SOME LOVE POEMS YOU WOULD LIKE TO READ
Here are some love poems in English that you must read. Enjoy read and send us your poems.
ESCAPING TO THE FOREST BY RUMI
Some souls have gotten free of their bodies.
Do you see them? Open your eyes for those
who escape to meet with other escapees,
whose hearts associate in a way they have
of leaving their false selves
to live in a truer self.
I donโt mind if my companions
wander away for a while.
They will come back like a smiling drunk.
The thirsty ones die of their thirst.
The nightingale sometimes flies from a garden
to sing in the forest.
Love comes sailing through and I scream.
Love sits beside me like a private supply of itself.
Love puts away the instruments
and takes off the silk robes. Our nakedness
together changes me completely.
Read Also: Attitude Status
Reason and Love
Young Daphnis, chasing Chloรซ, cried:
โMy beauty, wait! Donโt run away!
Just say: I love you โ please donโt hide; I swear by Venus, I wonโt stay!โ
“Keep silent!” Reason coldly said. “Now say: ‘I like you’!” Eros pled.
“I like you!” sang the maiden sweet, and love set both their hearts ablaze, and Daphnis fell before her feet, and Chloë dropped her flaming gaze. “Oh flee! Oh flee!” cold Reason cried, while crafty Eros “Stay!” replied.
She stayed. And, trembling with his love, the happy shepherd made his plea: โOh look,โ he said, โthat downy dove has kissed his mate beneath the tree!โ โOh flee!โ cried Reason once again; โTheyโll teach you how!โ said Eros then.
And then a smile so tender spilled across the blushing maidenโs lips, and as her eyes with languor filled, within her loverโs arms she slipped.
โBe happy!โ Eros softly said. And Reasonโs words? Oh, Reason fled.
Translated by James Falen
The Tear
Last night behind a jug of stout I sat with a hussar; and, grimly mute, I stared along the road, away off far.
My comrade asked: โWhy, tell me, does the highway hold your gaze? Youโve yet to see your mates march off along it, God be praised!โ
Dejectedly I hung my head and whispered in reply:
โFriend, sheโs deserted me!โฆโ, and then fell silent with a sigh.
A tear rolled glistening from my eye and dropped into the stout.
โWhat, cry about a girl, young lad! Oh shame!โ my friend cried out.
โLeave off, hussar!โฆ My heart โ it aches!
No painโs touched you, thatโs clear.
A single tearโs enough, alas! to spoil a jug of beer!โ
Translated by Roger Clarke
For the Lovely Girl Who Took Snuff
Can it be so? It once was roses, Cupidโs flowers, you loved, or a corsage of stately tulips, or fragrant freesias, jasmines, lilies โ you used to love them all and wear them every day against the marble whiteness of your breast. How can it be, my dear Klimena,
that you have changed your taste so inexplicably?โฆ Now what you like to smell is not a flower, morning-fresh, but a green toxic weed that human industryโs transformed into a powdery dust.
That greying German academic, hunched in his professorial chair, his learnรจd mind immersed in Latin books โ he, as he coughs and coughs, may use his shrivelled hand to poke the crushed tobacco up his nose.
That young moustachioed dragoon, while sitting by his window of a morning, still drowsy from a hangover, may puff grey smoke from out his meerschaum pipe.
That erstwhile beauty in her sixties, her charms away on leave, her love life terminated, whose glamourโs now maintained by artifice alone, upon whose body nowhereโs left unwrinkled โ she, as she slanders, prays and yawns, may sniff tobacco dust, sure antidote to sorrow.
But you, my lovely one!โฆ Yet if tobacco so takes your fancy now โ oh, blaze of inspiration! โ yes, I could be transmuted into dust, incarcerated in a snuffbox,
I could be caught up on your gentle fingers; then it would be my sweetest pleasure to have you sprinkle me upon your breast beneath your silken hanky โ and perhaps even โ No, empty dream! That cannot be. Why canโt harsh Fate relent enough to let me be a pinch of snuff?
Translated by Roger Clarke
To a Young Widow
Lida, true and loyal friend, through my shallow sleep beside you, tired and happy from our love, I can hear you sighing โ why? Why, too, when Iโm burning fiercely in intensity of passion, do I notice now and then that youโre shedding secret tears? And you listen, absent-minded, to my ardent declarations; cold the gaze with which you watch me, cold your hand when pressing mine. Dearest friend beyond all value, will there be an end to tears, will there be an end to calling your late husband from the grave? Trust me: for those held in death-sleep thereโs no reawakening ever; sweet voice brings them no more sweetness, cry of grief grieves them no more. Not for them the rose-decked coffin, new day dawning, noisy wake, heartfelt tears of gathered friends, shattered loversโ choked farewell. Yes, your not-to-be-forgotten friend too early breathed his last and in blissful exaltation fell asleep upon your breast:
crown now won, in joy he slumbers.
Yield to love: weโre innocent. No one with a jealous grudge will come to us from nether darkness; thunderbolts wonโt fall at midnight; nor will any wrathful phantom up on two young lovers creep, startling them too soon from sleep.
Translated by Roger Clarke
To Elvina
Elvรญna, come, give me your hand, dear heart; cut short this heavy dream that wearies me. Speakโฆ Will I seeโฆ Or must we stay apart, condemned by destiny?
Shall there be no more meetings face to face?
Must all my days be veiled in constant night? Shall we no more be caught in loveโs embrace by a new morningโs light?
Elvรญna, as the nightโs dark hours fly by, may I not hold you tight, my blood on fire, gaze at you, dear, with languid, longing eye and tremble with desire โ
and then, in joy beyond all speech or measure, listen to your sweet lisp, your gentle cry, and drowse through pleasing night to waking pleasure, just we two, you and I?
Translated by Roger Clarke
The Moon
Out of the clouds why do you venture, oh solitary moon, and on the pillow where I lie alone squander your melancholy splendour? You with your gloomy visitation awaken dreams of love, the pain of hopeless passion, and the vain longings of loversโ aspiration that reason hardly can allay.
Sad recollections, fly away!
Sleep, love that failed us both outright! Thereโll never come again that night, when, moon, with your mysterious ray of placid radiance, you shone through heavy curtains on my bed, and gentle, gentle lustre shed upon my sweetheartโs lovely form. Why, precious moments, did you press with such a haste to fly away, and shadows pale to nothingness, extinguished by unwelcome day? How was it, moon, your lustre fell away in bright dawnโs radiance?
Why did the morning light advance?
Why did I bid my love farewell?
Translated by Jill Higgs and Roger Clarke
To Morpheus
O Morpheus, god of dreams, till day grant me relief from loveโs distress. Come, blow my lamp out now, I pray, and my nocturnal visions bless! Block from my cheerless recollection the dreadful pain of those goodbyes; grant me to see her loving eyes, and hear her murmurs of affection. Then, once the dark has taken flight, your power over vision ended, oh how I wish my poor wits might forget love till fresh nightโs descended!
Translated by Roger Clarke
For Friends
On you, my friends, the gods above still lavish golden nights and days: on you is fixed, with thought of love, every young girlโs attentive gaze. Play on then, comrades, for the while; drink up, and fill again your glasses; and, as the transient evening passes, through tears on your brief joys Iโll smile.
Translated by R.H. Morrison and Roger Clarke