Tasneem Zehra Husain
Wouldn't it be funny poetic, poetic justice even, if it turns out all that moves, roam around in your head is some cosmic joke, a mere happenstance, a weird by-product of an accidental thought. The sun is already past half-mast and in five more billion years it will go supernova and everything goes kaput, baby, then where will be your rusty ideologies and gods of clay. You should be cherishing the unbidden treasure that is the human clay. All that you really need lies within the breadth of your arms.
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Miriam wrote: "Ha! You and Andrew Marvell.Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ga..."
haha yeah, I mean here we are squabbling and our petty haggling. We are here only because of a burning star that is dying. As soon as it is gone. So will we. We truly are the ants and have the hubris to believe what we believe in.
Miriam wrote: "Ha! You and Andrew Marvell.Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ga..."
that's a lovely poem btw
Had we enough time
:)
there is never enough time to do all that you want to do
I don't know so many people can waste time insulting strangers on Facebook or whatever when there is so little time allotted to each of us to enjoy and accomplish.
Miriam wrote: "I don't know so many people can waste time insulting strangers on Facebook or whatever when there is so little time allotted to each of us to enjoy and accomplish."Oh absolutely !
and hey , thanks again for that lovely . If I haven't said it before , I think you are amazing and your knowledge of literary world profound .
(view spoiler)[Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long-preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust;
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run. (hide spoiler)]