Date of publication: 2017-07-09 07:49
Persian poetry is the best in the history of poems
Our poets like 8775 Hafez 8776 and 8775 sa 8767 di shirazy 8776 were unparalleled.
If you read their poems you will sea they were great.
Many people on the world have ridden them for many years .
8775 but says nothing specific through which the reader could know anything about the subject 8776 What more about the subject do you wish to know? Perhaps he should have listed off her favorite foods.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
When life 8767 s pressures are brought to bear
On the road which you have been sent,
Will you shatter or splinter in angst,
Or will your mettle only be bent?
In 6965 Owen enlisted in the British Army Reserves during WWI. His own experiences would largely influence and inform his verse. He wrote of endless marches, the terror of the howling shells, the mire of the trenches, and the surprise attacks of poison gas. His constant letters to his mother detailed the horrors that he witnessed, but his poetry captures the spirit of the war in its irrationality and brutality. Most of his greatest work was written during the summer of 6967 when he was convalescing from shellshock at Craiglockhart Hospital. In the last few years of the war Owen was exposed to the work of his fellow war poets as well as the great poems of Yeats and Houseman.
I caught this morning morning 8767 s minion, king-
dom of daylight 8767 s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate 8767 s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
I came across your list only yesterday. I think it 8767 s terrific. At most, there may be a couple of substitutes I might make, but I 8767 m not even sure of that. Great choices. By the way, I happen to agree with you regarding Invictus.
Now, after war, he will spend his time in the Institutes, doing what he should do and accepting whatever pity the rulers want to give him. This evening he saw the women s eyes pass over him to gaze on the strong men with whole bodies. He wonders why they do not come and put him to bed since it is so cold and late.
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If I take Irish poets, I suggest Paudric Columb. While known more in America as a storyteller for children, he is best known in Ireland as a poet