

II.
I extend the words from that little heart of mine— and that's my deepest Adulation to thee, my beloved parents!

I know not how I've wandered upon the Mesh of age to reach this mile of oldness— nor dost I know how I've rushed on over the trouble obstacles I encountered each age.

Such little strange tale of mine evolved from thy ***** hands, my beloved parents!

In the kingly and queenly world of thine, I expanded on the rhythm of an ineffable joyance. I know not the bound— but surely I cherished the flower and its hidden honey thou hast bestowed upon me, from that holy adornment of thy hearts.

Thou hast attained all my childly cravings and worn a garland of smile to this sullen face of mine.

Thou hast taken care of me from all sorts of ailings. Thou hast given me the warm garments and never let my body ailed by the cold breeze in Winter and tanned by the barnstorming heat in Summer.

Mother, when the hunger ailed my stomach, I spelt out thy name and cried
In dissonant pitch.Thou hast given me a plate of rice. In the amidst of night when the silence has spreaded its wings, the unrestrained thirst parched up my throat. I awoke thee— so thou hast given me a cup of water to quench my thirst.

Father, the most I must not forget about thee is thou hast shaded the blood and dropped down the endless sweat onto the earthly mud to give me this excess of life.

I'm grateful to both of thee, my beloved parents! Without both of thy presence,
I would not have made my life so far and so long. I regard thee.    

III.
Mother, I've cried out the mighty tears
For one thing— and that's the signet ring.

I cried all the days and all the nights for that. I
Even refused to take the meals thou

Hast given to me from thy motherly hand.
Thou hast bought me the little play toy—

But fie, couldn't bring the harmony to these dissonant eyes of mine! The tears

Unseemly overflowed on its expanding Despair. I was a small and innocent kid,

My mother, as I saw that signet ring Glitter bright on the man's finger, it took

My eyes' captive  away and made me
Oozed upon the mesh of longingness.

By then, I witnessed the tears in my eyes.
I knew not how to extinguish this burning

Agony of my heart— it seemed more Intense as the days passed. All of my

Energies lost to pale weakness. I seem To have had sleepless nights; tossing

And turning on the bed, overshadowed
By the ailing insomnia. I only wished to

Have it on one of my fingers, bright and Illuminating grace like a blue diamond.

It was thy love, at last, thou Hast given it to me on the final day

And cured the very tears of craving. I Heaved a sigh of relief since then.

IV.
Such a blesseth land, have I ever taken my refuge!
Such a blesseth land, is only my century-long home!

Thou art my home for the generation long, my beloved Motherland, how lovely thou art! Thou hast given me a tender place here to take a long and joyant abide.

It is my privilege to spend my life here, embracing the endless blessings of no bound thou hast bestowed upon me. The joy of course, I have cherished a fragrance of this very land, in an ineffable bound of pride.

All that is hush and composed mountains that weave the picturesque sight; all that is rich and benevolent water that evokes the sweet taste like that of honey; and all that is earthly and never-fading mud that upholdest the living beings. O, I never knew I was used to them! Such is my luck!

My life flowers bright here upon thy heavenly garden; and now I'm able to furnish the beauty of my own within and out like Camellia. I wish my life had no bound and all my body and limbs were immortal, I would heave infinite steps of age, century after century, turning olds into new...

All that thou hast dispensed to me doth not belong to me, but I taketh it as holy blessing. Thou hast given me all thy shelters and stood before me shameless and bare. In fact, thou hast protected me from all trouble obstacles of sorts, such is thy holy grace, My beloved motherland!


Such a blesseth land, have I ever taken my refuge!
Such a blesseth land, is only my century-long home!

I am deepened down into the bottomless pride, for I am born to this land of kingly harmony. It's thy pleasure that indeed, I should be grateful to thee, for thou hast  taken care of me till this age far. Such is my fortune!

What knowest others of thee? What knowest others the taste of that golden honey, so-thickly ebbs out of thy ***** heart that seems ineffable.

For me, thou art all that higher than the universe; and there's no above thee, such is thy strength! Thy love is an unattainable worth. I canst return thy love even though my life extend a hundred decades long.

It's indeed the sin to step upon the holy-like body of thine; but thou art receptive by nature, and such is thy holy grace; my beloved motherland, thou hast carried me these long years bearing all sorts of weariness.

Such a blesseth land, have I ever taken my refuge!
Such a blesseth land, is only my century-long home!

V.
Mother, the Emblem of love
A residence of the eternal glory
A supreme fragrance, and the Utopian idealist
Gifted one
Strong existentialist
beneath the
cosmology

O, the incumbent mother!
Thou art an antidote to our
daily miseries—
and a song to our
timeless euphoria
We art blessed
under thy cosmic arms

It is said that thou
hast attained
a realm of love— the unattainable pinnacle
Where we imbibe
the nectar of happiness
Thou art
the ethereal guardian,
A mirror-image to celestial soul
Where we art thy shadows,
The shadows thou uphold'st

Hiding tears behind
The eyelashes,
Putting a facade of smile,
Thou equipped
Us with love and care
Like the sun nourishing sunflower

O, the selfless existence!
A remnant of the pre-existed mother-
The ''Goddess Devi''
We art grateful to thee,
For always taking care of us
Without thou, there is no concept of Existence
(Everything is meaningless)
              
VI.
In this very fragrant and heavenly garden of thine, my noble king, I am one of the blooming flowers.
                      
Indeed, I had luck to be grown upon thy garden; and I never knew I would grow rich in fragrance, it's only the blessing thou hast bestowed upon me as a century-long gift.
                      
All that I am embracing is none other than the grace of light that showers richly from thy own kingly heart, and it knows no bounds.
                      
This small garden of thine, for which thou hast immense love, lies at one periphery of thy heart.
                        
Thou hast carried it against all the trouble storms and protected these long years. Each day, thou hast tirelessly worked to give the very harmony to this garden of thine.

That's how all the flowers have come to bloom of their own each, so bright and aromatic.

As the very petals of mine have touched
Thy majestic hands, it giveth the endless birth of pride to my heart.

How fortunate am I to be grown
Upon this garden of thine!

Each morning, I awaken not just to bloom  but to offer thee my fragrance in humble devotion, for thy timeless love and care.

VII.
At this age of thy oldness, my grandfather, as I touch thy supreme hands, these very intengible eyes of my heart break down in tears of adoration.

It's because of thy grandfatherly love and contributions I am offering the words to thee. Those words are of my heart and have been hidden and unslipped out at the edge of my lips to this very day.

Knowest thou the time before the break of vergin dawn....

Getting up early as 4 in the morning, walking upon the harsh meadow enshrouded by the thick dew, and getting the water from the distant away, bearing the cold touch of winter breeze.
Two jerkins full of water weighing thy hands heavy, no torch but walking under the grace of rich moonlight.

Ah, had it been today, I would've at least
helped thee carry one.

Boiling the water warm for our washing,
Cooking the rather-delicious breakfast for us, helping us wear the gho neat and clean, and reaching us all the way to the school on foot.

Ah, had it been today, I would've at least walked the school by myself.

Celebrating the pain of love within like a man of supremety, all the days tirelessly sweating and soaking in other's field, and earning the petty amount of ransom for our timely welfare and school stationaries.

Ah, had it been today, I would've at least worked by myself and taken care of my school needs.

Bearing the body heavy with tiredness, yet coming till the school entrance to get us. Wearing the torn jacket, folding the wounded arms tight, and waiting all alone at the gate thro' the passage of time, till the school hour over.

Ah, had it been today, I would've at least returned home by myself.

I wonder how thou hast passed half of thy life with us, my grandfather! Taking care of us all day and all night
living in the small and ill- thatched camp wast challenging for thee.

It's by virtue of thy all-day and all-night presence, we've grown healthy and untroubled to this day.

 VIII.
In this fragile land abidest thy coy footprints unwithered; and it seems that the sweat thou hast droppeth down, I would still find there. I could recall thy wounded hands healed by the painful blisters.
Each day toiling in the field; ploughing beneath the scorching sun, cutting down the grass and feeding the herd of cattle, and walking towards the moorish hill in search of the firewood. Alas!  No slippers on feet yet enduring the harsh sting of nettle. Indeed, thou hast never failed carrying out thy duties. Thou hast turneth up each moment wast special for thee.
In thine eyes I've grown this age. I shared my love and joy with thee and simultaneously, I learnt to carry out all the external work and withstand the pain. Although I've come across the endurance, thy continues guidance hast shaped my each learning.
Thou hast made me a master at rather young age. I would regard thy fatherly companionship and mastership. Today, I could see change in thee. The weight of years hast overshadowed thy wandering age but the fire within, thou keepest bright and unfade in thy heart.
That's why I still see thee labouring at this age— despite thy oldness. All that I'm living today is because of thy endless hardwork and tenacity.

 IX.
The only glory heaven that has ever revealed to my eyes is thee, my dear patria! How could I forget thee in the passage of time!

Thou art mine friendly companion and all that infinite memories, I have in one store of my heart today, have bent forth since my childhood alongsides thy endless play, my dear patria! How could I forget thee in the passage of time!

I know, when the time has held my feet, I left thee in speechless grief for the months long. But surely I mourned for that, as it was my folly, my dear patria! How could I forget thee in the passage of time!

Over the steady heave of months, the
uneasy flake enshrouded the terrains of mine heart, often troubling me to weave upon the mesh of time. Thy mystic love now and then ebbed my being in silent utterance.

All that pictures gleamed before my eyes were of the fragile land where I reside, the graceful mountains and gorges that often caught my gaze, and the buoyant dwellers. Not only that, the tastes of those fruits and the clean water have haunted my taste bud.

And now all of my agonies have settled calm, for I'm back and shalt lose myself in thy majesty, my dear patria! How could I forget thee in the passage of time!

 X.
In thine sweet farewell, my beloved teachers, my eyes burst out the tears in silent grief— for our years of flowery union in the school have faded with the passage of time.

                          
Our teacher-student love was deeply and utterly rooted under the substratum of hearts. Unseen yet surely a felt relish. We enjoyed the days through learnings and experiences. Together, we rushed against the stony obstacles and vicissitudes of life and thrived under the gracious illumination of education.
                            
Not only that, in our unlawful conducts were thee the masters behind to uphold our immorality and make us grow with rich ornaments of discipline. Thou hast well treated us— indeed good and humane as though we wert thine own sons and daughters.

                              
Thou hast scolded to us at our undone homeworks was varily right on our part, I claim that for otherwise we wouldst not have grown and reaped the sweet fruit of an accademy.

                              
Thus, we shalt regard thy unwavering care and mentorship done to us in all our stay in the school. The unrevealed light of knowledge thou hast revealed in our sky shalt guide us through the passage of our lives. More importantly, the sweet fragrance of love that ever sweetened our lives came fom the garden of thine own hearts, and 'tis going to haunt us here on. I claim that.
        
                                  
With this, I pen off and I wish my verses would reach to thee someday. Fare thee well to all my kingly and queenly teachers and it's uneasy at my heart to          
leave thy kingdom on its lonesome.

 XI.
O monk, the worthiness
of this long-sleeved, wide and dark, saffroned robe. I, the byfarer, ever walk to thy lonely temple to seek blessings from thee. Wouldst thou lead me in? For I've no sins nor scorns in my heart. I've withered the dark hues of sins and scorns to the glanceless colour.
O monk, before thou
leadest me in, let me not forget to bow down my whole body onto thy barefeet. Thou on the edge corner of thine alter hall givest me the warm floor to rest my body. Thou takest out the beads. Ready for chanting prayers and
songs. O monk, shall
I join thee or keep my mouth all shut and tight in silent listening. Ah such is thee and thy costless bliss, love, and nobility are divine attributes that I ever aspire to reach. Thou offerest the millions of butter lamps for me and for all kin beings around and across this din world. Ah when I leave from here, let me not forget to extend my deepest
gratitude alongsides holy
    reverence.

— The End —