English poems.

I wish you could have been sitting here
To wipe the tears from my face,
Im trying really hard,
But words just can''t find the place.
In times like this I really needed you most,
To hold my hand and to heal my soul,
You''re the one to see inside of me,
And I just wanted you to know,
I miss you,
All I really wanted was to hold you,
You''re not there,
What am I gonna do,
I still feel you near me.
And It''s a long time till we meet again,
And when the sun shines,
I lay in bed,
silent all night,
And I know you were just made for me.
I remember every little thing that you taught me,
Like look both ways before you cross the street,
And pick your words very carfully,
And know when to speak,
And I know it''s gonna heart im sure,
But not like i''ve ever felt before.
Will send you''re love to comfort me?
I miss you,
All I really wanted was to hold you,
you''re not there,
What am I gonna do,
I still feel you near me.
And it''s a long time till we meet again,
And the sun shines,
I lay in bed,
silent all night,
I close my eyes and i know that your were just made for me.
Im sorry that you''ve gone away,
No worries though it''s a better place,
And i cant wait to meet you there some day,
Ill just keep in mind when the sun shines,
You''ll be right there watching all the time,
At night everyhthing will be alright,
Cause you were just made for me.

Two poems by Olga Becgon
"Not Till the Silver.."
1949
Not till the silver nor the golden wed
I will proceed to live with you, my friend.
But we have had the iron one before ?"
It?Td gone through flames of the ferocious war.
This love I hold all golden weds above:
Like in the iron, I am still in love.
Tạm dịch:
Dẫu chẳng đến đám cưới bạc...
Dẫu chẳng đến đám cưới bạc hay vàng
Anh vẫn bên em đến hết cuộc đời
Em ơi! đám cưới sắt chúng mình đã có
Đã qua lửa chiến tranh hung ác, bạo tàn
Hơn tất cả đám cưới vàng cộng lại
Tình yêu mình như sắt đá chẳng lay.
To the Song
1951
Wake as you want, but wake in me from sleep ?"
In cold, and numb and bottomless a deep.
I do not dream to say a single word,
But give a sign that you are in this world.
Not for a long, but only for a flash.
If not in verse ?" in sighs or cries of flesh.
Only your sigh or moan of complaint,
Only your chains?T incomprehensive chant.
Tạm dịch:
Cho bài hát
Đánh thức, đánh thức ta từ giấc ngủ-
Giá lạnh, tê tái, sâu vô tận
Ta không mơ dù nói một lời
Chỉ thở dài, khi trên đời mi hiện hữu
Chẳng lâu đâu, chỉ là khoảnh khắc
Chẳng vần điệu, chỉ là tiếng thở dài và than khóc của thịt da.
Chỉ có mi thở dài, riết xiết những than phiền
Chỉ có mi những nhịp điệu than khóc vô biên.

Two poems by Olga Becgon
"Not Till the Silver.."
1949
Not till the silver nor the golden wed
I will proceed to live with you, my friend.
But we have had the iron one before ?"
It?Td gone through flames of the ferocious war.
This love I hold all golden weds above:
Like in the iron, I am still in love.
Tạm dịch:
Dẫu chẳng đến đám cưới bạc...
Dẫu chẳng đến đám cưới bạc hay vàng
Anh vẫn bên em đến hết cuộc đời
Em ơi! đám cưới sắt chúng mình đã có
Đã qua lửa chiến tranh hung ác, bạo tàn
Hơn tất cả đám cưới vàng cộng lại
Tình yêu mình như sắt đá chẳng lay.
To the Song
1951
Wake as you want, but wake in me from sleep ?"
In cold, and numb and bottomless a deep.
I do not dream to say a single word,
But give a sign that you are in this world.
Not for a long, but only for a flash.
If not in verse ?" in sighs or cries of flesh.
Only your sigh or moan of complaint,
Only your chains?T incomprehensive chant.
Tạm dịch:
Cho bài hát
Đánh thức, đánh thức ta từ giấc ngủ-
Giá lạnh, tê tái, sâu vô tận
Ta không mơ dù nói một lời
Chỉ thở dài, khi trên đời mi hiện hữu
Chẳng lâu đâu, chỉ là khoảnh khắc
Chẳng vần điệu, chỉ là tiếng thở dài và than khóc của thịt da.
Chỉ có mi thở dài, riết xiết những than phiền
Chỉ có mi những nhịp điệu than khóc vô biên.

June have returned again. It reminds me the topic I opened two years ago with the wonderful poems posted by Bro Hung. Rains and sadness!
I want to take this chance to thank the Bro who opened my eyes to the interesting English poetry garden. From that, I have learned Shakespearean Sonnet, Quatrain, jazz poetry etc. It ''s very supprising to discover a paralell between 7 syllables-8 lines Tang poetry form and 10 syllables-14 lines Shakespearean Sonnet, and quatrain form in Chinese, Vietnamese poetry and western poetry as well. Beside the forms, I have learned about very emotional poetry material:jazz poetry.
Jazzonia
Langston Hughes
Oh, silver tree!
Oh, shining rivers of the soul!
In a Harlem cabaret
Six long-headed jazzers play.
A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
Lifts high a dress of silken gold.
Oh, singing tree!
Oh, shining rivers of the soul!
Were Evê?Ts eyes
In the first garden
Just a bit too bold?
Was Cleopatra gorgeous
In a gown of gold?
Oh, shining tree!
Oh, silver rivers of the soul!
In a whirling cabaret
Six long-headed jazzers play.
1926
Tạm d<ch:
Kìa, cây bạc lấp lánh
Kìa, dòng sông hào quang phản chiếu linh h"n!
Trong phòng trà Harlem
Sáu kẻ nhạc công jazz 'ầu dài bifu di.n
Trong 'ôi mắt hoang 'àng
MTt vũ nữ hoàng y nâng cao váy lụa.
Kìa,cây hoan ca
Kìa, dòng sông hào quang phản chiếu linh h"n!
Là 'ôi mắt Eva
trong vỈờn '<a 'àng
hoang 'àng lỈi lả?
Là nàng Cleopartra kiêu sa
trong dạ hTi hoàng y?
Kìa,cây bạc lấp lánh
Kìa, dòng sông hào quang phản chiếu linh h"n!
Trong phòng trà quay 'iên
Sáu kẻ nhạc công jazz 'ầu dài bifu di.n.

June have returned again. It reminds me the topic I opened two years ago with the wonderful poems posted by Bro Hung. Rains and sadness!
I want to take this chance to thank the Bro who opened my eyes to the interesting English poetry garden. From that, I have learned Shakespearean Sonnet, Quatrain, jazz poetry etc. It ''s very supprising to discover a paralell between 7 syllables-8 lines Tang poetry form and 10 syllables-14 lines Shakespearean Sonnet, and quatrain form in Chinese, Vietnamese poetry and western poetry as well. Beside the forms, I have learned about very emotional poetry material:jazz poetry.
Jazzonia
Langston Hughes
Oh, silver tree!
Oh, shining rivers of the soul!
In a Harlem cabaret
Six long-headed jazzers play.
A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
Lifts high a dress of silken gold.
Oh, singing tree!
Oh, shining rivers of the soul!
Were Evê?Ts eyes
In the first garden
Just a bit too bold?
Was Cleopatra gorgeous
In a gown of gold?
Oh, shining tree!
Oh, silver rivers of the soul!
In a whirling cabaret
Six long-headed jazzers play.
1926
Tạm d<ch:
Kìa, cây bạc lấp lánh
Kìa, dòng sông hào quang phản chiếu linh h"n!
Trong phòng trà Harlem
Sáu kẻ nhạc công jazz 'ầu dài bifu di.n
Trong 'ôi mắt hoang 'àng
MTt vũ nữ hoàng y nâng cao váy lụa.
Kìa,cây hoan ca
Kìa, dòng sông hào quang phản chiếu linh h"n!
Là 'ôi mắt Eva
trong vỈờn '<a 'àng
hoang 'àng lỈi lả?
Là nàng Cleopartra kiêu sa
trong dạ hTi hoàng y?
Kìa,cây bạc lấp lánh
Kìa, dòng sông hào quang phản chiếu linh h"n!
Trong phòng trà quay 'iên
Sáu kẻ nhạc công jazz 'ầu dài bifu di.n.

"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost
This is the poem that my sent me yesterday. I guess i''''''''m now in the same situation as the author, right at the crossroad of life in which one has to choose which way to go between the two while he/ she is not sure yet which is the better one.
I''''''''ve tried to read through it several time, even discussed with some friends about it and tried to feel it but i dont really grasp the meaning R. Frost wanted to convey.
I''''''''d be appreciate very much ì you could share with me yỏu understand of the peom.
Thanks a lot.
Here it is:
Robert Frost (1874f963). Mountain Interval. 1920.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20
To feel you love...please click here
http://www2.apu.ac.jp/imgallery/modules/myalbum/photo.php?cid=2&lid=12
Được banniejp sửa chữa / chuyển vào 16:58 ngày 18/07/2004

"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost
This is the poem that my sent me yesterday. I guess i''''''''m now in the same situation as the author, right at the crossroad of life in which one has to choose which way to go between the two while he/ she is not sure yet which is the better one.
I''''''''ve tried to read through it several time, even discussed with some friends about it and tried to feel it but i dont really grasp the meaning R. Frost wanted to convey.
I''''''''d be appreciate very much ì you could share with me yỏu understand of the peom.
Thanks a lot.
Here it is:
Robert Frost (1874f963). Mountain Interval. 1920.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20
To feel you love...please click here
http://www2.apu.ac.jp/imgallery/modules/myalbum/photo.php?cid=2&lid=12
Được banniejp sửa chữa / chuyển vào 16:58 ngày 18/07/2004

Are you doing job hunting out there a the moment?
Wanna get your Dream Job?
Are you creative and extraordinary enough to be a Champion over many people?
This is for you friends, together with my best wishes!
Here is some (mushy) inspiration!
Risk Taking is Free
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool;
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental;
To reach out for another is to risk involvement
To expose feeling is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas and your dreams
before the crowd is to risk their loss
To love is to risk not being loved in return
To live is to risk dying
To hope is to risk despair
To try is to risk failure.
But risk must be taken,
because the greatest hazard in life
is to risk nothing
The person who risks nothing, does nothing,
has nothing and is nothing;
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they simply cannot learn,
feel change, grow, love, Live
Chained by their certitude, they are a slave,
they have forfeited freedom;
Only the person who risks is free.
Author Unknown
-----------------------oOo---------------------------
Never despise the way you are.

Are you doing job hunting out there a the moment?
Wanna get your Dream Job?
Are you creative and extraordinary enough to be a Champion over many people?
This is for you friends, together with my best wishes!
Here is some (mushy) inspiration!
Risk Taking is Free
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool;
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental;
To reach out for another is to risk involvement
To expose feeling is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas and your dreams
before the crowd is to risk their loss
To love is to risk not being loved in return
To live is to risk dying
To hope is to risk despair
To try is to risk failure.
But risk must be taken,
because the greatest hazard in life
is to risk nothing
The person who risks nothing, does nothing,
has nothing and is nothing;
They may avoid suffering and sorrow,
but they simply cannot learn,
feel change, grow, love, Live
Chained by their certitude, they are a slave,
they have forfeited freedom;
Only the person who risks is free.
Author Unknown
-----------------------oOo---------------------------
Never despise the way you are.

Today I read an essay ''Edgar Allan Poe, hồi ức đau buồn và bất tận'' by Hoàng Tố Mai on Evăn section of vnexpress. It ''s said that Edgar Allan Poe is an important and influenced (unparalleled) author in XIX century American literature. And two poems : The Raven (con quạ) and The bells (Những cái chuông) are the most successful in Edgar ''s poetry. I tried finding and reading, but not understanding them well. I just write them down and wait to hear your voices on the beauty of those ''wonderful'' poems.
http://evan.vnexpress.net/Functions/WorkContent/?CatID=11&TypeID=40&WorkID=575
The Raven
Edgar Allen Poe


Once upon a midnight dreadry, while I pondered, weak
and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a
tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber
door.
"''Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber
door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon
the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of surrow, sorrow for the lost
Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name
Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt
before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood
repeating,
"''Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber
door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This is it, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came
rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my cham-
ber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened
wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, won-
dering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to
dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no
token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
"Lenore?",
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me
burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than
before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window
lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
''Tis the wind, and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of
yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or
stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my cham-
ber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber
door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it
wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art
sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the
nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night''s Pluton-
ian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so
plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his cham-
ber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his cham-
ber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did
outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he
fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered,"Other friends have
flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown
before."
Then the bird said,"Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and
store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful
disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one
burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."

But the raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and
bust and door;,
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of
yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous
bird of yore
Meant in croaking, "Nevermore."

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my
bosom''s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease re-
clining
On the cushion''s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated
o''er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating
o''er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an
unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted
floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these
angels he hath sent thee
Respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of
Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost
Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or
devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee
here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I im-
plore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we
both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant
Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name
Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name
Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!'' I shrieked,
upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night''s Pluton-
ian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath
spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above
my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form
from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon''s that is
dreaming.
And the lamplight o''er him streaming throws the shadow
on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on
the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!