رؤى بني مصطفى

In this game of life your family is the court .and the ball is your heart

Pull over. Your car with its slow breathing. Somewhere outside Topeka ,it suddenly all matters again those tractors blooming rust

Minutes before the rain begins I always waken, listening ,to the world hold its breath as if a phone had rung once in a far

He stalks in his vivid stripes ,The few steps of his cage ,On pads of velvet quiet .In his quiet rage

?What happens to a dream deferred Does it dry up ?like a raisin in the sun —Or fester like a sore

.It was a long time ago .I have almost forgotten my dream ,But it was there then ,In front of me —,Bright like a sun .My dream

Remember how we rowed toward the cottage ,on the sickle-shaped bay that one night after the pub loosed us through its swinging doors

A married state affords but little ease .The best of husbands are so hard to please

,We started speaking .Looked at each other, then turned away .The tears kept rising to my eyes .But I could not weep

!There they go marching all in step so gay .Smooth-cheeked and golden, food for shells and guns ,Blithely they go as to a wedding day .The mothers' sons

,King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport ;And one day as his lions fought, sat looking on the court ,The nobles filled the benches, and the ladies in their pride :And ‘mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sighed

There's a breathless hush on the freeway tonight Beyond the ledges of concrete Restaurants fall into dreams With candlelight couples

At the stoplight waiting for the light nine a.m. downtown San Francisco a bright yellow garbage truck with two garbagemen in red plastic blazers

?Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde? Or religious as if I were French Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous (and how the same names keep recurring on .that interminable list!), but one of these days there’ll be nothing left with which to venture forth

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر فرانك ستيوارت فلينت، يصف فلينت حب أحد المتحدثين لمدينة لندن ووصف جمالها والخوض فيها.   ملخص قصيدة London my beautiful   هي قصيدة من ثلاثة مقاطع مكرسة لمدينة يحبها المتحدث، تتكون القصيدة من مجموعات سطور مرقمة بشكل غير متساو، حيث يحتوي المقطع الأول على اثني عشر سطراً، والثاني ستة، والثالث ستة، […]

,Your mind and you are our Sargasso Sea London has swept about you this score years :And bright ships left you this or that in fee

,Around and beneath, the dull grey mist and the sullen roar of the sea ;Scant footing-place on the sheer cliffs face—with death for a penalty ,But afar and above there is rest and love, there is hope for brain and hand .The valleys fair and the crystal air and the peaks of Morning Land 

All essences of sweetness from the white Warm day go up in vapor, when the dark ,Comes down. Ascends the tune of meadow-lark Ascends the noon-time smell of grass, when night

When I was happy alone, too young for love Or to be loved in any but a way Cloudless and gentle, I would find the day .Long as I wished its length or web to weave

You are confronted with yourself. Each year .The pouches fill, the skin is uglier You give it all unflinchingly. You stare

.An Owl’s call scrapes the stillness Curtains are barriers and behind them .The beds settle into neat rows .Soon they’ll be ruffled

هي قصيدة بقلم الشاعر غاجنان مادهاف مكتيبود، وهي قصيدة تعليمية توضح لنا كيف أن الجانب السلبي بداخلنا لا يدمر إيجابية العقل فحسب، بل يضر أيضًا بصلاح البشرية جمعاء.

I don’t want them to turn .my little girl into a swallow She would fly far away into the sky ,and never fly again to my straw bed

?They asked me 'A you sitting down 'Right? This is Universal Lotteries ,they said. 'You've won the top prize .the Ultra-super Global Special

You can invest everything in someone. This one feeling chopping you up. Anyone can go into the night. I just want to be gone. I want to be unknown. There’s a storm coming. Euphoria trapped in a vial ... 

هي قصيدة للشاعرة إيلا ويلر ويلكوكس، تصف القصيدة حقائق الحياة بمصطلحات عالمية ويقلل من تأثيرها من خلال التأكيد على طبيعتها المتكررة.   ملخص قصيدة The Year   هي عبارة عن قصيدة من ستة مقطوعات مقسمة إلى مجموعات من سطرين، والمعروفين أيضًا باسم مقاطع، اختارت ويلكوكس هيكلة هذه القطعة بمخطط قافية متسق، وهي تتبع نمط (aa […]

Methinks, ’tis strange you can’t afford ;One pitying look, one parting word ,Humanity claims this as due ?But what’s humanity to you

,It was only a film Perhaps I shall say later Forgetting the story, left only With bright images- the blazing dawn

Fairer through Fading — as the Day —Into the Darkness dips away  —Half Her Complexion of the Sun  —Hindering — Haunting — Perishing 

—An awful Tempest mashed the air —The clouds were gaunt, and few A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak .Hid Heaven and Earth from view