The spring sun perhaps would not heat this much, if life did not start again after every loss. I love you not so much for your realities as for your ideals. Here is no question of whiteness, white as can be, with a purple mole at the center of each flower. As sure as seasons were made for change, Our lifetimes were made for years, I will be here. The most beautiful rose is one hardly more than a bud wherein the pangs and ecstasies of desire are working for a larger and finer growth. Even that huge, that splendid end, death, would lose its meaning, If everything worth living was already lived.
It would perhaps not be necessary to smoke before breakfast, if a giant wave of longing did not challenge. Upon my word, I tell you faithfully Through life and after death you are my queen; For with my death the whole truth shall be seen. That's a simple fact. I will hold you, to watch you grow in beauty, And tell you all the things you are to me. Is all that I can say. I am on the way with you and therefore I love you. Maybe the thin waist would remain in memories, if even the shameless tea was not given in a thin-waisted glass. I would have real troubles, instead of the imaginary ones. Even a jobless home could turn to paradise maybe, if it was heated by a warm smile. If you look at the sky, you will see, The clouds have already written it as if they are jealous of me Cenk always mentions your name in his words. A thousand maids among. Love Stark in a windy sky. Even the big separations are not that hard to endure, if they were started at the best moment. I love you as the sunlight leads the prow Of a ship which sails From Hartford to Miami, and I love you Best at dawn, when even before I am awake the sun Receives me in the questions which you always pose. You are going forward toward something great. I would travel more. I will be true to the promises I've made, To you and to the one who gave you to me. If in the morning when you wake, If the future is unclear, I will be here. Daisies would not really look down, if they did not have their shares from your betrayal. If I could start over, I would carry nothing. Do you realize that this is what life is all about? Some say a cavalry corps, some infantry, some, again, will maintain that the swift oars of our fleet are the finest sight on dark earth; but I say that whatever one loves, is. Why do I love you? A known voice would not make one so upset, if it was never heard. Is ever on my tongue; In all my proudest poesy That chorus still is sung; It is the verdict of my eyes, Amidst the gay and young: True love speaks in tender tones And hears with gentle ear, True love gives with open heart And true love conquers fear.
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New Hindi Love Poetry
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