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Ai yêu Ấn Độ và người Ấn nào

Chủ đề trong 'Ấn Độ' bởi viethuong279, 26/05/2005.

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  1. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    cám ơn hairbraid nha!
    Hương cũng muốn bảo anh í lắm, nhưng mà hương ăn nói vụng, chẳng biết nói sao để người ta vào nhà bọn mình đây?
  2. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    Trang, anh í đang ở trong diễn đàn đấy,Trang thử chớm chớm mấy câu xem nào, hi hi. Anh í đang máy bay tên lửa bùm chéo ì xèo bên box kỹ thuật quân sự nước ngoài đó, à, đừng nhắc gì đến viethuong 279 nghen.
  3. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    Lại gặp hairbraid rồi.
    Mi Hairbraid cái, chụt chụt. Mình spam nhiều quá, haha.
  4. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    Thơ Ấn (lấy bên box thơ)
    Có một phù thủy
    Mở một quán nhỏ
    "Xin mời vào đây
    Ai mua gì cũng có
    Tôi là khách hàng đầu tiên
    Vào gõ cửa
    Phù thủy ló nhìn ra
    "Anh cần gì"
    "Tôi cần mua tình yêu
    Mua hạnh phúc, thành công, tình bạn..........."
    "Ở đây chỉ bán cây non
    Còn quả chín thì anh trồng lấy".

    Trích từ " Những bài thơ tình thế giới"
    Được viethuong279 sửa chữa / chuyển vào 20:25 ngày 22/10/2005
  5. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    Tiếp nhé, lại thơ bằng tiếng Anh thôi, mọi người cùng đọc.
    Where The Mind is Without Fear
    Rabindranath Tagore
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
    Where knowledge is free
    Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
    By narrow domestic walls
    Where words come out from the depth of truth
    Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
    Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
    Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
    Where the mind is led forward by thee
    Into ever-widening thought and action
    Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    from Rabindranath Tagore''s Geetanjali
  6. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    Later poems of Tagore
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Here are some later poems of Tagore. The reader chooses the name as s/he pleases.
    POEMS OF THE PERIOD:
    The first day''s sun
    asked
    at the new manifestation of being-
    Who are you?
    No answer came.
    Year after year went by,
    the last sun of the day
    the last question utters
    on the western sea-shore,
    in the silent evening-
    Who are you?
    He gets no answer.
    (From Rogashajjai, translation: Amiya Chakravarty)
    Soon, I feel
    the time comes near to leave.
    With sunset shadings
    screen the parting day.
    Let the hour be silent; let it be peaceful.
    Let not any pompous memories or meetings
    create a sorrow''s stance.
    May the trees at the gate
    raise the earth''s chant of peace
    in a cluster of green leaves.
    May the night''s blessings be
    in the light of the seven stars.
    (From Arogya, translation: Amiya Chakravarty)
    Here lies the ocean of peace,
    Helmsman, launch the boat.
    You will always be the comrade.
    Take, O take him to your heart.
    In the path of the Infinite
    will shine the "Dhruba-tara". (North Star)
    Giver of freedom, your forgiveness, your mercy
    will be wealth inexhaustible
    in the eternal journey.
    May the mortal bonds perish,
    May the vast universe take him in its arms,
    And may he know in his fearless heart
    The great unknown.
    (From Sesh Lekha, translation: Amiya Chakravarty)
    You have covered the path of your creation
    in a mesh of varied wiles,
    Guileful One.
    Deftly you have set a snare of false beliefs
    in artless lives.
    With your deception
    you have set the great man on trial
    taking from him the secrecy of night.
    Your star lights for him
    the truculent path of his heart,
    illuminated by a simple faith.
    Through tortuous outside
    it is straight within,
    and there in his pride.
    Though men call him futile,
    in the depth of his heart he finds truth
    washed clean by the inner light.
    Nothing can deprive him;
    he carries to his treasure-house
    his last reward.
    He who could easily bear your wile,
    receives from you the right
    to everlasting peace.
    (From Sesh Lekha, translation: Amiya Chakravarty)
    On that birthday morning,
    With deference
    I lifted my eyes to the sunrise.
    I saw the dawn
    Consecrate
    The white forehead of mountain ranges.
    I beheld
    The great distance
    In creation''s heart
    On the throne of the lord of mountains.
    From ages, majestic,
    He has preserved the unknown
    In the trackless forest;
    The sky-cleaving, far-away,
    Encircled
    In sunrise and sunset.
    On this birthday,
    The great distance grows in my heart.
    The starry path is nebular,
    Mysterious;
    And my own remoteness
    Impenetrable.
    The pilgrim moves, his path unseen,
    The consequence unknown.
    Today
    I hear the traveller''s footsteps
    From my lonely seashore.
    (From Janmadiney, translation: Amiya Chakravarty)
  7. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    CAT
    Jibananda Das
    Again and again through the day
    I meet a cat.
    In the tree''s shade, in the sun, in the crowding brown leaves.
    After the success of a few fish bones
    Or inside a skeleton of white earth
    I find it, as absorbed in the purring
    Of its heart as a bee.
    Still it sharpens its claws on the gulmohar tree
    And follows the sun all day long.
    Mow I see it and then it is gone,
    Losing itself somewhere.
    On the autumn evening I have watched it play,
    Stroking the soft body of the saffron sun
    With a white paw. Then it caught
    The darkness in paws like small balls
    And scattered it all over the earth.

    Translated by: Lila Ray
  8. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    Bây giờ đọc thơ trẻ con nhé, đây là chùm thơ rất đáng yêu của bé Aruni nè. Bé này hơn thằng em mình một tuổi, mà làm thơ ghê quá.
    Arunima, born on 3 September, 1993, loves to write poems on every day experiences. Her ambition is to become a poetess. The poems in this page were written by Arunima and e***ed by her father
    "Colour-bow" was written recently for a competition.
    "Birthday" was inspired by a dream.
    "Cuckoo Clock" was inspired by Mom''s everyday winding of the clock and little sister''s singing along with the cuckoo.
    "Cards" in remembrance of the family''s visit to Switzerland in March 1999
    "The Sixth Sense" was inspired by the discussion of her lesson in class on the five human senses.

    Colour Bow
    Come to the window
    run to the door
    See the sky
    don''t let her go
    The rain has gone
    the sun has come
    This bow of colours
    won''t hurt someone
    She links the hills
    she fills the dale
    A colour bridge
    there stands a still
    Across the ground
    I can hear aloud
    God''s anger sound
    in the thunder cloud
    Don''t miss the chance
    to see what he gave
    Her colours are made
    to wither and fade
    Come to the window
    run to the door
    Or she will go
    before you know.
    Arunima
    July 2001

  9. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    [​IMG]
    Arunima
  10. viethuong279

    viethuong279 Thành viên mới

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    Birthday
    Dreamed of dancing,
    songs and games
    Screamed for candy,
    cream and cakes
    Licked my fingers,
    locked the doors
    Picked my presents,
    puppets and muppets
    Shook their hands,
    and broke their arms
    Turned around
    to wake today
    And found its still
    my birthday!
    Arunima
    September 1999

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