Tathy chết thật rồi. Thôi chuyển cái thơ sang bên này nhé......
Bài này của một cậu bé trẻ. Đọc thấy cute:
Talking to you as a reflection of my soul
Talking or being at rest
You rest my unrest soul
By talking with me all alone
Waking up one morning in my tiny bed
Wishing your strong arms all around me
And your shoulder as my pillow
Me resting in your quite soul
It is little bit funny this feeling inside
Im not one of those who can easily hide
Dont have much money but boy I have a dream
Dream of a little house where we both could live
* Borrow from your song from Elton John and from a conversation with a friend
vừa nói chuyện với cô bạn bên Texas, thấy vui vui
Bài này cho mày nhé :present:
Friends have been my imaginative spark.
Friends have helped me through the dark.
Friends have told me to be strong.
Friends have agreed even when I was wrong.
Friends have made me gasp for breath.
Friends have made me laugh to death.
Friends I've helped to cheat in class.
Friends who've called me a horse's ass.
Friends in streams I've walked for miles.
Friends with uniquely different styles.
Friends who've made me an occasional drinker.
Friends who've made me a serious thinker.
Friends who sometimes misunderstood.
Friends even bad have always been good.
Friends I've talked to till the dawn.
Friends who've helped me carry on.
Friends who loved to burp and fart.
Friends have genuinely touched my heart.
Friends have inspired selective rhymes.
Friends have provided cherished times.
Friends were never overstated.
Friends were always appreciated.
Friends are why this song I shout.
Friends are what it's all about.
Bạn VnExpress vừa cho tớ biết một bài thơ hay, đã được in (nhưng sắp bị loại bỏ) trong sách dạy tiếng Anh của Pakistan:
Patient and steady with all he must bear,
Ready to meet every challenge with care,
Easy in manner, yet solid as steel,
Strong in his faith, refreshingly real.
Isn't afraid to propose what is bold,
Doesn't conform to the usual mould,
Eyes that have foresight, for hindsight won't do,
Never backs down when he sees what is true,
Tells it all straight, and means it all too.
Going forward and knowing he's right,
Even when doubted for why he would fight,
Over and over he makes his case clear,
Reaching to touch the ones who won't hear.
Growing in strength he won't be unnerved,
Ever assuring he'll stand by his word.
Wanting the world to join his firm stand,
Bracing for war, but praying for peace,
Using his power so evil will cease,
So much a leader and worthy of trust,
Here stands a man who will do what he must.
Such a meaningful poem, and take a look on the initial letters of each sentence which spell out the words: President George W Bush! What a funny joke.
There is no illusion like the blue sky
sometimes when I look up to it
that the earth is floating through
What's a great day out. Tặng 4c bày Infinity mà mình thích
Infinity is darkness continuous
With no end or hope in sight,
Infinity is timeless, delirious
Passion that burns in flight.
Infinity is expectation
Of exhaltation and fall
Infinity is explanation
Of all the things you cannot recall
Infinity is grass on a meadow
That does not have an end,
Infinity is the shadow
That you try to catch in hand
Infinity is a golden wire
Stretched to completion and in it spent,
Infinity is desire
Reaching out despite intent,
Infinity is two mirrors
Reflecting each other and through them you,
Infinity is unclear
Infinity is sky blue
To vanish into infinity
Is to become indiscreet,
To lose all affinity
For all that you know and meet,
To lose barriers and resolution
And to become not your own,
To welcome destitution
And wealth in one,
To merge with incandescent divinity
And be enough apart
To love it; yes, to achieve continuity
Of mind and heart;
To burn with eternal yearning
And have that yearning fulfilled;
To be eternally burning,
And in it be also healed;
To be an eternal radiance
Sending light into people's souls
And across many magnetic gradients
To give pieces of whole;
To shine continuously and eternally
And never begin to end
To love intentionally and infernally
To make home of both sea and land
To know infinity is to extinguish
To reduce man to single gasp
To love infinity is to distinguish
Lover's passion from death's grasp
To live infinity is to know
That there is nothing else true -
Infinity is the flow
Between I and You -
Infinity is not knowing
But being the thing that is will,
Infinity is the flowing
Of time over the hill,
Infinity is truth that is shimmering
Somewhere between night and day;
Infinity is fire that is simmering
Infinity is molding clay
Infinity is intensity
And so, say I,
Infinity is immensity
Within your eye.
THE MOON CANNOT BE STOLEN
A Zen Master lived the simplest kind of life in a little hut at the foot of a mountain. One evening, while he was away, a thief sneaked into the hut only to find there was nothing in it to steal. The Zen Master returned and found him. "You have come a long way to visit me," he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty handed. Please take my clothes as a gift." The thief was bewildered, but he took the clothes and ran away. The Master sat naked, watching the moon. "Poor fellow," he mused, " I wish I could give him this beautiful moon."
Truyện này mình thích đấy.
The moon cannot be stolen, coz it belongs to all. If you do not wanna lose something, share it with others.
Thôi tớ chuẩn bị biến. Mai còn party tiếp. Tặng 4C mấy bài mà chỉ có thằng ngớ ngẩn, hay ngồi nhìn mặt trăng cười hềnh hệch rồi off
Love is a function with a limit of infinity.
Hardships may take as many derivatives as they want.
Take it to the foreverth order,
But zero they shall never reach.
Let two hearts be join,
And may they integrate this function into an even greater one.
By the way,
Talking about definition of infinity, tangent, square, or triangle sometimes I ask my weird self, is love a tangent point- point of no return?, sin/cos curves - bumping to each other few times and then falling apart? or two corners of a square - looking at each ọther cross million miles ? or a stupit triangle - where everybody is a dream catcher. Off to bed......
We travel the same way, love, parallel in our affair,
until we find another pair and stop to make a square.
We four form four right angles and dally for a while.
I look at you across from me and force myself to smile.
For Euclid said it first and I but do repeat;
the opposite sides of a rectangle will never, ever meet.
Em ngán nhìn thấy mấy cái everday chị Diệu của các bác lắm rồi.
Everyday is baby shit
and grocery lists
it's time for a change
Everyday is corporate shit
Politics and power plays
it's time for time magazination
Poor this guy
you "ALL" people out there
I reach out for help
how long is the distance
between passion and pity
how many days and nights
would you stare at phone
to hear the pleasant ringing
of the reply to your phone call
how long would it take
to build a shining palace of hope
in your foggy dream
days, months, years?
to drown your love in history
seconds, moments, words?
how many times would you risk
to sow happiness
harvest deep sorrow
and still survive?
how long would it take
to realize you are sold for free
how many more times would you
put your soul on sale?
how hard would be the penalty of your crime
to keep pushing her away
till finally sink
in the empty freedom
how silently would you let it go
while not having the right to defend yourself
during an injustice trial
how many more times one can start again
listening to the same old songs over and over
escaping from pain and loneliness
by writing dull poetry
how many more times would you
review years-old letters of her
sit on the cold stone on the street at nights
staring at the small window of your hope
whishing her shadow behind black curtain would pass by
while sharing your tears with lonely stars
how easy would it be
to sleep at 4 am and
to wake up at 6 am
whishing ALL were just nightmares
how many more times would you
stare at a picture surrounded in your thirsty mind
and cry out :
" Would you ever come back? "
how long would you wear mourning black and not shave
after losing your sun
how hard would it be
to get used to your hopeless empty mail box
while it were full of passion every day for months
how long would your heart be able
to keep these suffering questions as secrets
before your chest would expolde of pain
how many days would be the difference between
the date smiling on the last love letter
and hearing the breath-taking cold "Good Bye"
tell me you ALL out there
how does it feel living in
"One hundred years of Solitude" ?
sometimes I feel tense
and I have to hold myself -
letting go I see
two strong wondrous arms your words
which are catching me