POEMS

A Psalm of Life, first

Inform me not in somber numbers,

Nothing more than a fantasy, life!

Because of sleep, the soul is dead.

And not everything is as it seems.

Reality of life! Life is worth living!

Its objective is not the grave;

Thou art dust, and to dust thou returnst;

Of the soul was not uttered.

neither happiness nor sadness,

Is our intended path or end?

But to do something, that tomorrow

Further than today, locate us.

Time is short, and art is long,

And while our hearts are strong and courageous,

Still thumping like muffled drums

a funeral procession to the grave.

In the vast theater of war that is the world,

Life's bivouac is a journey.

Don't be like obedient, driven livestock!

In the conflict, be a hero!

Never, ever, put your trust in the future!

Let the past's dead bury their own!

Act now, in the here and now!

Heart inside and God above!

Great men's lives serve as constant reminders to us

We can live opulent lifestyles,

And leaving, leave us behind

traces left in the sands of time;

Footprints, perhaps another

Sailing across the somber main of life,

Unhappily shipwrecked brother,

Upon seeing, one will regain courage.

So let's get moving and get up!

with compassion for whatever outcome;

Continued success, continued pursuit,

Learn how to wait and to labor.

Ozymandias 2.

A tourist from a distant country who I met

Who said: "Two enormous, trunkless legs of stone?"

Stand in the arid landscape. On the beach next to them,

Half submerged, a fractured face with a frown,

With a pouted lip and a commanding glare,

Tell them the sculptor is a reader of their interests.

inscribed on these dead objects, which nevertheless exist.

The heart that fed them and the hand that made fun of them

And these phrases may be seen on the pedestal:

"I am Ozymandias, King of Kings," he said.

You Mighty, look at my efforts and be in despair.

Nothing else is left. the deterioration around

Of that enormous, barren, limitless wreck

The flat, deserted beaches are far distant.

Third, Ode on a Grecian Urn

Here is a passage from the poem.

"Thou still art the peaceful bride unravished,

You are the foster child of solitude and leisure,

Historian of Sylvana, who is unable to express

A floral story that is more endearing than our rhyme:

What frightful leaf-fringed fable haunts thine form?

either of gods or humans, or both,

In Tempe or the Arcadian Dales?

Who are these guys or gods? What kind of maidens?

What insane chase? What escape attempt?

What timbrels and pipes? What wild intoxication?

Invictus 4.

From the night that I am covered in,

From pole to pole, pitch black

I give thanks to whatever the gods may be.

Because of my invincible soul.

When the situation became dire

I didn't grimace or scream out loud.

Under the beating of luck

I have a bloodied but unbowed head.

Beyond this scene of anger and sorrow

However, the horror of the shadow looms.

Nevertheless, the years' threat

I am and will continue to be fearless.

Regardless of how straight the gate is

The scroll's level of punishment charge

I am in control of my destiny.

I am in charge of my own soul.

Sonnet 29.

When in shame in the eyes of Fortune and mankind,

I lament my lonely situation alone.

And disturb the ears of the deaf sky with my shouts.

And I look at myself and I curse my destiny.

Wishing me a more hopeful future,

Like him with pals who possess features,

wishing to have this man's talent and that man's range,

What I most appreciate makes me the least content.

However, I am almost ashamed of myself in these sentiments.

Haply I consider you, then my current situation.

(Like a bird awakening at first light.

anthems upon heaven's entrance from gloomy earth,

When I think of your wonderful affection, such richness gives,

So I scorned the idea of changing my status with rulers.

6. Harlem (1902–1967) by Langston Hughes

What happens to a postponed dream?

Has it dried up?

similar like a raisin in the sun?

Or worsen like a wound-

then take off?

Does it have a rotten flesh odor?

maybe a sugar and crust topping

like a sweet with syrup?

It could just sag.

a hefty burden

Or does it blow up?