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My LifeOne day you will ask me what I love more...you or my life, and when I will say My Lifeyou will walk away from me withoutknowing...that you are My Life*******************...یه روز ازم می پرسی چی رو بیشتر دوست دارم,تو یا زندگیمو و وقتی بگم زندگیمو...از من دور خواهی شد بدون اینکه بدونیکه تو زندگی منی
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رویاهایت را به باد مسپار Don't Ever Give up Your Dreams
شعر " سوزان پولیس شوتز " به دلم نشست ، امیدوارم شما هم لذت ببرین ....
If you know
who you are and
what you want and
and if you have
confidence in yourself and
a strong will to obtain your desires and
a very positive attitude
you can make
YOUR LIFE
YOURS
IF YOU ASK
Susan Polis Schutz
رویاهایت را به باد مسپار
گربدانی
كیستی ،
خواسته ات چیست ، و چرا اینگونه می خواهی ،
گر خود را
باور داشته باشی
با عزمی راسخ
و نگرشی مثبت
دنیایی خواهی ساخت
از آن ِ خود ،
اگر اراده كنی ...
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By The Wind به وسیلهء باد
By The Windبه وسیلهء بادSomedays ago it was,چند روز پیش بودI was looking at backداشتم به گذشته نگاه می کردمLooking at old photographsبه عکسهای قدیمی نگاه می کردمThere was happiness, but now I lackشادی وجود داشت، اما الان کمبود دارمI was child, with smileبچه بودم، با لبخندOn my lips that were pinkروی لبهام که صورتی بودندBut nowadays the cigaretteاما این روزا سیگارMade them blackاونا رو سیاه کردهIt's all too late, to regretدیگه خیلی دیره، واسه افسوسI cried for the heartبرای قلب گریه کردمThat went by the end of nightکه با پایان شب، رفتAm I allright?حالم خوبه؟I am my tribe,من قبیله ام هستمI am as you, aloneمن مثل تو هستم، تنهاThe tribe's gone by the windباد قبیله ام را بردI look forward, life's obligationبه جلو نگاه می کنم، اجبار زندگیSomething's wrongیه چیزی اشتباههWhat the hell it would be?چه مرضی میتونه باشه؟The shade of sorrowسایهء اندوهI'm became blue.مجنون شدمI'm going to stay,خواهم ماندWith dust,به همراه غبارStill has my dreams' smellهنوز بوی رویاهایم رو دارهMy tribe's smellبوی قبیله امGo on old wolfادامه بده گرگ پیرTime is the answerزمان جوابی خواهد بودTo all you won't findبه تمام چیز هایی که نمی یابیTo all you won't seekتمام چیز هایی که جستجو نمی کنی
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WE ARE SEVEN
William Wordsworth
A SIMPLE Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad: 10
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.
"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.
"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea. 20
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."
"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."
Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we; 30
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."
"You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."
"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side. 40
"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.
"And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.
"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay, 50
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.
"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.
"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side." 60
"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."
"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"
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