Touch me deep...

Um... yeah, what she said. I completly agree.



Unless it's something about PMS or that you hate shaving you Bikini line.... in which case I'll just say 'You tell 'em girl!'

It translates, as:

I dreamt that you gave birth to a little boy.

And he had red hair.



Someone very close to me, whom I haven't spoken to in months, said that to me this morning. :)
 
Tôi có chờ đâu, có đợi đâu,
Ðem chi xuân lại gợi thêm sầu ?
Với tôi, tất cả như vô nghĩa,
Tất cả không ngoài nghĩa khổ đau!

Ai đâu trở lại mùa thu trước ?
Nhặt lấy cho tôi những lá vàng,
Với của hoa tươi, muôn cánh rã,
Về đây đem chắn nẻo xuân sang.


In my translation,

I wasn't waiting, nor expecting,
Why brought spring back, awoke my sadness?
To me, everything means nothing,
Nothing but the meaning of heart-aches!

Who can go to last autumn?
Pick up for me the red leaves,
Fallen petals of pretty flowers,
To make a wall, block this spring's coming.
 
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I'm re-reading old poems today.

Ôi rồ dại muôn người trên quả đất
Trí vô tư theo đuổi mộng ngông cuồng,
Ở trần gian, muốn thoát khói U Buồn,
Trong cõi sống, ưng ra vòng khổ sở,
Đua nhau cười, không đua nhau nức nở
Tháng ngày qua, theo đuổi ánh Vui Tươi
Ôi biết bao rồ dại của muôn người!
Họ muốn lấy Màn Quên che lấp cả
Cả Đau Thương, cả Dĩ Văng xa xôi!
Hỡi muôn người, hãy xa dòng Quên Lãng
Để sầu, lo, buồn, giận đắm say lòng
Cứ ỵêu thương, cứ nhớ tiếc, mơ mòng!
Những cảnh cũ không bao giờ còn nữa
Cho đến lúc hồn ta trong hơi thở
Vẫn yên vui vẻ cõi chết xa xôi!
Vì U Buồn là những đoá hoa tươi
Và đau khổ là chiến công rực rỡ
Quên sao được! hỡi loài người ngu dại
Quả tim ta là một khối U Buồn
Mạch máu ta là những mối Đau Thương
Mà quả đất là khối sầu vô hạn
Mà mỗi người là một lời ta thân
Của Hóa Công reo rắc xuồng trần ai!
Cứ khóc đi những cảnh cũ xa xôi!
Cho hồn ta rộng lan vào Dĩ Vãng,
Cứ than đi những ngày vui có hạn,
Cho thân ta tan với hạt châu rơi!
 
Pain is our mother, she makes us recognize each other...

-Over the Rhine
 
Tu Fu, 712–770 a.d.

Li Po's poetry: no match anywhere.
Soaring, his imagination always above others.
Clear, fresh like Yu Hsin.
Vigorous, free-flowing like Pao Chao.
North of river Wei: trees of spring.
East of the Yangtze: clouds of sundown.
When can we talk about literature again
Over a bottle of wine
 
Li Po, 701-762 a.d.

I met Tu Fu on a mountaintop
In August when the sun was hot.

Under the shade of his big straw hat
His face was sad.

In the years since we last parted,
He'd grown wan, exhausted.

Poor old Tu Fu, I thought then,
He must be agonizing over poetry again.
 
Poems by the Empress and the Emperor, in that order and in translation.

As I look up
At the plum blossoms
Becoming tinged with colour,
My face turns upward
To the gentle sky of spring.


Unawares
The larch leaves
Have turned yellow.
So softly on them
The rain is falling.
 
"Falling out of love"
~ Unknown



I'm learning to fall out of love
as time slowly passes me by.

I'm learning that my broken heart
will continue to make me cry.

I'm learning that falling in love
is easier than letting someone go.

I'm learning that falling out of love
is the hardest road I will ever know.

I'm learning as the pain slowly fades away
I will begin to smile an occasional day.


I'm learning too, that time is my friend
it will heal my heart, make the tears end.


I want to mend my broken heart.
I will forget that we did part.


I'm learning all of this every day
in my heart as your love slips away.
 
Destined to fall soon
The cherry-blossom
Is short lived.
Yet it makes one wait
Such a long, long time.

- Lady Ise (in translation)
 
This body
grown fragile, floating,
a reed cut from its roots.
If a stream would ask me
to follow, I'd go, I think.

- Ono no Komachi (in translation)
 
In placid hours well-pleased we dream
Of many a brave unbodied scheme.
But form to lend, pulsed life create,
What unlike things must meet and mate:
A flame to melt--a wind to freeze;
Sad patience--joyous energies;
Humility--yet pride and scorn;
Instinct and study; love and hate;
Audacity--reverence. These must mate,
And fuse with Jacob's mystic heart,
To wrestle with the angel--Art.

- Herman Melville
 
Cause I'm working hard, saving all my money
And the tips in this jar, will buy a brand new set of wings
For my mercury
 
Maybe it's the tension between longing and aloneness that I need.
My own funicular railway, holding in balance the two things most likely to destroy me.
 
A two-hour phone call with my big sister, where we reminisced and laughed so much we had tears streaming down our faces.

She's the only friend I have who's never ever let me down, and I love to bits. :heart:
 
Actually, the story of Elisabeth Fritzl has touched me more deeply than anything has in a long while.

Empathy is impossible, nobody can live through and also understand that experience.

There is simply nothing, no aid, no real understanding for such a thing.
 
The tamer my love, the farther away it is from love. In fierceness, in heat, in longing, in risk, I find something of love's nature. In my desire for you, I burn at the right temperature to walk though love's fire.

So when you ask me why I cannot love you more calmly, I answer that to love you calmly is not to love you at all.
 
Do you want water?

Stop trying to be strong and stay the hell still in the damned bed!
 
It is not that I have come to love the night,
It is just that I have learned to fear the morning.
 
Mad Girl's Love Song
By Sylvia Plath


I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)


The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.


I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)


God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.


I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)


I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
 
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