romantic-poets

"Pressed by the moon, mute arbitress of tides, While the loud equinox its power combines, The sea no more its swelling surge confines, But o’er the shrinking land sublimely rides. The wild blast, rising from the western cave, Drives the huge billows from their heaving bed, Tears from their grassy tombs the village dead, And breaks the silent sabbath of the grave! With shells and sea-weed mingled, on the shore Lo! their bones whiten in the frequent wave; But vain to them the winds and waters rave; They hear the warring elements no more: While I am doomed—by life’s long storm oppressed, To gaze with envy on their gloomy rest."

"The garlands fade that Spring so lately wove, Each simple flower, which she had nurs’d in dew, Anemonies that spangled every grove, The primrose wan, and hare-bell, mildly blue. No more shall violets linger in the dell, Or purple orchis variegate the plain, Till Spring again shall call forth every bell, And dress with humid hands, her wreaths again. Ah! poor humanity! so frail, so fair, Are the fond visions of thy early day, Till tyrant passion, and corrosive care, Bid all thy fairy colours fade away! Another May new buds and flowers shall bring; Ah! why has happiness—no second spring?"

"Oh! for imperial Polydamna’s art, Which to bright Helen was in Egypt taught, To mix with magic power the oblivious draught Of force to staunch the bleeding of the heart, And to Care’s wan and hollow cheek impart The smile of happy youth, uncursed with thought. Potent indeed the charm that could appease Affection’s ceaseless anguish, doomed to weep O’er the cold grave; or yield even transient ease By soothing busy Memory to sleep! —Around me those who surely must have tried Some charm of equal power, I daily see, But still to me Oblivion is denied, There’s no Nepenthe, now, on earth for me."

"Queen of the silver bow! by thy pale beam, Alone and pensive, I delight to stray, And watch thy shadow trembling in the stream, Or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way. And while I gaze, thy mild and placid light Sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast; And oft I think, fair planet of the night, That in thy orb the wretched may have rest; The sufferers of the earth perhaps may go, Released by death, to thy benignant sphere, And the sad children of despair and woe Forget in thee their cup of sorrow here, O that I soon may reach thy world serene, Poor wearied pilgrim in this toiling scene!"

"So it is that bird and man, Sun and moon Are born and die in Brahma the Sacred– Where all things become one."

"Like many of the north-Indian ashraf classes, Hali too considered Muslims to be the descendants of foreign conquerors... 'We were fire O Hind', he exclaimed, 'you've turned us into ash.'..."

"Whither has gone the superiority of the Muslims, In wealth, wisdom and learning? Whither has gone that fixity of purpose, That knew no barrier of land or sea? Whither has gone that vigour and where are those sturdy arms?"

"Farewell, Hindusthan, land of eternal spring, for long have we, as foreign guests, stayed here and enjoyed your hospitality."

"Just as the army of Alexander marched back after reaching your border, I wish we also had returned unsuccessful from your gates."

"The spot on your forehead is a sign of great good fortune. The pearl in your ear is the light of Venus and Jupiter."

"“The King determined to spare neither men nor money to carry on the war against the Hindoos: he accordingly directed Etibar Khan Yezdy, the Hawaldar of Condbeer (henceforth called Moortuza Nuggur), to collect all the troops under his command, with orders to march towards Beejanuggur, and to lay in ashes all the enemy’s towns in his route… Etibar Khan now proceeded to the town of Calistry, which he reached after a month’s march from Golconda. Here he destroyed the Hindoo idols, and ordered prayers to be read in the temples. These edifices may well he compared in magnificence with the buildings and paintings of China, with which they vie in beauty and workmanship. Having given a signal example of the Mahomedan power in that distant country, the Hindoos did not dare to interrupt his return…”"

"“The sudden swelling of the rivers, and the absence of the King with his army, gave Venkutputty leisure to muster the whole of his forces, which amounted to one hundred thousand men. The leaders were Yeltumraj, Goolrung Setty, and Munoopraj, who marched to recover Gundicota from the hands of Sunjur Khan. Here the enemy were daily opposed by sallies from the garrison, but they perservered in the siege; when they heard that Moortuza Khan, with the main army of the Mahomedans, had pentrated as far as the city of Krupa, the most famous city of that country, wherein was a large temple. This edifice the Mahomedans destroyed as far as practicable, broke the idol, and sacked the city…”"

"Without my love, I have no taste for wine. Without my love, what use this life of mine?"

"I am drunk in your love, Lala; give me the cup to drink from your lips. I am drunk with your love, and that love gives me excitement."

"Discoursing all the time with all, yet acting far beyond all."

"Ghalib, we are from the sacred land of Turan, Undoubtedly we are of glorious lineage, We are of Turkish descent And the chiefs of the tribe were our forefathers, We are Arabs, belonging to the tribe of Turks And in perfection we are ten times better than the moon."

"translation:"

"Do not discount my tears; eternal wisdom has decreed That in this flowing stream the seven millstones all revolve."

"Just like a child's play this world appears to me Every single night and day, this spectacle I see."

"It is not praised if you are the only one to understand what you speak interesting is the situation when you speak and the others understand."

"تیرے کرشموں سے پُر قلبِ خلا و ملا گفتگو ہر ایک سے، امر میں سب سے جدا"

"کم مشمر گریہ ام زانکہ بہ علمِ ازل بودہ درین جوئے آب گردشِ ہفت آسیا"

"Against whose artful writing does the painting utter a plaintive cry? The form of every picture wears a paper-attire. Ask not about the diligence of my hard-heartedness in solitude, To turn the Evening into Morning is to dig the Canal of Milk! Cognizance may spread its net of hearing to any extent, The Phoenix is the object of our Universe of Speech. O Ghalib! Whereas even in captivity I have my feet on fire, The ring of my chain is a hair that hath seen fire! Did none other than Qais come to face the task (Love)? The desert was perhaps as narrow as the eyes of the envious! Perturbation set the black mole of the heart right; Thus it came to light that smoke was the wealth of the scar. In the dream, Fancy had its dealing with thee; When the eye opened, there was neither loss nor gain! Still I am learning lessons in the school of the grief of the heart, But it is only this: that went and was. The shroud covered the scar of the defects of Nudity, I was, otherwise, in every attire a disgrace to Existence! Asad ! Farhad, the mountain-digger, could not die without an adze; He was only intoxicated with (the wine of) customs and conventions."

"If what the eye sees does not rankle in the heart Sweet is the flow of life in travel spent."

"The object of my worship lies beyond perception's reach; For men who see, the Ka'aba is a compass, nothing more.""

"The happiness of the world is nothing for me for my heart is left with no feeling besides blood."

"The prison of life and the bondage of grief are one and the same Before the onset of death, why should man expect to be free of grief?"

"Tombed in the solid night of starless space; From nearest living orb so far removed, That light, of all material things most swift, Myriads on myriads of earth's years must speed, Ere the mere outskirts of that Stygian gloom, If ever, it might reach,-at rest eterne, Lies the cold wreck of an extinguished sun. Prime glory once of all heaven's radiant host; Body, for soul of purest light most fit- 'Tween its first darkening, and eclipse complete, Streamed years which might eternity appear; While into ether, like the particles, Invisible, which are the breath of flowers, The mighty bulk its softer elements Still ever was exhaling. As when flesh And sinew of earth's monster Mastodon, By the slow wasting of the elements, All are dissolved, and hard, enduring bones Alone remain,- even so, of this immense,- When, by the ocean waves of centuries, Millions succeeding millions, worn away,- The adamantine skeleton alone, In darkness, silence, utter solitude, A ruin for eternity, was left."

"It was a day of gloom, and strange suspense, And feverish, and inexplicable dread, In Herculaneum's walls. The heavy, thick, And torrid atmosphere; the solid, vast, And strong--edg'd clouds, that through the firmament In various and opposing courses moved:-- The wild scream of the solitary bird That, at long intervals, flew terror-driven On high:--the howling of the red-ey'd dog As he gaz'd trembling on the angry heavens:- The hollow moans that swept along the air, Though every wind was lock'd,-portended all That nature with some dire event was big, And labour'd in its birth."

"In flame and smoke the wondrous city sinks! Her walls are gone! her palaces are dust! The desert is around her, and within! Like shadows have the mighty passed away!"

"Thus falling, falling from afar, As if some melancholy star Had mingled with her light her sighs, And dropped them from the skies."

"Titian, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese absolutely enchanted me, for they took away all sense of subject. ... It was the poetry of color which I felt, procreative in its nature, giving birth to a thousand things which the eye cannot see, and distinct from their cause."

"Рѣка временъ въ своемъ стремленьи Уноситъ всѣ дѣла людей И топитъ въ пропасти забвенья Народы, царства и царей.А если что и остается Чрезъ звуки лиры и трубы, То вѣчности жерломъ пожрется И общей не уйдетъ судьбы!"

"Кто перед ратью будет, пылая, Ездить на кляче, есть сухари; В стуже и в зное меч закаляя, Спать на соломе, бдеть до зари; Тысячи воинств, стен и затворов С горстью россиян все побеждать?"

"Ты есть! — Природы чинъ вѣщаетъ, Гласитъ мое мнѣ сердце то, Меня мой разумъ увѣряетъ, Ты есть; — и я ужъ не ничто! Частица цѣлой я вселенной."

"Go! you may call it madness, folly; You shall not chase my gloom away! There's such a charm in melancholy I would not if I could be gay."

"That very law which moulds a tear And bids it trickle from its source,— That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course."

"To vanish in the chinks that Time has made."

"Ward has no heart, they say, but I deny it: He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it."

"Mine be a cot beside the hill; A beehive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near."

"Hence, to the realms of Night, dire Demon, hence! Thy chain of adamant can bind That little world, the human mind, And sink its noblest powers to impotence."

"The soul of music slumbers in the shell Till waked and kindled by the master's spell; And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour A thousand melodies unheard before!"

"Then, never less alone than when alone."

"A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing."

"Fireside happiness, to hours of ease Blest with that charm, the certainty to please."

"Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,—not dead, but gone before,— He gathers round him."

"Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail."

"Thou first, best friend that Heav'n assigns below To sooth and sweeten all the cares we know."

"Oh ! She was good as she was fair, None—none on earth above her! As pure in thought as angels are: To know her was to love her."

"The good are better made by ill, As odours crushed are sweeter still."