letter - Popular Poems and stories from category

If you are my friend
Help leave
Or if you are my lover
Help I can be healed of you

Любовь наступает беспричинно.Тебе, я думаю, не надо это объяснять.
Вдруг сердце начинает биться очень сильно,
А разум вдруг уходит погулять.
Для каждого любовь есть наказание,
Так Бог сказал, пытаясь вразумить,

Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay windannounces autumn, and the equinoxrolls back blue bays to a far afternoon
Somewhere beyond the Gorge Li Po is gone,looking for friendship or an old love's sleeveor writing letters to his children, lost,...

You can see it already: chalks and ochers;
Country crossed with a thousand furrow-lines;
Ground-level rooftops hidden by the shrubbery;
Sporadic haystacks standing on the grass;

Bursa
My one and only
Your last letter says:"My head is throbbing,               my heart is stunned
"You say:"If they hang you,           if I lose you,                     I'll die

I forced myself to write to you,
I could not stand that burning wish
A caged bird now in your hands
You can just set me free or punish.
But you, descending to my poor state,

I never dreamed we’d meet that day In our old haunts down Fricourt way, Plotting such marvellous journeys there For jolly old “Après-la-guerre
” Well, when it’s over, first we’ll meet At Gweithdy Bach, my country seat In Wales, a curious litt...

IR,  Pray discruciate what follows
The dullest beast, and gentleman's liquor,
When young is often due to the vicar,[1]The dullest of beasts, and swine's delight,
Make up a bird very swift of flight

Citizen, enemy, mama's boy, sucker, uttergarbage, panhandler, swine, refujew, verrucht;a scalp so often scalded with boiling waterthat the puny brain feels completely cooked
Yes, we have dwelt here: in this concrete, brick, woodenrubble which...

My darling,
I have much to
Where o precious one shall I begin
All that is in you is princelyO you who makes of my words through their

Dear Wanderer— The sky is gray,
With flecks of blue The clouds rush over
A bird is singing Far away,
And butterflies Taste of the clover

Sitting alone by the window,
Watching the moonlit street,
Bending my head to
To the well-known sound of your feet,