Sometimes I think of killing myself
How the end would be so nice
How the darkness would swallow me up
And how the numbness would suffice
My need

For all the voices of the feelings
That constantly keep me reeling
To softly slow to a hush
As my brain starts tur-tur-turning into mush

How wonderful it would be
To have that powerful silence
Not even grasshoppers would bother
To wake me

My cells would stop dividing
My brain would stop the lying
Myself would stop denying
What I truly want

But but but
This is just a reckless fantasy
A way to elude one’s own reality

Because as I sit here on the floor
Tears drip drip dropping
I realize there’s those who care for me more
Cherish me more
Love me more
Than I love my own self

The crickets chirp
I put the pills down

Set of cave genes If you could read... pluri freedoms of the dark light of ignorance teach understand that breathe under the Naturality Natural Nature is not necessary to have an understanding heart and store on their empty heads of knowing ancient rain where wisdom possess. If dance on every grain of chickpea for each foot plant what could a plant obey; foot, Plant, and Plantation...

Resulting in kingdoms on my animals, fungi, plants, and protists, media freedom as a seed to reach our evolutionary lack of ceased hopeness...

First  Ellipsis Angle loneliness"God felt Chained"

Chained down by dragging the last link of its multiple arcane freedom in which transfigured recent swings where he collapsed with the latter being of himself whose life lies lifeless alive but lost. The latter that child not to know and deprived of nascent freedom that will never be born and come knowledge in our genome of Independence.

When the caveman thought to be a complement to the world is enslaved by the mystery of lost in himself... The born and born, never dies, that's so naive and innocent... is still full unaware of their free will, rather it is he who must re-literate and be a living part of the ancestral genome Cavernario component. Oh Heavenly Lord of the steppes I look because more of you today without having lived what you lived, as he would have played with my gaze to succor and keep you had fallen into the fangs of an animal, or you had fallen on the glacier cliff where he has separated you from your Clan Cave.

Emancipation means to be always innocent, my blood runs through yours,
I read and understand any phenomenon of deprivation exist without you lack wisdom satiate if all your generations crushed by the ignorance of falling subject will be well, me and my being I take my precognitions as a tormented child's worst nightmare before about sleeping. Sixth Papal almost, almost kneel before the creation of memorizes creation. This prerogative Lord lives Bread’s God Minor remaining....of whose iconography will not leave this fifth fraternal dimension will not come, if not more will enter the latter end of absolute solitude... and shorter than the last thousand years of Neandertal.


Cavernary Political and Ellipsis:

On a day of gentle wind and tense rain proclaiming Clan joined, they all shouted running, the ground shook and the children slept in terror... the 10 infants who were talking about the Sign from above, but the nines they crossed his arms remaining to create solidarity roof that protects the man in your imagination...
The eighth child of the clan ran quickly into the arms of his mother and she imagined how far, how far would never come... uncharacteristically who came with his brother seventh had in their hands the word of entertainment of Being, to be a plaintiff political all of braiding them together with lines enabling the hermit may decide that creation is a mass of lines of certain fashions together, everything sings like the slightest cyclamen dew on the line pointy rough fallen fungus. All arms folded on the upper porch of the Vatican Macario in Franconia, saying that many who unite in their fevered requests large modern man ceased to be autonomous when it came out of their caves and charnel pit.

Ran all she enjoyed doing that almost without knowing whether or not they fall...
Ran because of every day the sun ahead of them a lesson for a man of the future...
They are running to be released the day of his birth chained to stars of light, to carry him to his mother and father, sneaking to his brothers.

Brother worn eleventh birth to her existence as another being evolved Eukaryotic: Surely those provided beings of cell membranes rhizomes reflected in higher liberty lives purged of ectoplasm walk without a discounted subsidiary. Shakespeare in Helsingor appeared immune to a blood brother to all that limits the Draconian feel in the pinnacles drawn 700 greened steeds. From the deepest swoon in the underworld subway Helsingor, follow the prevailing souls presided over by the great ear of the hard sandcastle, stressed hard Ghosts of Stratford upon Avon.

Freedom plague spits words of pancreatic poisoned exordium, spits verses of confusion disorders without permission, without solid bass sound without liquid sea that resists mad edges followed by solid sound...
But smaller stones give priority to conjugate final sentence and noble verses Guardian
to mission how important would Liberation:

Maybe it's a synonymy of Astral Solar...
It is not Solitude, is a free nation that has its own kind prosecutor's office for even when Euthanasia closes your eyes to the astral, will run the stones of the Sea of joy believing that neither you dare if there is no healthy grass to clarify the rainy day terror.


Reverse walk creeks aggravated birds feet, walking great playful ruse.
Reverse run my comrades preparing festivity meals with chandeliers and singing lay plenary., Singing Avenue pine port Firenze, Second run subtracting minutes and hours the minute is enough for me with your face in my arms to recognize your longevity anathema times oblique faces for lip-smacking hailstones Templars.

In 1297 in northern Italy nearby rural families migrate to chalky Venice, Perugia came the exiles walked to find their independence south of the Iberian Peninsula. They were so atoned as in the echoing flutes, harps, zithers, and harpsichords field temperate; They invited the blunting of intemperate monocordio.

Golden Chariot Carrenio

The golden carriage carrying them came without a single space rather than inheritances acquired goldsmiths of ancient noble and chaste solid shine. Carrenio; the coachman wore on his left arm bracelet thousand mobile travel without stopping to drink more water and to feed their horses. After revamping its gold pieces bartered by a slave who was getting Carrenio Christians fleeing the Romans. Well, they fled as far as the plains of great earthly squandered his memory and that end of the end should come.

How am away from my land more I learn it's back to her,
There is no ground for the first time, but that which is foreign
Carrenio of Perugia and sensed that ****** was Jewish ashes,
Luther King black paste of burnt forest,
Mandela and Biko Ogre garage from Victorian Empire,
Gandhi in his humility is always put behind the Sun
to figure out the small
Tagore trashed my heart caressing the entire universe uncorrupted
Hölderlin together in the cabin waiting for his mother at Zimmerman,
That my beloved Borker forest should shine gold teeth with black resin,
Theresa of Calcutta was eaten and swallowed all diseases lepers knowing good taste proverbial dessert psalm,
Jose Miguel Carrera was more than a trench, clay bullets in each of his temples where he received
To be doubly Lonco is to be halved, lacerated by lay his head on his land, not galloping on his back throngs of wit and hope out Nazareth trembles when an F-16 diluted ***** covering landless caravans Heritage continues to lead the people killed but the mosque wall has been Fe Erecta.
Helena plenipotentiary Kowalska at Vilnius, Faustina Divine Mercy Diadema
The agonizing deprivation of millions of people with cancer in every continent of private well-being analgesic, weighed down by increased pain, almost as strong as the Master Hammered Golgotha, so it was that Joshua has cancer always to slow it down on us. Benigno whether metastasis, malignant albeit benign finance.
The death of an innocent little angel devoured by the beast remains as a fluff hairless sardine in the jaws of a shark baron.
Khalil Gibran writes that with both hands to support the reviewer behind in Bicharri and bohemian Paris,

Salvador Allende Gossens was born since he was deceived by his parents who would heal politics, would rather dig their ancestors in their brains scattered in the currency in face seal or tail of.

Frei Montalva that today has to receive the Macro Augusto Heaven their arms, their sorrows, and regrets, although his worst military executioner.

Legion is an offshoot of liquid central gray material, which defers well done becoming but not defeated, it is the decree of the divine threshold space Living or ceases to live, that failure does not exist, it is the postponement of success - success.

The Genocide September 11 in New York was a ritual, who produced was a small wrath strength of the Rotary world, as the camshaft is upset in the history of trying to make more alphabet in schools where the flag hoisting and found scholars in West and East, so they can learn more than reading of both unlettered, lip and water to possess it to write with it. The worst disaster is read with the memory that will never happen... I write my greatest need with lipstick and my greatest need I write eagerly to participate. Yesterday I passed by a boutique and buy lipsticks that are closer to the language, written with the mouth and not the hand. !

Freedom, debauchery, libration, drawer, Bookstores..! Carrenio..: he said see I'm right! Raise and educate has a great synonymy with autonomy because the ancestors wrote everything that deprived them and made them fear, but do not have to eat the autumn gives me to dress the return of spring, bread orchid, and cineraria. Hence by that inner syllabic singing hunger sated that sought sheet to sheet rid of everything until the end of the book as the encounter between night and day without considering oblivious to anything or anyone on the track window swing wind, wind seeping.


It was old Zeus or Hera of Antique,
Cavern to house geometric polyphonic, angular seeds to create fashions kiss kissed everything that any vertical plane does not fit with the closed horizon
For hands and angels, Hebrews the inner soul of every carpenter and stonemason shrunk, wash their eyes and cheeks with songs of vibration and idyllic comfort,
Everything resembled and sounded Bethlehem 2.0 deities choirs sweeping grasslands,
The similarity of this clairvoyant child is born in a cave...
Rising motherly free Soliloquy Papini sitting to the right of ruminant cattle,
So archaic that to be born is not born in a clinic mega Cristus but hundreds of kilometers and hundreds who are born with the undergirding whispers and servitude being.
Where the multi gray impetuous born star is a healthy gauze story in the present tense... this angelic child grows by Miriam washes his feet in a belligerent abolished stone. His father must wash their hands on a stone which is where measured his ecclesiastical mystical stature, stone Madonna to heal his feet where he leaves to free himself, to free us... Marble gamete fémina vault, where he sleeps without knowing whether it is due, the ***** fell from the sky.
How wise is the Wise, it makes permissible for much more than two thousand years we stone quarry wheel and wheel, homily, and blessing to not wake at night to sleep startle middle and uphill.

Me of the referent of antiquity is not me of today is polished cobble stone,
Useful weapon quarry road there and backtrack to have blisters stone and soft thoughts under my pillow soft stone as a whole.

If you're ****** private living and have a free soul choosing coexist, then you are low in the cemetery on a tombstone of heresies.

Neolithic early 4500 after Hildegard von Bingen and his entourage and prowled full and channeled, swooning in her swoon with flowers in his hands and his followers planting forests on top of Stonehenge.

Carrenio says...: you see I'm right, we coexist, I die like the worst ****** cancer and then put a tombstone Stonehenge conspire in my honor black pain prayers of Salisbury. It blooms in vibrant red rubies that detonate in chromaticity and life. The stream itself is exceeded the aquatic plant Macarenia.

Call us and civilize us, outdated as far as my tired feet though I come not ashamed to see my new tracks.

Carrenio says...; see I'm right Joshua has traces of gold from other Caterpillar shod feet. Antique everything is prescribed according to their legacy today is Lent Pro that came before it was Lent vestige Pentecost came to be a nickname of the mystery of the passion in less than a rooster crows.

Beside it is the mystery of the disappointment of stubborn demon, which helps you all carry the cross, but not the entire load. Fire and Light at dawns where the splendor born...


Genome Freedom, even today every centimeter of my witness of each component, if the basic origin of the signs of the primitive world, is that we have lost the bark of the lexicon, which does not allow us to understand the meditations to ask for something, not You need to ask something. Today genome is requesting something because thousands of people who asked for millions of years, now it's time to cater to them. They were wrapped in cloth shroud of spiritual sacredness, today cemeteries mega dance their souls leave no sleepers both much grass on their heads not yet sullied by the puppet Azrael.


Impossible not to decorate the rocks forged empires that fall into the rubble, they bring 476 d. C., a new opening Middle age freedom of travel both in history thousands of years begins a new axis Golden Carrenio’s Chariot.

Carrenio Wagon

This great colossal ship Carrenio time is a timber that holds the sky, a beam that does not faint or distended thousands a. C, and the old age of King's large musings that were forgotten. It is astride ship millennium, their history of oppression has seen in the wheel, instrument wise rolling like a wheel before 5, 000 years ago, here  We fought and prostrated to distant lands millennium after millennium him away.

Golden Chariot is the structure that freedman us to enforce a new life on earth, even the Gods prided themselves move the stars to constellations called her noble Auriga sailing in full the Universes and Cartwheel Galaxy or cart Wheel. As if to say that when the Universe and its own mythology, were visited between them inch by inch by wherever they shine.

Carrenio mask and frame used had strength, temper, and tittle. When the first libertarian squall of antiquity came closer, Rome was already small and nobles populate what is a quote, Piccola. The executioner always frightened and starts out of his own wickedness. Markos Botsaris as did in Greece, and surrounding towns Messologhi remote, they were free more than tuned in massif Arankithos high wind. He was riding to Kanti once again with the golden rider Etrestles of Kalavrita. According to the Chronicle that came from distant millennia has envisioning promote its neighbor's heroic to free Messolonghi of ****** wars. All this I saw with his own eyes Carrenio, every thousand years styling with Etrestles, cleaned their nostrils so that new breed of horses to thrive,

Avignon, in the necropolis, witnessed as Azrael was cleaning his wings Jade antipopes, another story begins... even he seeks to candela who can read this story, and who can provide it from hand to hand cutting semicolons who disclosed.


Second  Ellipsis Angle  New Era:

Ara released the ropes throwing a big ship, History makes a man is at the center of the world. Revolutions, thinking, communication, and especially vindicate man in his right-libertarian. artists with their creations flowing all over the world, mutating classic Renaissance to abstract overlook. Family appearing welfare and needs. A ramble and so many broken laws. Mankind is distracted l film and theater artist of tradition. Art now has sound and movement, then social and political revolutions are industrial that unite everyone behind the pivot deployment of social classes.


Everything evolves until we get tired of doing so. It rests and then continues. This is modern reality, we wrote about the history of events on facts that have never been told. The world has tired all the Eras, but each pause time that has happened has been recharged, nothing finished if not started again. After so many wise lawyers, clergy plunged into great towers bound books. Is evident again can not read or understand. Our realities are missing valid without knowing I close and then open another door. human and civil rights, fair wages, so excessive autocracy monarchy. Freeman can walk along the paths, even if they were trenches.

Zephyr soft murmur which clutters in the Irises by Van Gogh, the painter is the biggest star trek, called with his feet images and colors that would make his own liberty to live naturally insane. And many others Brueghel "Triumph of Death" that roam the countryside, perhaps a medieval piece of Tarskovski; Andrei Rublev in futile painters decorating steps in the fontano chignon Androniko Monastery Moscow, extinct Rublev 70 years, Tarkovsky 54.

Early ellipsis - Campo dei Fiori in Rome to see die at the stake Giordano Bruno by order of the Holy Inquisition. The irruption of the Inquisition, but their feet are touching the flowers, the seasoned cassock continues to haunt the universe of Faith Dominica Trastevere, it is seen to lectures on how to be bold with the informers and the Whistle Blower dies without shade in spring, you resist the star on the asphalt on the magical island of holiness.

Carrenio says: Come I'm right, we can not read, because the brutality of the Cosmos is manure per ton weathered in the backyard of the aristocracy. I will continue with respect and crosed in Crete. Lila Kedrova means the fear of bunk bed tied to her bed and is free in foreign lands leg. Queen insular matriarchy, she lives more than any Greek Goddess, waiting for his Adonis, to fill out honors. Win an Oscar but lost to Zorba, he loses his house but won a Tony Awards. How many women teach us that to win you have to give everything to lose his brains, and thus count as the lost number remains to be retained. Zorba whines in her arms, she moans in the arms of her husband Zeus Steve, proof of a new era. Onyx for his tomb, plate of this great tragedy.

On the evening of December 14, 1964, attended the premiere. Soul of Carrenio was with them but was denied his attendance at the banquet, finally running out and watching the glasses lips and stoles spent his neck.

                                          
          ­                      Numbered Mysterious Death
                                                  Mané

If I have to feel floe on my feet and cold in my prayers will be the Dark Glory. What is slimming rays of the day, everything smelled of silence, maybe it was Kennedy, or better was The Mané.

Closure of my glory suffers the wind...
Flowers lying silence my soul alight,
Thick square displays the song of my voice...
When they speak Quadratils one to one order their
Spirituous voice.

And the spirit singing fiber of my heart told me:
Never you say I Exist ¡ not exist because they do not exist!
Only face daily the different reflection of your body
In front of yourself with another face and another body...

I want to talk with the thought
And this same subtract my little silhouette,
Lavishes wingless bird that flies only in their theology...
That is the duty and melt with my look,
Solid colors components
Crunching the altars of heaven retaining its pale warmth of anorexia.

Yellow Glory hair good event...
If you receive yellow lights, plus I do not sing my own game here in my empty veins,
Yellow my heart...
Yellow my heart
Yellow my collective heart.

They are run by large green and sunny meadows, children who had Mane in this major milestone in its last gasp. Now she is the mother of his children; it up and them in the last temptation of the mystery of death.

Carrenio keeps rolling, the brightness offered his Golden wagon to the ground. Gold grooves ago, and looking at where it realizes that it's landmass light mud. Since he felt whispers from the confines of time he had never felt as if you were finishing your journey or the world. It raining years and years and continues because nobody mends the mysterious death Numbered.

Heaven and Earth did not hold, the bottom fell precipitously pocket Lord and denied several times uncontained. She shivered in the World and the rooster crowed several times to never be heard or the Pentagon.

He is walking and knees bent,
we embraced by the golden chariot and oxen nor held
we bent us all lying on his knees,
up shoulders not hear from where came the bad grace of his departure,
numbered all the time of complaints of how then she would come,
It is unknown who would be but brought wine in his hand on the crispy mask
We ran from side to side and nothing was real

Everything seemed to sing in the chapel on a sad day,
But I hear loudly like Latin and watchfulness,
Those who know his mystery is no stranger to them
They all look but transgress the sin of silence.

Carrenio still absorbed in the hallway,
Angulo ellipsis she comes winged like a star burning tar,
A high speed to give us the new
No garden can deprive greet in speed visit
Dome comes, it comes on the eve of the new moon.

Numbered Widow mysterious,
Mané is a land of golden color and no celestial whoever wants in his cell,
A breath test, and feeding the Toffy and his henchmen
That sustaining more lively detail, there is no one that can not be targeted

It was modern, it was night, it was his torn life as an accomplice of his exile abandonment in his allegory of tender dismissal. Carrenio achieved so say goodbye to the beams of light that told him of the mysterious death Numbered. He sat on the roadside and drank some wine. Then dry with his handkerchief his neck, and have never wanted to experience such an event in a toast ever drunk.

Third Ellipsis Angle  of  New Era

Independence of Chile, it concerns Mapuche atingent case. Araucania pound, then 1818 central Chile. In Brief, Earth makes free an entire nation. His naive and primitive braves inhabitants emancipated themselves from all sides, they came to save a people who were just following where nobody can reach. Independence of the United States separates us for approximately 42 years, breaking up owners of nowhere. Industrial Abolitionist and South Slaver and Agraria. The biggest event that more than 640, 000 men and fallen activists planted safely from repression fields.

In Chile all rule resembled this secession in today's Araucano man prays for his fallen by almost more than 3 centuries in Chilean lands of Araucanía’s men. Lautaro genius and his supporters the heart of Pedro de Valdivia ate; Map ever made to your battle mapping Tucapel. "Initiation and final symbol occurred after 282 years of fierce war" and Mapuche land forever their independence from the Spanish Empire Captain-General important in foreign lands never subjected to foreign rule would eat.

The Machis and Loncos make supplications in native forests falling on them pollen on its back as if nothing out 10 times better...

To Libertas strengthen in the west is necessary to push the limits of the earth beneath his tongue and penance for the greedy entangled in the lines of bloodied sky, rebellions Chieftains death-defying all together at the edge of a cliff. 1769 The Pehuenches led by Lebian Cacique, joined the Mapuches razing Yumbel and Laja, the most peaceful Huilliches also joined mass alerting perhaps innocent people land blood-stained war and the Mackay Luchsinger.

No doubt portals military rebellion trigger blood, where they opened a tip and swords in the past. Here's reading concern is that the succession is timeless time, a sword without a sword, but on the tip of her blood is seen where there were herds and warriors crushed by their own footsteps. Here the phenomenon of freedom begins; Humanity runs treading his own footsteps, to save his family from a threat, but not strange forces that force you to use your defenses, because in the groves populate many helpless souls with his sword unused at the expense of being forced to use.

Freedom genome; It aims to reach where it has not come without looking back,
Chalices pour out is where the troubadours do not cuddle her close looks like time, singing while watching the changes are not of a new life


Heaven star,
Come to me,
I ask a sign to see them arrive,
Because I want to thus been dragged
Being together Eager to feel...
Those respites without being comforted
going to the mouth of the serpent.

About the Garden,
My home is to put my love,
He has to put the days imagining close...
To enjoy yourself is nonexistent...

Oh, my house tormenting me...!
Because in it I feel your smell
They are alone lights
Where I would wait for me to be in the dark...

In the coming future,
You will not see or hear my anger...
Perhaps my happiness nor peace praying
As the spear in the hands of the perpetrator.

You know a storm of whispers
I do sow your name in the wilderness,
It's because my judgments of hope
They mount up arable land deposited in my frenzy
Misled by a love which is my love.

But you never understand,
Because time has invaded my dwelling,
Invading my brain to give
It has invaded my choosing to love...

On the grass path,
Every time I move away from you,
I turn to see if you have not been...

Love came,
And I think that leaves us alone to avail ourselves
Ranging in our time...


But I can not resist his silence,
For my house want the noise of its action,
Why keys to the gates that serve my understanding.

Tramples my heart the fragmenting oddities into smaller pieces,
Your answer that call.

Tur love be like if I had created...
As if only you had appreciated your beautiful creation.

Do not destroy your work expresses in his mystery give life to your dreams!
Man aiming better earth, ask some of you to join your dreams...

! Your wife of this land does not procrastinate your misfortune,
I discover far peaceful landscapes like an echo in the spring,
As large and deep as your forgiveness for loving me more


It tells the Earth to the Sun in its perky tear benefactress of new opportunities as good and healthy smile rainbow on the back of Oviedo sheep valleys of freedom of Pietrelcina life.

To be continued…

Mirza Ghalib Translations

Mirza Ghalib (1797-1869) is considered to be one of the best Urdu poets of all time. The last great poet of the Mughal Empire, Ghalib was a master of the sher (couplet) and the ghazal (a lyric poem formed from couplets). Ghalib remains popular in India, Pakistan, and among the Hindustani diaspora. He also wrote poetry in Persian.

It's Only My Heart!
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It’s only my heart, not unfeeling stone,
so why be dismayed when it throbs with pain?
It was made to suffer ten thousand darts;
why let one more torment impede us?



Inquiry
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The miracle of your absence
is that I found myself endlessly searching for you.



Near Sainthood
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Kanu V. Prajapati and Michael R. Burch

On the subject of mystic philosophy, Ghalib,
your words might have struck us as deeply profound
and we might have pronounced you a saint ...
Yes, if only we hadn't found
you drunk
as a skunk!



Ghazal
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Not the blossomings of songs nor the adornments of music:
I am the voice of my own heart breaking.

You toy with your long, dark curls
while I remain captive to my dark, pensive thoughts.

We congratulate ourselves that we two are different:
that this weakness has not burdened us both with inchoate grief.

Now you are here, and I find myself bowing—
as if sadness is a blessing, and longing a sacrament.

I am a fragment of sound rebounding;
you are the walls impounding my echoes.



The Mistake
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All your life, O Ghalib,
You kept repeating the same mistake:
Your face was *****
But you were obsessed with cleaning the mirror!



The Infidel
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ten thousand desires: each worth dying for ...
So many fulfilled, yet still I yearn for more.

Being in love, for me there was no difference between living and dying ...
and so I lived each dying breath watching you, my lovely Infidel, sighing                       afar.



Bleedings
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love requires patience but lust is relentless;
what colors must my heart leak, before it bleeds to death?



Ghazal
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Life becomes even more complicated
when a man can’t think like a man ...

What irrationality makes me so dependent on her
that I rush off an hour early, then get annoyed when she's "late"?

My lover is so striking! She demands to be seen.
The mirror reflects only her image, yet still dazzles and confounds my eyes.

Love’s stings have left me the deep scar of happiness
while she hovers above me, illuminated.

She promised not to torment me, but only after I was mortally wounded.
How easily she “repents,” my lovely slayer!



Ghazal
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It’s time for the world to hear Ghalib again!
May these words and their shadows like doors remain open.

Tonight the watery mirror of stars appears
while night-blooming flowers gather where beauty rests.

She who knows my desire is speaking,
or at least her lips have recently moved me.

Why is grief the fundamental element of night
when everything falls as the distant stars rise?

Tell me, how can I be happy, vast oceans from home
when mail from my beloved lies here, so recently opened?



Abstinence?
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let me get drunk in the mosque,
Or show me the place where God abstains!



Shared Blessings
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Drunk on love, I made her my God.
She soon informed me that God does not belong to any one man!



Exiles
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Often we have heard of Adam's banishment from Eden,
but with far greater humiliation, I depart your paradise.



To Whom Shall I Complain?
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To whom shall I complain when I am denied Good Fortune in acceptable measure?
Thus I demanded Death, but was denied even that dubious pleasure!



Ghazal
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You should have stayed a little longer;
you left all alone, so why not linger?

We’ll meet again, you said, some day similar to this one,
as if such days can ever recur, not vanish!

You left our house as the moon abandons night's skies,
as the evening light abandons its earlier surmise.

You hated me: a wife abnormally distant, unknown;
you left me before your children were grown.

Only fools ask why old Ghalib still clings to breath
when his fate is to live desiring death.


Bleedings
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Love requires patience while passion races;
must my heart bleed constantly before it expires?


Abstinence?
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Let me get drunk in the mosque,
Or show me the place where God abstains!


Step Carefully!
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Step carefully Ghalib—this world is merciless!
Here people will "adore" you to win your respect ... or your
downfall.


Drunk on Love
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Drunk on love, I made her my God.
She quickly informed me God belongs to no man!


Exiles
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

We have often heard of Adam's banishment from Eden,
but with far greater humiliation, I abandon your garden.


A lifetime of sighs scarcely reveals its effects,
yet how impatiently I wait for you to untangle your hair!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch


Every wave conceals monsters,
and yet teardrops become pearls.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch


I’ll only wish ill on myself today,
for when I wished for good, bad came my way.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch


People don’t change, it’s just that their true colors are revealed.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch


Ten thousand desires: each one worth dying for ...
So many fulfilled, and yet still I yearn for more!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation by Michael R. Burch


Oh naïve heart, what will become of you?
Is there no relief for your pain? What will you do?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation by Michael R. Burch


I get that Ghalib is not much,
but when a slave comes free, what’s the problem?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation by Michael R. Burch


My face lights up whenever I see my lover;
now she thinks my illness has been cured!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation by Michael R. Burch


If you want to hear rhetoric flower,
hand me the wine decanter.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation by Michael R. Burch


I tease her, but she remains tight-lipped ...
if only she'd sipped a little wine!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation by Michael R. Burch


While you may not ignore me,
I’ll be ashes before you understand me.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

NEW TRANSLATIONS 03-01-2025

I long to embrace her, Ghalib,
whose thought is the rose in its dress of petals.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wholly pledged to passion amid mundane life,
I worship lighting, lament the torched harvest.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Nights, sleep and composure are his,
who sleeps entwined in your disheveled mane.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As a single ray of sunlight damns the dew to oblivion,
so I’m destroyed by a single kind glance.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When I see her, my face lights up;
thus she thinks the patient is cured.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There’s no cure for passion, Ghalib. It’s the fire
that, ignited won’t burn, and, extinguished, refuses to die.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There, the arrogance of airs and appearances. Here, simple modesty.
If I were to meet her on the thoroughfare, would she invite me to her soiree?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I understood the merits of decorum and asceticism,
but wanted no part of them.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How could I have escaped,
when the sky spread its nets of stars?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

An arrowless quiver, no hunter lying in ambush?
I’m content in my corner of the cage.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Where does one plant the second footstep of longing, Lord,
when the first found an infinite desert?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Inquire with my heart about your negligent archery:
since there’s an arrow in my liver rather than higher.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Having murdered me, she foreswore further cruelty.
Such is her “repentance.”
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Thanks to passion, I developed a taste for life,
but seeking a cure for pain, I found pain beyond cure.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Due to weakness, my weeping became sighs.
Thus I learned water can evaporate.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To erase the thought of your elegant fingers
was to rip the fingernail from its flesh.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Rain pouring down from spring clouds
is like weeping in grief at death’s separation.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

GHALIB ON DRUNKENNESS

To hear my rose-bestrewing speech,
first place the flagon before me!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let someone too obedient for wine and honey
transform our paradise into hell.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Grief overflows the cup despite the abundance of wine,
but this cupbearer’s slave, what griefs do I have?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Leave me alone at ZamZam because spinning in circles makes me dizzy.
And besides, my pilgrim’s loincloth has wine stains!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Will the One grants you such glorious radiance, O Moon,
not also grant me glorious wine?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When the flagons and glasses are all filled,
the winehouse stands empty.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I drank wine all night, then at dawn
I washed the stains from my pilgrim’s loincloth.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When the winehouse has been departed, do we care where we go?
Whether to the mosque, the classroom or some Sufi lodge?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We’re unaccustomed to leisure:
when the winehouse door closed, we visited the Ka’ba.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We departed Paradise for illusions here,
but the inebriation’s overwhelmed by the hangover.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

GHALIB ON GHALIB

Who doesn’t know Ghalib?
He’s a good poet with a terrible reputation.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Although there are other excellent poets,
they say Ghalib excels them.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Think of Poetry as an enchanted world rich with meaning:
every word, Ghalib, that charms my verse.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

No matter where awareness flings its nets,
the Phoenix sleeps unseen in my nests of words.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

With his special style, Ghalib sang of subtleties.
It’s a public invitation, for friends in the know.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hearing my speech, accomplished critics
enjoined me to accessibility,
but my thoughts are complex
and if I don’t speak, I’m even harder to understand!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The rose bestows her glory, true,
but you have to open your eyes, Ghalib!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The shroud veiled my nakedness;
otherwise clothed, I disgraced life.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Confide in no one, Ghalib, for these days
no one keeps secrets, save the doors and walls.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When it’s allied with the enemy, there’s no trusting the heart.
My sighs? Ineffectual. My laments? In vain.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let me be punished, not tortured,
since I’m merely a sinner, not an infidel.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Something accounts for my reticence,
otherwise I can speak, can’t I?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

GHALIB ON LIFE AND LOVE

In a dream I transacted business with you,
but when I awoke there was neither profit nor loss.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All I know of my heart is this:
the more I sought it, the more you found it.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How to describe the intensity of her eyelashes?
I strung my clotted blood into coral prayer beads.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All my longings were silenced, transformed to blood.
Thus I became the extinguished lamp on a pauper’s grave.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Alas, union with her was not my destiny.
Our life together would only have meant more procrastination.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I knew from your delicacy that your vows were nebulous.
Had one been firm, it could not have been so easily broken.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Joy is a drop in Oblivion’s river,
but boundless pain soon becomes its cure.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I’m the captive of Love, the Huntress,
otherwise I’d have strength to flee.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your sidelong glances? Arousing.
Your cruelty? Demoralizing.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Her temper’s an inferno,
but I’ll be ****** if I don’t desire hellfire.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ten thousand airs and graces
negated by a single tantrum.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Where will the steed of life stop,
lacking hands on the reins and feet in the stirrups?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your glances, deadly daggers. Your winks, unerring.
You are allured by your own reflection.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If you can’t see my heart’s wound charring,
can’t you smell it, dear doctor?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I’m dying with the longing to die;
death comes, but not quickly enough.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We went to complain about her negligence,
but she dismissed us with a glance and we disintegrated.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Whence, world-warming sun ray? Why not shine here?
Yet strange darkness descends like a shadow.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Tyranny adores those who adore the tyrant;
she’s not cruel by being unkind.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Having adopted a mendicant’s rags, Ghalib,
I’m amazed by the spectacle of generous people.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I keep up awhile with each new jogger
yet fail to find a guide.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All creation moves toward entropy,
the sun a flickering candle in the wind.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fidelity if it holds fast is the root of faith;
if the Brahmin dies in the idol’s temple, bury him in the Ka’ba.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If I hadn’t been held up by day, would I have slept as comfortably by night?
Thankful for the theft, I bless the highwayman.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How small, our world to the oppressed
when a single ant’s egg is our entire sky.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You didn’t press your lips to another’s in kiss?
Save your breath, we also have tongues!
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Don’t fall for the illusion of existence, Asad,
when our world’s one link in the chain of thought.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Even if I live a few more days,
inside I’m resigned to someplace else.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My opposite became granite
when she saw my fluidity.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The rose unfurls as a means of taking leave;
fly, nightingale, fly, for the days of spring have fled.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Aloofness veils friendship;
when will you cease concealing you face from us?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Where is there anyone not in need?
Where is there anyone who can fill anyone’s need?
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The wealth of this world’s a lament, a handful of dust;
the sky’s a dull gray egg, to me.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why assume everyone would arrive at the same answer?
Come, let’s tour Mount Tur together.
—Mirza Ghalib, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Mirza Ghalib, translations, Urdu, Hindi, love, philosophy, heart, stone, sainthood



Earth’s least trace of life cannot be erased;
even when you lie underground, it encompasses you.
So, those of you who anticipate the shadows:
how long will the darkness remember you?
— by Mehmet Akif Ersoy, Turkish poet, loose translation by Michael R. Burch



The following translation is the speech of the Sibyl to Aeneas, after he has implored her to help him find his beloved father in the Afterlife, found in the sixth book of the Aeneid ...

The Descent into the Underworld
by Virgil
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The Sibyl began to speak:

“God-blooded Trojan, son of Anchises,
descending into the Underworld’s easy
since Death’s dark door stands eternally unbarred.
But to retrace one’s steps and return to the surface:
that’s the conundrum, that’s the catch!
Godsons have done it, the chosen few
whom welcoming Jupiter favored
and whose virtue merited heaven.
However, even the Blessed find headway’s hard:
immense woods barricade boggy bottomland
where the Cocytus glides with its dark coils.
But if you insist on ferrying the Styx twice
and twice traversing Tartarus,
if Love demands you indulge in such madness,
listen closely to how you must proceed...”



Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936) was a Spanish poet, playwright and theater director. He was assassinated by Nationalist forces at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War and his body was never found.

Gacela of the Dark Death
by Federico Garcia Lorca
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I want to sleep the dreamless sleep of apples
far from the bustle of cemeteries.
I want to sleep the dream-filled sleep of the child
who longed to cut out his heart on the high seas.

I don't want to hear how the corpse retains its blood,
or how the putrefying mouth continues accumulating water.
I don't want to be informed of the grasses’ torture sessions,
nor of the moon with its serpent's snout
scuttling until dawn.

I want to sleep awhile,
whether a second, a minute, or a century;
and yet I want everyone to know that I’m still alive,
that there’s a golden manger in my lips;
that I’m the elfin companion of the West Wind;
that I’m the immense shadow of my own tears.

When Dawn arrives, cover me with a veil,
because Dawn will toss fistfuls of ants at me;
then wet my shoes with a little hard water
so her scorpion pincers slip off.

Because I want to sleep the dreamless sleep of the apples,
to learn the lament that cleanses me of this earth;
because I want to live again as that dark child
who longed to cut out his heart on the high sea.

Gacela de la huida (“Ghazal of the Flight”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I have been lost, many times, by the sea
with an ear full of freshly-cut flowers
and a tongue spilling love and agony.

I have often been lost by the sea,
as I am lost in the hearts of children.

At night, no one giving a kiss
fails to feel the smiles of the faceless.
No one touching a new-born child
fails to remember horses’ thick skulls.

Because roses root through the forehead
for hardened landscapes of bone,
and man’s hands merely imitate
roots, underground.

Thus, I have lost myself in children’s hearts
and have been lost many times by the sea.
Ignorant of water, I go searching
for death, as the light consumes me.



La balada del agua del mar (“The Ballad of the Sea Water”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The sea
smiles in the distance:
foam-toothed,
heaven-lipped.

What do you sell, shadowy child
with your naked *******?

Sir, I sell
the sea’s saltwater.

What do you bear, dark child,
mingled with your blood?

Sir, I bear
the sea’s saltwater.

Those briny tears,
where were they born, mother?

Sir, I weep
the sea’s saltwater.

Heart, this bitterness,
whence does it arise?

So very bitter,
the sea’s saltwater!

The sea
smiles in the distance:
foam-toothed,
heaven-lipped.



Paisaje (“Landscape”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The olive orchard
opens and closes
like a fan;
above the grove
a sunken sky dims;
a dark rain falls
on warmthless lights;
reeds tremble by the gloomy river;
the colorless air wavers;
olive trees
scream with flocks
of captive birds
waving their tailfeathers
in the dark.



Canción del jinete (“The Horseman’s Song” or “Song of the Rider”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Cordoba. Distant and lone.
Black pony, big moon,
olives in my saddlebag.
Although my pony knows the way,
I never will reach Cordoba.

High plains, high winds.
Black pony, blood moon.
Death awaits me, watching
from the towers of Cordoba.

Such a long, long way!
Oh my brave pony!
Death awaits me
before I arrive in Cordoba!

Cordoba. Distant and lone.



Arbolé, arbolé (“Tree, Tree”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sapling, sapling,
dry but green.

The girl with the lovely countenance
gathers olives.
The wind, that towering lover,
seizes her by the waist.

Four dandies ride by
on fine Andalusian steeds,
wearing azure and emerald suits
beneath long shadowy cloaks.
“Come to Cordoba, sweetheart!”
The girl does not heed them.

Three young bullfighters pass by,
slim-waisted, wearing suits of orange,
with swords of antique silver.
“Come to Sevilla, sweetheart!”
The girl does not heed them.

When twilight falls and the sky purples
with day’s demise,
a young man passes by, bearing
roses and moonlit myrtle.
“Come to Granada, sweetheart!”
But the girl does not heed him.

The girl, with the lovely countenance
continues gathering olives
while the wind’s colorless arms
encircle her waist.

Sapling, sapling,
dry but green.



Despedida (“Farewell”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If I die,
leave the balcony open.

The boy eats oranges.
(I see him from my balcony.)

The reaper scythes barley.
(I feel it from my balcony.)

If I die,
leave the balcony open!



In the green morning
I longed to become a heart.
Heart.

In the ripe evening
I longed to become a nightingale.
Nightingale.

(Soul,
become the color of oranges.
Soul,
become the color of love.)

In the living morning
I wanted to be me.
Heart.

At nightfall
I wanted to be my voice.
Nightingale.

Soul,
become the color of oranges.
Soul,
become the color of love!



I want to return to childhood,
and from childhood to the darkness.

Are you going, nightingale?
Go!

I want return to the darkness
And from the darkness to the flower.

Are you leaving, aroma?
Go!

I want to return to the flower
and from the flower
to my heart.

Are you departing, love?
Depart!

(To my deserted heart!)

Vi lovede hinanden hele den store verden dengang
Tiderne var anderledes, klokken var 22 når den var 17.
Vi havde stjerneregn af kæmpemæssige følelser
Som vi åd af hinanden, slikkede og fik kuldegysninger.
Lange aftener, som fik det hele til at vare dobbelt kort.
Jeg er ikke engang sikker på at jeg savner det
Eller dig. Eller noget af det vi gjorde sammen
Men en del har bidt sig fast. Jeg er blevet ramt
Af en virus. En fejl i mit liv, som du har plantet
I mig og min indre globe og færden, når jeg søger
Efter ting, som jeg umuligt kan få, finde eller fjerne
Jeg er syg, og mit immunforsvar svækkes, men
Jeg går i skole. Jeg lever mit liv videre, med
Tanken om at jeg ikke ved hvornår det stopper
Jeg vil lukke følelsen af dig/det/os ud af mig selv
Du styrer alt det du ikke må og du får alt så let
Så jeg lever livet videre, jeg lærer at ignorere det mave
Sår du har plantet i mig. Jeg sover det væk.
Drømmer mig væk fra realiternes smerter. For jeg kan
Ikke klare det hele. Jeg ser ikke klart. Jeg mærker ikke
Det lys som alle siger kommer, og når de andre fortæller
Mig at det hele er hurtigt glemt. Tvivler jeg på mig selv og
På mine følelser. For jeg har ingen følelser, ingen tanker
Ingenting. Jeg har ikke noget og jeg er fortabt. For alt hvad
Jeg vil have og eje er fysisk kontakt med dig. Jeg vil se på
Dig se på mig. Jeg vil have at du fortæller mig at jeg er smuk
Og så er det det, efter vi har kysset. Så er det det. For man skal
Ikke sådan noget. For det spil vi spiller er farligt. Med et hug
Bliver man slået hjem. Hvis ikke man lander på stjernen eller
På verdenstegnet. Så er det hjem, uden noget som helst.
Vi er en tikkende bombe. For hvor mange sekunder går der
IKKE før du egentlig finder ud af hvem jeg er, vi er, du er.
Til du finder ud af at du er bedre. Jeg kan ikke. Jeg tænker
Jeg kan. Men det hele er forkert. Jeg er kommet til at bruge alt
For mange kræfter på ting man kan få kræft af. Jeg er styret af den
Kraft du har. Jeg bliver ved med at bryde mig selv ned, selvom de
Andre nogle gange prøver at få mig op og stå igen. Det (s)eneste
Som jeg ikke har, er alt det jeg ikke kan få. Og jeg ved ikke
Engang hvad det er, eller om jeg er sikker på at jeg ved det på
Et tidspunkt. Jeg løber en tur væk fra mig selv. Jeg prøver
At eskapere fra verden. Jeg er flygtning fra mig selv.
Så kom her. Læg dig sammen med mig. Lad os lytte til din stemme
Bare et par mange gange, så jeg kan høre på alle de kloge ting
Du gør og siger. Ligesom den gang jeg gjorde det før.
Dengang det hele var godt.
Da vi to ejede verden, og hinanden. Men det gjorde vi ikke.
For du er helt ny, opstået så pludseligt, men sådan er det bare.

.
"That there Is'belle's house stinks wunderful turr'ble,"croaked Emma Beiler at their quilting bee.
"Jah...vell," sighed Rosanna Yoder. "All them there katzes , ain't so?"
Accordingly the two ladies set out to pay Travis and Isabella Salter a visit, only to be politely told that they had were in the process of taking some cats to a local shelter.
Two weeks passed and to the Amish folks' disgust the odour had merely intensified.
"Them there Englisch are chust liars!" Potato Sam spat the words out along with a *** of chewing tobacco.
" Ach, vell," sighed  his wife Rosanna, unaware of her heavily sweating underarms. The Ordnung  strictly forbade deodorant as well as perfume. "Reckon I best  mosey over and see fur myself."
Travis opened the door with a tired sigh.
'Chust thought I'de ask vhat fur stinks yer house up so vonderful tur'ble...Izzy tells us youse gettin' rid of them but-"
A puzzled look crossed Travis weary face as he glanced toward the kitchen. Irritation gripped him, not lessened as Rosanna glowered at Tabby washing her face on the couch. Then a waft of a familiar scent, overpowering, drifted toward him from the kitchen. Brussel sprouts enhanced by -.
With all the stress, Isabelle was increasing her calming herbs, mixing the powders.... Valerian?
"Good evening, Mrs. Yoder." He motioned her toward the door, locking it firmly behind her. For a long time after she was gone he stood staring out the window.

Es.. sēžu savā istabā un domāju
gulta cieta kā akmens
istaba klusa kā kaps,
bet es sēžu..
sēžu un klausos
logam pavērtam, es dzirdu
mašīnu trokšņus un sirēnas
cilvēku balsis un smieklus
skaisti.
Paveros pa logu
un ko es redzu tur?
mājas ar iedegtām gaismām istabās
mana vienīgā laikam tumša kā nakts
ne gaismas stariņš, ne sveces liesma
nekas... vienīgi tumsa
bet man patīk..
pat vairāk
es m ī l u.
Tumsa ir skaista
tā asocējas ar miegu
un miegs man ir vajadzīgs.
Bieži naktīs nevaru aizmigt,
jo dažādas domas galvā staigā
Taču tagad
domas ir aizgājušas
un es gribu gulēt
nē...
a i z m i g t

viņa atgriezās mājās
acīs viņai bija redzamas skumjas
viņa nesaprata
galvā skanēja jautājums:
kāpēc
taču atbildi tā arī nesadzirdēja
atbilde kā mākonis
tūlīt pat izgaisa
pirms viņa spēja to saķert
rokas neklausīja
arī pārējie locekļi sekoja
viņa vēlējās kaut spētu izslēgt prātu
kā gaismas slēdzi
domas tai atņēma skābekli
taču mūzika to atkal papildināja..
"tev patika šīs dziesmas"
viņa domāja
izveidotas miljoniem skaistas atmiņas
tūkstošiem iemūžinātu mirkļu
prātā, uz ķermena un dvēselē
nezinu, vai tu vēl par to domā
tavas domas droši vien peld kaut kur citur
šķiet lietus ir noslāpējis atmiņas
pāri palikušas tikai peļķes
kādas pēdas tajās bradā
un samīda
un nosmacē
bet tomēr
kaut kas tur sakustās
es redzu tavu atspulgu
tu tomēr ieskaties
varbūt tomēr ieraudzīsi

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alle billederne skal passe til dit feed og hvis du ikke får nok likes sletter du det igen
reposter   når du lige kan få nogen flere likes
du har din Mac læbesift på og perfekte optegnet øjenbryn
Du er en rigtig insta tøs!

a bone colored evening sighs razor blades across the sky
deep seeded (den)rut tur(ned) on an axis,
spinning the evening into an oddening.
the pantry is bare.

somewhere, a baby cries for the love of a mother
who is slumbering in half-sleep,
hoping the child will forget she knows her
and forget to weep.

the sun dipped it's radiance hours ago
to wake another part of the world,
leaving a chaperone dimly lit with wonder.
moon-gazers stare.

"Why is he there?"

legs are tangled, twisted fates,
star-crossed lovers long to touch
under the watchful pin-****** of the night sky.
souls align to be snipped of the mate's burden.

And the cows, with their moon howls,
lay low in swept grass showers,
watching the entwined shadows
watch them with fascism fascination.
waiting to pounce.

hushed silence fills the air.
hands clasp and unclasp,
fitting in the empty spaces you never notice
until they're filled; emptied again.
the sky blows a wish.
light is exstingui(shed).

es elpoju rīta vēju
un skrienu sniegpārslām līdzi
sniegā eņģeļus taisu
un ceļu sniegavīrus.
sniega pārsla uz degungala apstājas
un paliek tur līdz ar dūraini to noslauku.
sajūtas kā trako namā,
kur apkārt vienīgi baltās krāsas.
kāds no mugurpuses maigi pagrūž
tas ir vējš, kurš vēl dzenās pakaļ sniega pārslām.
tālumā redzami sniega virpuļi
kā tie gaudo un skrien
bet tad aizlido

When times get
Hard, the going gets writing.
And the times are hard, but
Things get worst before they get any better.

As a bruise is when it's healing.

Coming from a young person with no where to go,
As I run from this creature.
This big, dark creature who's
Chasing me, there's no where to
Hide, or so it thinks...

Down the street...nope, it's right behind me.
On the roof...nah, it's there too.
No where to turn,
No where to go, oh but wait...
I* got my secret place, but d*amn it! It's
Even there as well--in my writing. *In my place.

Parlamentarisme rimer ikke på
Flertalsdiktatur
Men i mit snævre hoved
Kommer det til syne på tur
?patriarken er autoritær?
De lyver oppe på borgen
Synger sange om at være os nær
Efterlader os til sorgen
Relevansen er ligegyldig
De lod en matriark drage stemmer
Væltede patriarken med alle lemmer
Bankede hele folket ned
Som endnu et af borgens spil
Det er ligegyldigt hvad de siger
Man kan da ikke have en statsminister
Til at støtte vores piger
Kampen for feminisme
Blev hurtigt frosset af hans isse
De har fandme bare at holde kæft
Ingen af dem burde arbejde i den gesjæft
De skal alle brænde en dag
Skærsilden lader ingen gå tilbag'
De kan alle spinne som de vil
Men en dag så er det **** som et spil
De ender deres omgang
Synger den samme sang
Skattesnydere alle sammen
Jeg føler mig så vammel
En dag skal jeg stemme
Om min tanke vil væmme?
?Jeg stemmer blankt
Mens jeg lytter til skambankt

hvad mon
du og jeg ville betro
hinanden i en af de der intime og
livsbekræftende snakke man
har med et menneske tidligt om
morgenen
i det mørke efterår
hvor resten af verden drømmer
og det eneste der er
vigtigt
er du og jeg
og vores sårbare slør af
følelser
jeg spekulerer ofte
over det
også
den nat hvor jeg spankulerede hen over trægulvet langsomt
og forsigtigt som var
det beklædt med blanke
glasskår fra knuste vinglas
hen til den lukkede dør
på den anden side af trappen
hvor jeg ved du er
men jeg tøver i det
jeg skal til at banke på
som om det virker
meningsløst
så jeg går tilbage
hen over gulvet uden at trække
vejret for de mange skår
af glas
er kommet under huden
og følelserne
bløder fra mine fødder
til der ikke er mere
tilbage og jeg håber
du vil gå den samme tur
over gulvet til den anden
side af trappen til der
hvor jeg er og bløde følelser
fra dine fødder så vi
en nat kan føle alting
sammen
mens resten af verden
drømmer

for sandheden er at jeg har fucket op
og at du også har fucket op
og sandheden er at du kunne kvæle mig
og at jeg sgu nok stadig ville sige undskyld
fordi jeg fik dig der ud til det punkt
hvor du følte det var nødvendigt for at få mig til at holde kæft
og sandheden er at selvom jeg burde daffe
at mit vindue stadig er åbent
men jeg bor på femte sal
og når jeg ved hvordan du er og hvordan du tænker
så tror jeg ikke dine svedige håndflader
ville kunne klare en tur op af vandrøret
(A.M)

Det er nat og mørkets kryb
myldrer frem.
Det er deres tur til at se lyset.
Alle sover men
-
ikke jeg.
Jeg er totalt plugged
mens sangene fra piger der intet føler
buldrer igennem mine ører og
Fylder mit indre
Med tørre tårer
og tomme ord.
Akkurat som dem du lukker ud.
Sangene gør mine følelser flade
og snart
er jeg intet.
Ligesom dem.
Det er nat.

Stiplede linjer viser mig vejen
En mor der tager sit barn i hånden
Guider igennem sort røg
Forvirrede forbipasserende
Jordens galskab
Til pastelbesatte stier
og stjernesten

Liv kommer mig i møde
Flade væsner med hjerter i hænderne
Spænding mellem vores kroppe
Vores verdener kulminerer
Dækker industribygningerne
med sarte solskinsstrejf,
lyserøde skyer
og sammenplantninger

Min tur til Venus
flettede himlene sammen

Columbia (Robert N, RN, equal to 124 cf.,
a pair of gods, or equal to 124 a pair,
a pair of CFT 151 151 151 151 151 151 124 CFT
Denmark FTV, Willow Lira MIG, Columbus 1                           (Body Court)
and (3) 100 * 3000 3000.1000, volume,
Volume 2) Local 1010-1000) 50 1500
2501 2000 2000 2000 500 kg always 2-2105
Bongo two holes. Galakes (100)
1500 Israel, Australia Cliff Richard (2000),
(Two years ago) 215 2000-3 Thailand - (50) 500
Atlas Marukuro 500 Arcs 1500 (6) c)
Columbus, Amazon, Asian *** grabber 3000
Thomas Arthur, Arthur;                       APHAMSIATI 3000 Russian drivers
2 microfiber glass 22g) Zebrafish DNA.                                  505 horsefish
10:00, 10 January 2000, Austria,
January 2000 CMR 350-2000; (Research)
Development in Latin America)
rapid representatives in London
2 Amazon Belize LSBOS
3505 g (2), SGL (500) and Imitation I.EP
Tims Chrome. 124, E, H, 1000 GMT;
1 Denmark (FIFA) 100 3000 3000 2501
2. The Iranian 2/2000 2000 2000;
What happened in Africa, Jeremy
Sôasôa three hands, 2105 (7)
There is nothing to them,              the events of 16 100.600.3000.3000 km2,
July 6th. Test Israel (game) (600 Israel)
1500-1500, flavor and punch,     (2500)
1000 1500. or 2000 215 Juan Luna
3-6 February; 1000 Columbia City
50 in the city, Arthur's Door Press, 3000
Sons, Iva relay weekend - 2 HPP
Istarumque's diameter of Huntersville;
1000.505 500 meters. 1) 1000
2 to Hawaii, carrots, 2, x, x, 1000
2000 2 105 501 2 1500-2000 Company
Japan, especially at a time t
1, 1.1 1000 100 3000 3000 2100 Good
Nundy Ruhora Nundy it;
Galakes (100) What bitumen-1500 bhyulul
                                                hosa
The waters Remusaāsṭrēliyākusan
vatsarālakāryakramaṁ.  Yokka Adhilibhag
receives. The only beautiful and famous
Bongo redamariaitarulaparimāṇaṁfair
(2) kolambiyā (10M, sugar - 1000) 50
1500 2501 2000 taip 2000-2000.   Richard
Riding (2000), 2000-2005 - 50;
1500 · 1 000 50 500 0 - Tur (i)  - Columbus,
Arthaus: 3000 article Thamas Arthausraṣyan
(22) 500 3000 Maikro Aiphati FM (2500)
Janavari (2) the DNA cavalry Notropls Mariya
1000 (Glamula)) 2) Zebrafish DNA zebrafish;                                 Mariya
1000 Mariya;                                                 A HARM Krister Yokka Kirti.
(2) 1000 due car zebrafish fish;
The seas AHARM Krister Yokka Kirti.       Gaṇṭalu
àsṭriyāgba (505) sanvatsarāluPADI. Cicero Oberlln
Espinai field 2) or G 3AmejānL
Netherlands 505 (100) 1 (FIFA) 3000 3000 2501
2100 2000 2000 250 Abary bed-F;
February 2000 today? (100) - 1 (Scotty)
Outputs 2-16 100,3000,3000 Mariyamariya
500,000 kilometers.                                             This is one of the names -
Two, try Mary, 2105, Jamie
Sosa. 2. little thin (100) less than the (100) -.
Until late 1500 to begin
Light 00-2 Lal. Glass (2500) [          ] Gold Key moon -
3 1000 2 2000 500 215 1500 - 50 written observations
San Kaan Haar Sanbazaru am (Nadivaṇṭidi)
Arthur Ramat 1000.500.505 Mary anulu
expensive. 1) 1000: Phalitālu x 2 x Havay
2000 2000 2000 2000 1500 10 2 2 ™ Panṣaga
(2501) · edition, John March 3000
Marcus HPP grāmuluJong, 105Nippon
wahimi tsuohoji shiteita, Hungarian Kampf
Black happy Osaka 1) 3000-3000 (1)
It is important to understand that
People understand. 100.2 to 1000 -
500 kg, the cheese, WA Bongo cast into the oven,              which is purified
(2) Koronbia (10M, Sato - 1000) 50 1500
2501 2000 2000 2000 Type 2-2105 Garacus
(100) Joan, 1500 - The carpet ostatora
2 2 ™ solution is the solution riawa.
Chīfurichādo (2000) 215 2000 - Thailand
3 - Luna 50, 500 - 500 - 500 Marukukaro;
(6) (c) Columbus, Amazon ASINING
Asa Yorubā3000screen 3000 Phatr
Russian FM 50-2 0 2 _ Music
It is not for a long time IEP Tim. 124, E, H, 1000 GMT
1 Denmark (FIFA) 100 3000 3000 2501
2000 2000 2/20 hospitals   (see rn N stores gods cfr. equal to the gods, gods enemy of Clitractus 151, 151, WA 151;
151 100 151 151 124 if you have a CFT
cassettes, and Political Economy) denkku FTV,
Riras Yanagi MIG, Korona Basu 1 (Shoku
Yoyu) oyobi (3) 100 1000 * 3000 3000;
Glass 2) What is ice Bongo 1010-nen
Sato Saishu WA - 1000) 50 1500 2501
Hens 2000 2 Mac 2000-500 (2000-nen)) 215
2000 - 3-500 Atorasuāchi March Marrorough
1500, 500. 50. (6) - 100 Amazon Koronbasu
St. Thomas & Asia, Asia 3000, 3000 Gurabo
Roshi FM: 22 hectares of Oka team 2)
The fisherman said, Glory 1 505 1000 2000-nen
Nicholls Tsuki 10-2000 ututoria;           350 goat
2000 NSU Tsuki 1, fast Rondon Berizo
RMC can sing (US Kenkyu Kaihatsu
United States). Amazon is engaged
Therefore, March 2 505 G (2), SGL
(500) WA futuristsu or arimasen
The Iriist ISTrial. 124, E, H, 1000 GMT
1 kg (FIFA):  100 3000 5000 25012000
2000 bun'no 2-2 Shinpo, Iran, South
Africa here? Mary 2105 baishunpu
         Jeremiah Shasha                  Buzoku system of philosophy (7) U-2
100, 600, 3000, 3000 Kiro 16.07 Yuwaku
Mark hockey and Maalox Issura (a)
6, Socrates or a bird, and North Florida (600) 1500-1550 -6 broken, but overall ... Robert Columbia responded to CLI (DNS, RN, clinique equal to the CLI itself, CLI equal footing CFT 124 and 124 will be equal to the gods, and CFT 151 151 pairs 151 151 151 151 124 CFT Denmark FTV, Willow Lira MIG, kolomibiši 1 (P / home)
And (3) 100 * 3000 3000.1000, magnifying
Volume 2 (1010-1000 local) 50 1500
2-2105Bongo always have two corners. Callus (100)
1500 Israel, Australia Passage kilidi Richard (2000)
(Two years ago) 215 2000-3 Thailand - (50) 500
Atlas stars merukuro 500 1500 (6) c)
Columbus, Amazon, Asian Survey 3000 āšišiteni
MSI MSI ATI Thomas āritēri 3000 APHA driver skill reshiyenye
2 glass microfiber 22G) Zebrafish DNA zibe fishi horse shot 505
January 10 to 10, 2000, Austria,
January 2000 CMR 350-2000 (search)
And an increase in Latin America)
Quick representative in London London
2 Amazon Belize LSBOS
3505 kg (2), SGL (500,) and IES Asia
Chrome times. 124, E, H, 1000 km
1 Denmark (Unknown) 100 3000 3000 2501
2. Iranian 2/2000 2000 2000 e-mail:
Africa, and, what is that to me, Philip?
Šošošo three hands, 2105 (7)
That the only thing that is to say, it has the speed 100.600.3000.3000 16 km2,                |                                            ­        and have much the same,
                        July 6 (Game) 600 check Israel)
1500-1500, tasteless and Punched                     |(2500)
1500 Juan Luna, or Columbia city
50 in the city, Arthur Teller Press, 3000
Birds, EVA relay at the end of the week - 2 HPP
Qatar Yehāniterišešivili išekemēli
1000.505 500 m. 1) 1000
2 to Hawaii, calcium carbonate, 2, Lord, Lord, 1000
The crowd Japan, especially in time T
11 The raspberry Nundy Nundy;
Galaxy (100) What is luhoše TURF t'imit'i -1500?
water remešetiriliyekišušeni
Vetišerelekiririkereme yokeke ādihāhāhāgi
He said. Only the beautiful and famous
Bongo rēyimeriyerech'eperimeniye'āyiferi
(2) kolambiyā (10 m, sugar - 1000) 50
Building of 2000-2000. Palestine
Work (2000), 2000-2005 - 50;
· 500 1500 50,000 50 1 0 - dered to Columbus;
Arthaus 3000 title Tamas convenient āri'āwizere
(22) 500 3000 mekero glorify FM (2500)
Jeverus (2) Zebrafish DNA cavalry seas navel
1000 (kwamemole)) 2) Zebrafish DNA: Yazidi honori
seas ārifepirimi Krister yokeke maria 1000 card.
(2) 1000 fish and sea fish.
Christ Gaal Andrew East Aham yokoke
àsṭriyāgba (505) sanvatsarāluPADI.       Cicero Oberlln
Field Espinai 2) or G 3AmejāLL
Netherlands 505 (100) 1 (O) 3000 3000 2501
2100 2000 2000 250 Abary bed-F.
February 2000 today? (100) 1 (Scotty)
Results 2-16 100.3000.3000 meriyemiriyeriye
This name is 500,000 km kemininyewi
The two, Mary, 2105, the price of Benjamin?
SoSe. 2. In a small (100) and lower (100) -.
Until the end of 1500 to begin
Light -2 00 | XII. Glasses (2500), Golden Key yesterday -
written notes, Marcus šebeberuru song san    (nedivenētini)
Arthur 1000.500.505 high to match the way you want them
Expense. 1) 1000: Phalitāl × 2 Havay
2000 2000 2000 2000 2000 10 2 2 ™ penishige
(2501) · Standard edition, John March 3000
Jan M. pi.pi ​​giremelu: 105 nopini
The camp was wahimi tsuohoji *****, a Hungarian,
Black is a welcome Osaka 1) 3000-3000 (1)
to add ipsum dolor sit amet
She protection. 100.2-1000 -
To 500 kg of cheese, WA Bongo is (2) Koronbia (10 m, Sato --1,000) was purified in the oven, 501, 500
2501 2000 2000 2000 Type 2-2105 Garacus
(100) John, 1500 - Carpets and ostata
2 2 Riawa solution.                     Chififuchido (2000) 215 2000 - Thailand
3 - Luna, 50, 500 - 500-500 Marukukaro
(6) c) Columbus, Banda Origin
ASA Yoruba3000screen 3000 Phatr
Russian FM 50-2 0 2 _ Music
IEP is not a long time, Tim. 124, E, H, 1000 km
1 Denmark (Unknown) 100 3000 3000 2501
2000 2000 2/20 hospitals (151 CF stores the DNA of the enemy, clitractus: 151, WA 151 View all other gods I
151 100 151 151 124 If you make money and terrorist funding
Barry Standard) ditirikiku FTV;
Riras MIG could not find Yanagi, Paso 1  (Shoku
Yoyu) oyobi (3) 100 1000 * 3000 3000
Lily lily 2) Snow-NEN 1010 Bongo What is this?
Saishu agency WA - 1000) 50 1500 2501
Chicken 2000 2 Mac 2000-500 (2000's))
2000 - 3-500 ātilešiše March Marrorough
1500, 500. 50. (6) 100 Amazon koribobešu
St. Thomas Asia 3000 3000 gurebo
A. F. Petra Antiqua 22 hectares of Group 2)
1-NEN 2000 1000 505 Fisherman
Nikolizikiki 10-2000 āwito'ātire 350 stuff;
1-2000 juniši Sook, Ron quickly Berizo
Āri.ēmi.ēni. Song (Kenkyu Kaihatsu United States)
United States). Amazon is
Therefore, on March 2, 505 G (2), SGL
(500) W or āwirešiti šurišitušu ārimišeni
Āyiriti itirireli 124 EH, 1000 km
1 kg (Unknown) 3000 100 (5) 25012000
2-2 shinipo brown 2000, South IRENINA
Africa here? Mary bešechufu 2105
Jeremiah fled Buzuku highway system (7) and -2
100, 600, 3000, 3000 Krogh 16.07 yuweku
Marc hockey and Malcolm bundles (a)
6, birds and šok'iret'išitochi North Florida
(600) -6 rest of 1500-1550, almost ...

Hvad laver jeg her, i dette vildrede kvarter?
Jeg går rundt fra dør til dør, for at finde dig.
Men det er som om du ikke længere er tilstede!
Jeg er blevet ført til ukendte steder, men nu er jeg alene.
Hvad var meningen med denne tur?
Jeg står tilbage med en følelse af tomhed, jeg er tom, så er det sagt!
Har aller mest lyst til at råbe, men du er døv, så det er til ingen nytte.
Så hvorfor er jeg alene, selvom om vennerne er nære?
Jo nu skal du høre!
Dit nærvær har fravær, og du er der ikke til tiden, jeg har ventet og jeg venter, men der må være sket en fejl, for hvorfor venter jeg på noget som ikke dukker op?!

Luften er tom og tung
Det er køligt
Jeg har valgt at cykle en tur
En måske god vane jeg har fået
Cykler ud langs skanderborgvej
Det er ret stille kun nogen enkle biller kommer forbi
Og kun nogen enkle tåre triller ned af mine kinder
Tårerne er en blanding af hvor godt jeg har og hvor skidt jeg har det
Jeg kan ikke finde ud af hvordan jeg har det.

lad mig tage på en tur i dine tanker
lad dem føre mig hen til et ukendt sted
lad denne ekspedition gøre mig klogere på dig og livet
lad mig tage afsted i nat.

dağınık günler için
armut şarabı
iyi bir toparlayacı
iliklenmekten
imtina eden yıldızların
mozerella sohbeti altında
çileğin dudak çatlağına
iyi geldiğini anlatır
dalgakıran şarapçıları
nevi şahsına münhasır
eski aşklar
genç bir martının kanatlarında
süzülür plastik bardaklara

büyük kayalıkların
altında tur atan fümegillerin
dudakları uçuklar
iyi görünümlü, iğdiş edilmiş
aşk masalını solumaktan

her
aşkta devamlılığı olan
şeytan bir dişil
müdavim
ya da
eril bir iblis
hazır ve nazırdır
vuslatı hicranlamaya

filhakika
karşılar sabahı horoz
ses olur keşe

işte o anda
düetler ayeti giderayak
göğün kızları
aca-pella

ateş etme Joe, arabada köfte var...

OG JEG ER FYLDT MED ORD OG FØLELSER UDEN ORD
FYLDT MED LYDE OG FARVER OG LYS OG SANSER
DER IKKE EKSISTERER
FLYDENDE I MIN EGEN EKSISTENS I BOGSTAVERNES INDRE LOGIK
JEG GRIBER UD EFTER NYE ORD, NYE
KOMBINATIONSMULIGHEDER SOM DET
EVINDELIGT ÆNDREDE MØNSTER I
TØJET PÅ TØRRESNORREN
OG JEG TÆNKER PÅ KATTEN, DER HOPPEDE FRA TOPPEN PÅ
BILLEDERNE VI TOG OG STJERNERNE VI KIGGEDE PÅ
OM DE ER DER ENDNU
HVOR MEGET VI IKKE VED
HVOR LIDT VI EGENTLIGT VED
HVILKE MÆRKER VI SÆTTER PÅ STEDERNE VI EFTERLADER MENNESKERNE VI
GÅR FRA
OG DET HELE ULMER SOM LAVA UNDER STEN-HINDEN
SOM EN SNESTORM I DET YDRE ***, UFORKLARLIGT OG RASENDE
SOM BARN VAR DET MEST FORUNDERLIGE JEG KUNNE FORESTILLE MIG EN TUR I RUMMET
DET MEST OMVÆLTENDE OG
EKSISTENTIELLE OG JEG ER BANGE FOR AT
TABE DEN MÆLKETAND TABE DEN
URO DEN
MIDLERTIDIGHEDS-FORNEMMELSE AT ALTING BLOT VAR
ET GLIMT AF EN EKSISTENS OG IKKE
EN UENDELIGT UDSTRAKT OPLEVELSE SOM
STENENES REJSE FRA KLIPPERNE TIL HAVENE TIL STRANDENE TIL PARCELHUSINDKØRSLERNE OG BØRNENES LOMMER OG VINDUESKARMENE
LIVET BÆRER EN MED SIG BÆRER EN FORAN SIG SOM EN FORÆLDER SOM ET DAMPLOKOMOTIV DER SKUBBER LUFTEN FREMAD UD I LIVET

To gain-l
ess virtuEs (
undone storie
s
that tell lies to their child
ren and spread
       demons in the
ir wake)

Trappings of souls in wHite. Threaten our days

Until all that’s
left; rather diminutive
findi
ng passion in Th
e cold (under dure
ss
  gathering riche
s in frost heaves
upEnding mound
   s of dirt) to reach a g
oal

Gratitude multiplies under the weiGht

Of longing and
b
l
i
s
s
    Our hearts a
che for restitution
Hardening un
der your tOuch (reaching
    A point of n
o return, yelling, tur
ning
Plotting i
n our graves)

Today is the end of everything Together

Things are getting messy...
He's upset
    I can't tell why
        He's losing sleep
            I start to question
Is it my fault
     I start feeling afraid
           Feeling so lost and alone
     What is happening
Why am I feeling this way
               When did he start to change
          Where did I go wrong
     What have I done
Why is this happening
          I                    feel
                     L O    s    T
        My mind is
                        FRa CtUR eD
bury me
buury me under
ten feet under the ground
SUFFOCATE ME
                                                         *let me die

the templars can sing all they want... we're dealing with really sick people with the insurrection of the nag hammadi library!

kaptur...
   of a monk's hood...
           kapć -
slipper -
      noun-verb translation,
for some reason,
other than what the orthodox
people state it being...
     but how would you
ascribe the trill to R using the existing
diacritical marks?
  and example...
   a monk's hood:
  kaptur      v.                      káptür:
both instances exist and are equally
justifiable - let's suppose there is
a need to add a diacritical mark on
one of the consonants,
k? no... due to c and q...
            p?         papa pa... no...
     t?   † or st. andrew's X?
        no... r... R though... i can revise the vowels
to embody syllables... acute a to cut up
the word: ka-     like a bad crow onomatopoeia...
  -ptoor          hence the umlaut doubling up
      on the U parabola...
        ::                       ::                     ::                  ::
but i want the trill R! i want the sign denoting
that it should be "rolled"... rattled...
the rattle snake symbol...
                  no, not the french vogue of
levitating it toward the hark... the phlegm consonant...
i don't want that... ȑ? i.e. " above the r?
              it's a real word though...
the word: kap-tur.
                      a monk's hood...
               and depending on how you engage
disecting a word according to the rule of syllables...
there's a higher power that also dissects words:
diacritical markings, that was invested in
by guidance of the thought: it will make it easier...
evidently it made it harder...
               funny me, in the 21st century pointing
this out.
e.g.              : + u = o        
                       dot dot... join up the dots for a circle
and then say: : + u = oo.
                                        ooh! steven fry playing
                 *austin powers! yeah baby! yeah!

Det var länge sen, vi såg varandra
En dag som jag aldrig kommer glömma
Vi satt på soffan hos mig, det var lugnt då
Två själar i ett ***, verkligen lyckliga och fria
Åtminstone, jag minns att det kändes så
Vi tittade på en film, vars titel jag inte kommer nämna
För att det är för svårt att komma ihåg detta
Så svårt att fokusera
När det finns en sån tjej som sitter så nära
Ett ansikte, en kropp, en sinnesstämning, idealiska
Jag kunde inte sluta begrunda
Jag håller på att ordna och skriva
Allt som virvlar just nu i min hjärna
”Jag har tur!”, kan jag väl påstå
För sen, vi gick till sovrummet och fick komma
Så nära som natur kan tillåta
Under en natt som blev den tredje och sista
Innan du bestämde dig att flytta tillbaka
Nu, känns det konstigt för att du är borta
Är det ett riktigt minne eller drömde jag?  
Livet är som en berg- och dalbana
Som man inte riktigt har kontroll på
Fast, det finns en sak som du kan göra
Varje dag, ta ett steg baklänges bara
Utan att titta över axlarna
Titta hellre upp på himlen, du kan gärna stirra
Kanske ser du åter en hund som rider en sköldpadda
Tänker på mig och börjar skratta
Tills du är tvungen att sluta gå
För det finns nån som står i vägen
Nån som kanske gjort detsamma
Med ögonen fast på molnen
Om jag skulle vara helt ärlig, måste jag avslöja
Att i hemlighet, hoppas jag det blir jag
Det låter självisk förstås, det vet jag
Men det är väl min dikt så jag får bestämma
Resten av historien kommer jag inte berätta
Det är bara att tänka sig
”Den som lever får se”.

Sa tur day ay ay ay ay ay ayyyyy,
come,
stay.
I'd work ev-ree dayyyyy,
ay ay.

Sa tur day ay ay ay ay ayyyyy,
let's,
play.
Brains are made of clayyyyy,
ay ay.