I'd like to meet:
Barack Obama, Michael Dirr, Shania Twain, Joan Sebastian, The Dalai Lama~Do I dare Disturb the Universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which minute will reverse. For I have known them all already, known them all- Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall, Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume? ~ T.S. Eliot~DANTES INFERNO~~THE DIVINE COMEDY~
of VIRGIL~You did as he who goes by night and carries the lamp behind him- he is no help to his own self, but teaches those who follow~DANTES INFERNO~ DANTE ALIGHIERI
William Butler Yeats~~How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled, And paced upon the mountains overhead, And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.I died for beauty- but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When One who died for Truth, was lain, In an ajoining Room-
He questioned softly "Why I failed"? "For Beauty", I replied- "And I- for Truth- Themself are One- We Brethen, are", He said- And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night- We talked between the Rooms- Until the Moss had reached our lips- And covered up- our names- EMILY DICKINSON {for John Keats}HEARTS WITH ONE PURPOSE ALONE, THROUGH SUMMER AND WINTER SEEM, ENCHANTED TO A STONE, TO TROUBLE THE LIVING STREAM. THE HORSE THAT COMES FROM THE ROAD, THE RIDER, THE BIRDS THAT RANGE, FROM CLOUD TO TUMBLING CLOUD, MINUTE BY MINUTE THEY CHANGE; A SHADOW OF CLOUD ON THE STREAM, CHANGES MINUTE BY MINUTE; A HORSE-HOOF SLIDES ON THE BRIM, AND A HORSE PLASHES WITHIN IT; THE LONG-LEGGED MOOR-HENS DIVE, AND HENS TO MOOR-COCKS CALL; MINUTE BY MINUTE THEY LIVE: THE STONES IN THE MIDST OF IT ALL. ~ WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS~LaBELLE DAME SANS MERCI~
I MET A LADY IN THE MEADS, FULL BEAUTIFUL, A FAERYS CHILD, HER HAIR WAS LONG, HER FOOT WAS LIGHT, AND HER EYES WERE WILD. 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.~JOHN KEATS~A little learning is a dangerous thing; drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: there shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking largely sobers us again. ~A.PopeAs thus with thee in prayer in my sore need, Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed, One too like thee: tameless and swift, and proud. Make me a lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The turmult of thy mighty harmonies, Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My Spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe, like the withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth, Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened Earth, The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind, If Winter Comes, Can Spring Be Far Behind?~PERCY SHELLEY~~April is the cruellest month, breeding- Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing- Memory and desire, stirring- Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering- Earth in forgetful snow, feeding- A little life with dried tubers. ~ The Waste Land~ T.S. Eliot~~He filled my glass a second time...no sooner had the wine come to rest inside me than I lost all willpower. With the third glass, I lost my memory, and with the fourth, the future vanished. ~Zaabalawi~ Naguib Mahfouz~~I grow old...I grow old...I shall wear my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves, Combing the white hair of the waves blown back, When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea, By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown, Till human voices wake us, and we drown. ~T.S. Eliot~
