Success is counted sweetest

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory

As he defeated - dying -
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!

How ......

how could
(did?)
Don McLean
confine it
to one day?

in clumps
they die
but not all at once

nor was there one
day

and often
it was only
the music
not the musician

MDC
killed JL
so the Beatles
could never perform
on earth
again

but their music died
when they quit
making it

they are the ROCK

of Rock and Roll
and fit with Mozart and Einstein

and then there is the
endless list
of
other names

a plane crash
a bullet
drugs
or just
dead
before something was invented
to
kill
artists

poets,
on the other hand,
well,
some people
only wish
we'd stop
nobody is picky about
how

but if You
have given
any person
any gift

it behooves someone
to share it

or the music really will stop
and so
will everything else


--
Jonathan

Sahirs zulm phir zulm hai

zulm phir zulm hai, baRhta hai to miT jaataa hai
Khoon phir Khoon hai, Tapkega to jam jaayega

Khaak-e-sehra pe jame yaa kaf-e-qaatil pe jame
farq-e-insaaf pe yaa paa-e-salaasal pe jame
teGh-e-bedaad pe yaa laasha-e-bismil pe jame
Khoon phir Khoon hai Tapkega to jam jaayega

laakh baiThe koi chhup chhup ke kameeN gaahoN meiN
Khoon Khud deta hai jalaadoN ke maskan ka suraaGh
saazisheiN laaKh uRaati raheiN zulmat ka naqaab
le ke har booNd nikalti hai hatheli pe chiraaGh

zulm kii qismat-e-nakaarah-o-rusvaa se kaho
jab’r kii hikmat-e-purkaar ke eema se kaho (eema = permission)
mehmal-e-majlis-e-aqwaam kii laila se kaho
Khoon diiwana hai, daaman pe lapak sakta hai
shola-e-tuNd hai, Khirman pe lapak sakta hai

tum ne jis Khoon ko maqtal meiN dabaanaa chaaha
aaj vo kuchaa-o-bazaar meiN aa nikla hai
kahiiN shola kahiiN naarah kahiiN patthar ban ke
Khoon chalta hai to rukta nahiiN sangeeno se
sar jo uThtaa hai to dabtaa nahiiN aaeeno se

zulm ki baat hi kya, zulm ki auqaat hi kya
zulm bas zulm hai, aaGhaaz se anjaam talak
Khoon phir Khoon hai, so shakl badal sakta hai
aisi shakleiN ke miTaaoo to miTaaye na bane
aise shole k bujhaao to bujhaaye na bane
aise naare k dabaao to dabaaye na bane

 

 

Jagjit Singh 

Panchtantra Stories

If.......

If

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 imposters 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 wornout 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 breath 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!

Dinkars Brahma se kuch

brahma se kuCh likha bhaagy mein
manuj nahin laaya hai
apana sukh usane apane
bhujabal se hee paaya hai

prakrti nahin dar kar jhukatI hai
kabhI bhaagy ke bal se
sada haaratI vah manuShy ke
udyam se, shramajal se

ek manuShy sanchit karata hai
arth paap ke bal se
aur bhogata use dUsara
bhaagyavaad ke Chal se

pUjyanIy ko pUjy maanane
me jo baadhaakram hai
vahI manuj ka ahankaar hai
vahI manuj ka bhram hai

Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

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