My poem had a nervous breakdown by Daniel Jonas

My poem had a nervous breakdown.
It cannot bear words any longer.
It tells the words: words
go thither,
to another poem
where thou can live.

This sort of thing can happen to my poem
from time to time.
I can picture it: spread all over
the white linen bed
without prospect or desire

locked into silence
like a chlorotic poem.

I ask: can I do anything for thee?
but it just stares at me;
it sits there looking empty-eyed
dry mouthed.

Note: Translated into English by Ana Hudson.

O meu poema teve um esgotamento nervoso.
Já não suporta mais as palavras.
Diz às palavras: palavras
ide embora,
ide procurar outro poema
onde habitar.

O meu poema tem destas coisas
de vez em quando.
Posso vê-lo: ali distendido
em cama de linho muito branco
sem perspectivas ou desejo

quedando-se num silêncio
como um poema clorótico.

Pergunto-lhe: posso fazer alguma coisa por ti?
mas apenas me fixa o olhar;
fica a li a fitar-me de olhos vazios
e boca seca.


Sister Don’t Cry by Unknown

Note: These lyrics/poem are sung by Collective Soul, but if you know the author, please leave a note.

Overseas through the air
Touched your heart down with care
All the thoughts left behind
Soon will catch you in time
Well, if I could, you know I would
Let salvation reign on you
So, won’t you push away
All this pain that you’ve been through

Yeah, Sister don’t cry
Sister don’t cry no more
Sister don’t cry anymore

While the scenes shuffle ’round
Let your world anchor down
Pull your heart from your sleeve
First react then believe
You won’t always get thunder
To warn you of storms ahead
So bury all this pain
And get on with your life again

Conquer some serenity
Lay yourself in field of poetry
Close you eyes to all you see
Lay your weary head here with me

Maulana’s last letter to Shams by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi

Sometimes I wonder, sweetest love, if you
Were a mere dream in along winter night,
A dream of spring-days, and of golden light
Which sheds its rays upon a frozen heart;
A dream of wine that fills the drunken eye.

And so I wonder, sweetest love, if I
Should drink this ruby wine, or rather weep;
Each tear a bezel with your face engraved,
A rosary to memorize your name…

There are so many ways to call you back-
Yes, even if you only were a dream.

(translated by Annemarie Schimmel)