>What is the most beautiful love poem you know?
or
What is the most beautiful love single verse you know?
>>8110744
Audrey is the most beautiful woman in the world and I would die for her
dubs confirm Audrey is queen:
>>8110744
“I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
and that necessary.”
Give me something of unrequited love.
>>8110744
“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”
Neruda
>>8110834
nice
I would like to jizz in your face. both nourish and make your skin stinky. I am the jizz.
Mikhail Lermontov
"Not with the Proud Kind Of Beauty"
1832
Not with the proud kind of beauty
She charms the animated youth,
And she doesn't drag behind her booty -
The crowd of her slaves, confused.
Her waist isn't one of any goddess,
Her breast does not rise like sea waves,
And nobody calls her gorgeous,
While falling on his knees on earth.
But every movement, every action,
Her features, speeches, smiles -- all these
So full of life and inspiration,
So full of otherworldly ease.
Her voice pervades the whole soul,
Like memory of happy days,
And heart is sunk in love and dole,
While being shameful of its zest.
Love shook my heart like wind
on a mountain punishing oak trees
>>8110991
hey, this one is cool. Never knew Lermontov wrote poetry.
>>8111071
he's awesome, he actually started with poetry
>>8111085
Gotta check on other things that he did. Thanks Anon! You got other similar like Lermontov?
>>8110886
Nice way to saying I want to stick it in you
>>8111100
russian romanticism in general is like that. check out emily dickinson and byron
Aleksandr Pushkin
The Wish
I shed my tears; my tears – my consolation;
And I am silent; my murmur is dead,
My soul, sunk in a depression’s shade,
Hides in its depths the bitter exultation.
I don’t deplore my passing dream of life --
Vanish in dark, the empty apparition!
I care only for my love’s infliction,
And let me die, but only die in love!
My dick, untouched by virgin grace
Thirsts on, for lover's sweet embrace;
For love! But more for fruit than love.
My lust stares low, my eyes above.
rate me /lit/
>>8111227
also baudelaire, 19th century is tight
From a fucking childrens book:
I will love you with no regard to the actions of our enemies or the jealousies of actors. I will love you with no regard to the outrage of certain parents or the boredom of certain friends. I will love you no matter what is served in the world’s cafeterias or what game is played at each and every recess. I will love you no matter how many fire drills we are all forced to endure, and no matter what is drawn upon the blackboard in a blurring, boring chalk. I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table. I will love you no matter what your locker combination was, or how you decided to spend your time during study hall. I will love you no matter how your soccer team performed in the tournament or how many stains I received on my cheerleading uniform. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you if you cut your hair and I will love you if you cut the hair of others.
John Keats fragment of a sonnet by Ronsard
Nature withheld Cassandra in the skies,
For more adornment, a full thousand years;
She took their cream of Beauty’s fairest dyes,
And shap’d and tinted her above all Peers:
Meanwhile Love kept her dearly with his wings,
And underneath their shadow fill’d her eyes
With such a richness that the cloudy Kings
Of high Olympus utter’d slavish sighs.
When from the Heavens I saw her first descend,
My heart took fire, and only burning pains,
They were my pleasures—they my Life’s sad end;
Love pour’d her beauty into my warm veins.
If I don't make your heart skip a beat
then hate me
If I don't make you feel anything
then it's me
-JamisonParker
>>8110991
love this
>>8110744
sonnet 17 by pablo neruda
it’s still too soon in this world my love
to speak of you and me.
sauce: http://lyricstranslate.com/en/monogramma-monogramma-monogram.html
>>8110744
Love is lame. The girl who broke my heart is old and I wouldn't look at her twice now. Anons, just find a woman who you can stand when she inevitably gets ugly, and don't pine for the ones you fall in love with.
Why should I be afraid to die? I belong to you. If I go first, I'll wait for you there, on the other side of the dark waters. Be with me now.
Sappho
(Not the best translation)
And how you laugh your charming laugh. Why it
makes my heart flutter within my breast,
because the moment I look at you, right then, for me,
to make any sound at all won’t work any more
>>8111231
10/10 no joke, wish you could make a couple extra verses tho, you have a nice style and I like the word choices
>>8111364
John keats is so fucking based.
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
And the harvest’s done.
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful—a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan
I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery’s song.
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said—
‘I love thee true’.
She took me to her Elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.
And there she lullèd me asleep,
And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.
I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
Thee hath in thrall!’
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gapèd wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill’s side.
And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
>>8113075
lol thanks
i don't really write much poetry anymore. closest i've come lately is a 4k poetry battle in my trollfic.
>>8111352
from the same source
I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness in the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged print of the document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I will love you as a child loves to overhear the conversations of its parents, and the parents love the sound of their own arguing voices, and as the pen loves to write down the words these voices utter in a notebook for safekeeping.
>>8110849
Rivers of ink couldn't fill in the tide
or paint the sprightly moon black.
Nor could it make your bolted mind wide
grow the feelings you suddenly lack.
Ive sent out the post by a man in the coat
but he always returns to me dry
No matter the style or the verse I had wrote
nor the rains in the clouds, in the sky.
I'll send it again but Im starting to feel
there isn't enough paper at all
To mend what time couldn't heal
Or to make you answer my call.
>>8114981
Oof. Did you write that Anon?
>>8114981
nice m8
(From Sleep and Poetry)
Stop and consider! life is but a day;
A fragule dewdrop on its perilous way
From a tree's summit; a poor Indian's sleep
While his boat hastens to the monstrous steep
Of Montmorenci. Why so sad a moan?
Life is the rose's hope while yet unblown;
The reading of an ever-changing tale;
The light uplifting of a maiden's veil;
A pigeon tumbling in clear summer air;
A laughing schoolboy, without grief or care,
Riding the spring ranches of an elm.
>Keats keeps me going tbqh :')
>>8110991
shit
>>8111227
shit
>>8111231
get out of my sight
>>8111352
shit
>>8111364
shit
>>8114651
good, actually
>>8114981
shit
>>8115359
shit
Love is companionship.
I don’t know how to walk alone on the roads anymore
Because I can’t walk alone anymore.
A visible thought makes me walk faster
And see less and at the same time really enjoy seeing everything.
Even her absence is a thing that’s with me.
And I love her so much I don’t know how to want her.
If I don’t see her, I pretend I do and I’m as strong as trees are tall.
But if I see her I tremble, I don’t know what happens to what I feel when she’s not there.
All I am is some strength abandoning me.
All reality looks at me like a sunflower with her face in the middle of it.
>>8115404
Pessoa was an awful poet. Haven;t cringed that hard in a while. Thanks m8
>>8115432
triggered
From my village I see as much in the Universe as you can see from earth...
So my village is as big as any other land
Because I’m the size of what I see,
Not the size of my height...
In the cities life is smaller
Than here in my house on top of this hill.
In the city the big houses shut your sight with a key,
Hide the horizon, push your eyes far away from all the sky,
Make us smaller because they take away what our eyes can give us,
And make us poor because our only wealth is seeing.
>>8115436
>>8115432
Actually, this is one of Pessoa's pseudonyms, Alberto Caeiro. You can't really understand him from one isolated poem or even two. You have to understand him in his context because his poetry is unique and requires a unique reading.
alberto-caeiro
.
blogspot
.
com
imo the greatest modern poet by far and a truly great poet on the level of Homer and Shakespeare
probably doesnt count since its a movie, and Its mostly due to the amazing delivery, but link related is the first thing I thought of
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jrLVuKks6lE
>>8110744
There is no way to banish beloved being
From our own selves: his memory keeps living
Forever in our skin, our spine, our blood and our entrails;
The person that we love pollinate us,
And his soul breathes even in our pores.
>>8115945
>There is no way to banish *THE beloved being
Semen stains the mountain tops
Semen stains the mountain tops
>>8110744
What falling in love is like:
"It’s to do with knowing and being known. I remember how it stopped seeming odd that in biblical Greek, knowing was used for making love. Whosit knew so-and-so. Carnal knowledge. It’s what lovers trust each other with. Knowledge of each other, not of the flesh but through the flesh, knowledge of self, the real him, the real her, in extremis, the mask slipped from the face. Every other version of oneself is on offer to the public. We share our vivacity, grief, sulks, anger, joy… we hand it out to anybody who happens to be standing around, to friends and family with a momentary sense of indecency perhaps, to strangers without hesitation. Our lovers share us with the passing trade. But in pairs we insist that we give ourselves to each other. What selves? What’s left? What else is there that hasn’t been dealt out like a deck of cards? Carnal knowledge. Personal, final, uncompromised. Knowing, being known. I revere that. Having that is being rich, you can be generous about what’s shared — she walks, she talks, she laughs, she lends a sympathetic ear, she kicks off her shoes and dances on the tables, she’s everybody’s and it don’t mean a thing, let them eat cake; knowledge is something else, the undealt card, and while it’s held it makes you free-and-easy and nice to know, and when it’s gone everything is pain. Every single thing. Every object that meets the eye, a pencil, a tangerine, a travel poster. As if the physical world has been wired up to pass a current back to the part of your brain where imagination glows like a filament in a lobe no bigger than a torch bulb. Pain."
>>8115953
is it a metaphor of snow on the mountaintops which is considered as a sign of the marriage between sky and earth, uranus and gaia?
Sonnet 19
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
Him in thy course untainted do allow
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
>>8114651
I was always fond of this line from Keats:
> have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder’d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr’d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you.
Not even from a poem, but a letter he wrote to Brawne.
why when i search "donne" or "ecstasy" on this page results come up 0
lit ur fuckin stupid kys
>>8110849
A Question
It was a question I had worn on my lips for days - like a loose thread on my favorite sweaterI couldn't resist pulling - despite knowing it could all unravel around me
"Do you love me?" I ask,
In your hesitation I found my answer.
-Lang leav
>>8113050
LP 31? Is this your own translation?
>>8115359
>The reading of an ever-changing tale; >The light uplifting of a maiden's veil;
And all this while I thought veil rhymes with veal.
>>8110744
on her face neutrogena aeh
bad bitch look latina aeh
got my nina damn
got my other nina damn.
