Tuesday, January 7, 2014

ကၽြα€”္မၾကိဳα€€္တဲ့α€€α€—်ာα€™်ား (α€™ႏွင္း)

 
British Council Library  α€™ွာ α€…ာα€žြားဖတ္တုα€”္းα€€ α€€α€—်ာα€…ာထုပ္ ပါးပါးေα€œးထဲα€€ေα€”  ၾကိဳα€€္α€œုိα‚•α€€ူးထားခဲ့တဲ့ α€€α€—်ာေα€œးေတြေα€›ာ၊ တစ္ျခားα€…ာထုပ္ထဲα€€ α€€α€—်ာေα€œး ေတြေα€›ာပါ  ပါα€α€š္။ ကၽြα€”္α€™ α€€α€—်ာတုိင္းα€€ုိေတာ့ မခံα€…ားတက္ပါα€˜ူး။  ခံα€…ားα€œုိ႕ရတဲ့ α€€α€—်ာေα€œးေတြα€€ုိေတာ့ ဖတ္ျα€–α€…္ပါα€α€š္။ The Shadow  ,The Road Not Taken  α€”ဲα‚• Time Racing  α€€ုိေတာ့ ထၾကိဳα€€္ဆံုးပါပဲ ။
 
Love & Sorrow
Marvelous   music   moves   in the wind.
Words of deep wonder wander   by.
Love   is   the   lasting   lesson   they  send.
“Our   is  for always ’’, we each reply.
Sorrow   surrounding   sets off clearer
How each is for each (  and  everyday )
Comfort   &  closeness  ,  clasping  nearer
The love we live   by  that  lights our way.
The weather has wakened this wild song.
It sings beyond sadness, wise & sweet
Our hearts rise high, and hope grow strong.
From downpour ,from darkness dawns love  complete.
 
The Gift
From where and  whom  ?  Why   ask , in torment
All   life   long  when ,while we live ,we live in it?
As pointless to ask for the truth in epiphanies
That throb in the fire, rustle  ,then fall  into ash; or
Why stars are not black in a white firmament.
Enough that it was given , green  as of  right  ,when ,
Equally possible,  nothing  might  ever  have  been
By JOHN ORMOND
(literary)firmament =the sky
(literary) epiphany=a moment when you suddenly  realize or understand something important
 
   Ignorance
Strange to know   nothing  , never to be  sure of
What   is  true or  right or real,
But forced to   qualify   or so I feel,
Or  Well  , it does seem  so:
Someone must know
Strange  to  ignorant  of the ways things work:
Their skills at finding what they need,
Their sense of shape , and punctual spread of seed
Yes, it is strange,
Even to wear such knowledge – for  our flesh
Surrounds us with its own decisions-
And yet spend all our life on imprecision,
Have no idea  why .
Imprecision= not exact, accurate  or clear
PHILIP LARKIN
 
Salt
(  I  love you as fresh meat loves salt )
There is a kind of love that want for nothing
merely time to wade deep in the salt waters
of eyes so wise they need  no words to say  .
There is a  love ,kind of  love that arises  smiling from
separate beds in separate towns
rejoicing in the existence of the other.
This love needs no  promises ,no ceremonies
Its every shared meal is a dedication,
                                  every seasoned memory an affirmation.                                   
ANGELA TOPPING
Rejoicing=(literary ) a time when people celebrate & express feelings of great happiness
 
Time  Racing
Time  race   in the clock , and   we 
His flying feet can hear.
This  seasons  turn  and bolt  and  free
Quick as white tail deer.
I fear you  time . I fear your feet.
Faster  and  Faster  they speed and
Our happy life complete
Shortens with everyday
I fear you ,seasons, fear your turn,
Bolting so fast  and  far.
Watching every year speed up ,
I yearn  for the slowness of a star .
When were young, a season seemed
Like hour in an endless  ring.
We then each other only dreamed,
Our queen of  hearts or king.
Those dreams fulfilled, each other found,
We watch our late time run .
Wary of  speed , we trust  he’s bound.
For a goal beyond the sun .
(ROBERT CALDWELL  STEWARD)
 
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;
Then took the other ,as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as for the passing  there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh,I kept the first for the another day!
Yet knowing how ways lead onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood , and  I -----
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made   all   the difference.
Robert Frost (1916 )
 
The Shadow
  Follow a shadow,it still files you ;
Seem to fly it,it will purse:
So court a mistress,she denies you;
Let her alone,she will court you
Say,are not women truly,then,
Styled but the shadows of us men?
At morn and even,shadows are longest;
At noon they arrrre or short or none:
So men are weakest,they are strongest,
But grant us perfect,they are not women truly, then,
Styled but the shadows of us men ?
by Ben Jonson [1573-1637]
ထရိပ္

ထရိပ္α€€ုိ α€žα€„္α€œုိα€€္ α€€ ၊
α€žα€„့္ထံα€™ွ ထြα€€္ေျပးα€žα€Š္ ။
α€žα€„္ထား၍  α€œွα€Š့္ျပန္ေျပးα€€
ထရိပ္α€€ေα€œး  α€žα€„့္ေα€”ာα€€္α€€ုိα€œုိα€€္α€™α€Š္။    ။
ထုိα€”α€Š္းတူ ပ်ိဳ တစ္ဦးα€€ုိ
ခ်α€…္α€–ူးငံုေပးα€–ုိα‚•α€›α€Š္
ျငင္းα€œိα€™့္α€™α€Š္ α€™ွα€”္α€™α€œြဲ။    ။
α€žူα‚•α€€ိုα€žာ α€žα€„္မဆြတ္α€€
တိα€™္းα€Šြတ္α€™α€Š္ α€žα€„့္α€€ုိα€žာပဲ။     ။
α€Ÿα€”္α€œုပ္တာ ထမ်ိဳးα€žα€™ီးα€™်ားα€œား ။
               ထရိပ္ပမာ ထမ်ိဳးα€žားα€™်ားα€œား ။          ။
ထရိပ္α€™်ားα€›ွα€Š္α€œုိ႕ထြα€€္ ၊
α€”ံα€”α€€္ႏွင့္  α€Šေα€”α€™ွာ ။
α€™ြα€”္းα€α€Š့္ခ်ိα€”္ ထရိပ္မထြα€€္
တုိα€œ်α€€္ α€™ျမင္α€žာ ။
ထုိα€”α€Š္းတူ ထမ်ိဳးα€žားတုိα‚•
ထားα€‘α€”α€Š္းဆံုး  ဆုိα€…α€›ာ
α€žူတိုα‚•α€™ွာ  ထားၾကီးေပစြ ။         ။
ျပီးျα€•α€Š့္α€…ံုα€˜α€ေပး
α€žူတုိα‚•ေα€œးေတြ α€™α€žိα€›ွာၾက ။
α€Ÿα€”္α€œုပ္တာ ထမ်ိဳးα€žα€™ီးေတြα€œား ။
                 ထရိပ္ ပမာ ထမ်ိဳးα€žားေတြα€œား ။             ။
 
What Are Heavy ?
What are heavy ? Sea-sand and sorrow.
What are brief ? Today and tomorrow .
What are frail ? Spring blossom and youth .
What are deep ? The ocean and truth .
by Christina Rossetti

ထေျα€–α€›ွာပါ

ေၾကကြဲα€™ႈα‚•   ႏွင့္   ပင္ α€œα€š္α€žဲ
α€‘α€˜α€š္α€Ÿာ α€€  ပုိ၍ ေα€œးပင္ α€žα€œဲ။
α€žα€Š္α€šေα€”α‚• ႏွင့္  α€”α€€္ ျα€–α€”္ခါ
α€˜α€š္ထခါ   α€€  တုိေတာင္းတာ ။
ႏုပ်ိဳျခင္း    ႏွင့္  ေႏြပန္းပြင့္ေတြ
ႏြα€™္းေα€œ်ာ္α€œြα€š္တာ α€˜α€š္ထရာေပ ။
α€žα€™ုဒၡရာႏွင့္  α€žα€…α₯ာတရား
α€”α€€္α€›ွႈိင္းတာ α€€ုိ ေျပာပါ α€œား ။

Remember
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
by  Christina Georgina Rossetti
 
Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
By Edgar Allan Poe

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
By Pablo Neruda

All the World's a Stage
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
By William Shakespeare


The Life That I Have
The Life That I Have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
By Leo Marks