Down from the ridge
of Mount Tskuba
the Minano river flows,
until it gathers at last,
like my love,
in a deep, still pool

--retired Japanese Emperor Yozei, 884 A.D.

Yes, Rachel. I really love Jelaluddin Rumi poetry, and this is one of his poems, Enjoy (,")

Didn't I tell you
Do not leave me for I am your only Friend,
I am the spring of life.
Even if you leave in anger for thousands of years
You will come back to me for I am your goal and your end.
Didn't I tell you
not to be seduced by this colorful world
for I am the Ultimate Painter.
Didn't I tell you
you are a fish do not go to dry land
for I am the deep Sea.
Didn't I tell you
not to fall in the net like birds
For I am your wings and the power of light.
Didn't I tell you
not to let them change your mind and turn you to ice
for I am your fire and warmth.
Didn't I tell you
they will corrupt you and make you forget
that I am the Spring of all virtues.
Didn't I tell you
not to question my actions
for everything falls into order, I am the Creator.
Didn't I tell you
your heart can guide you home
because it knows that I am your Master.

"IF" by English Poet Rudyard Kipling

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

.

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

.

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

This one holds a special place in my heart...

"L'Albatros" de Charles Baudelaire

Souvent, pour s'amuser, les hommes d'équipage
Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers,
Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage,
Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers.

À peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches,
Que ces rois de l'azur, maladroits et honteux,
Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches
Comme des avirons traîner à côté d'eux.

Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule!
Lui, naguère si beau, qu'il est comique et laid!
L'un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule,
L'autre mime, en boitant, l'infirme qui volait!

Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.

"The Albatross" by Charles Baudelaire (I am not the author of the translation, it is the most accurate that I found)

Sometimes for sport the men of loafing crews
Snare the great albatrosses of the deep,
The indolent companions of their cruise
As through the bitter vastitudes they sweep.

Scarce have they fished aboard these airy kings
When helpless on such unaccustomed floors,
They piteously droop their huge white wings
And trail them at their sides like drifting oars.

How comical, how ugly, and how meek
Appears this soarer of celestial snows!
One, with his pipe, teases the golden beak,
One, limping, mocks the cripple as he goes.

The Poet, like this monarch of the clouds,
Despising archers, rides the storm elate.
But, stranded on the earth to jeering crowds,
The great wings of the giant baulk his gait.

@Bárbara: Voy a publicar uno de mis poemas, pero tal vez mi traducción es malo, así que no te rías :)

القمر

ما احلاة من سحر.

أيا قمر.......

أتخاطب في الناس اهل العقول؟

ام من يستلذ عناد الدهر؟!

أم الجمال يسبح مع الغيوم ....و الحجر؟

القمر...ايا قمر...القمر...يلعب مع النهر.

ليمسح الاعماق برقص النخيل

بمرور الطيور على شاطئ الحرير..

أراك حزين من النظر....

الى البشر...

و هم نيام

luna
¿Qué sueños de magia.
Cualquiera que sea la luna .......
Gente Otakatab en las mentes de la gente?
O desde la eternidad Estelz terquedad?!
Belleza o nadar con nubes .... y piedra?
Luna Luna ... lo que sea ... la luna ... jugando con el río.
Para limpiar la palma profundidades danza
A través de los pájaros en la playa de seda ..
Te veo triste mira ....
Para los seres humanos ...
Y dormían

this is part of long poem, I wrote it at 2005.