NOT WAVING BUT DROWNING

Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much further out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he's dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.

I met a traveller from an antique land

I met a traveller from an antique landWho said:

Two vast and and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,

Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown

And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,

The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal these words appear:

'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!

'Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd,

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or natures changing course untrimm'd:

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest,

Nor shall death brag thou wandrest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest,

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Let me die a young man's death

Let me die a young man's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawnby a bright red sports car
on my way homefrom an allnight party

Or when I'm 91with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chairmay rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommy
gunsburst in and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her soncut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a young man's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir

Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,

With a cargo of ivory,And apes and peacocks,

Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,

Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,

With a cargo of diamonds,

Emeralds, amethysts,

Topazes, and cinnemon and gold moidores.
Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack

Butting through the Channel in the mad

March days,With a cargo of Tyne coal,

Road-rail, pig-lead,Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.

Yours and yours and yours

The life that I have

Is all that

I have

And the life that I have

Is yours.

The love that I have

Of the life that I have

Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have

A rest I shall have

Yet death will be but a pause.

For the peace of my years

In the long green grass

Will be yours and yours and yours

Slowly,silently,now the moon

Slowly,silently,now the moon

Walks the night in her silver shoon;

This way, and that, she peers, and sees,

Silver fruit upon silver trees;

One by one the casements catch

Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;

Couched in his kennel, like a log,

With paws of silver sleeps the dog;

From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep

Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;

A harvest mouse goes scampering by,

With silver claws, and silver eye;

And moveless fish in the water gleam,

By silver reeds in a silver stream.

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of; wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there

I've chased the shouting winds along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air;

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,

Where never lark nor even eagle flew;

And while, with silent lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

The owl and the pussy-cat

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea

In a beautiful pea-green boat.

They took some honey, and plenty of money

Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,

And sang to a small guitar,

'0 lovely Pussy! 0 Pussy, my love,

What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!'
Pussy said to Owl, 'You elegant fowl!

How charmingly sweet you sing!

0 let us be married! too long we have tarried:

But what shall we do for a ring?

'They sailed away, for a year and a day,

To the land where the Bong-

Tree grows,And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,

With a ring at the end of his nose,His nose,His nose!

With a ring at the end of his nose.
'Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling

Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.

'So they took it away, and were married next day

By the Turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand. on the edge of the sand

They danced by the light of the moon,

The moon,

The moon,

They danced by the light of the moon.

If you can keep your head when all about you

'Brother Square-Toes' -

Rewards and Fairies

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!

On first looking into Chapman’s Homer

Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold,

And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;

Round many western islands have I been

Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.

Oft of one wide expanse had I been told

That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne;

Yet did I never breathe its pure serene

Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:

Then felt I like some watcher of the skies

When a new planet swims into his ken;

Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes

He star’d at the Pacific - and all his men

Look’d at each other with a wild surmise -

Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me,

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick the flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practise a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny kiss'd me when we met

Jenny kiss'd me when we met,

Jumping from the chair she sat in;

Time, you thief, who loves to get

Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,

Say that health and wealth have miss'd me,

Say I'm growing old, but add,

Jenny kiss'd me.

What is this life if, full of care

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare

THE TUMMY BEAST

One afternoon I said to mummy,

"Who is this person in my tummy?

"He must be small and very thin

"Or how could he have gotten in?"
My mother said from where she sat,

"It isn't nice to talk like that."
"It's true!" I cried. "I swear it, mummy!

"There is a person in my tummy!

"He talks to me at night in bed,

"He's always asking to be fed,

"Throughout the day, he screams at me,

"Demanding sugar buns for tea.

"He tells me it is not a sin

"To go and raid the biscuit tin.

"I know quite well it's awfully wrong

"To guzzle food the whole day long,

"But really I can't help it, mummy,

"Not with this person in my tummy."
"You horrid child!" my mother cried.

"Admit it right away, you've lied!

"You're simply trying to produce

"A silly asinine excuse!

"You are the greedy guzzling brat!

"And that is why you're always fat!"
I tried once more, "Believe me, mummy,

"There is a person in my tummy."
"I've had enough!" my mother said,

"You'd better go at once to bed!"
Just then, a nicely timed event

Delivered me from punishment.

Deep in my tummy something stirred,

And then an awful noise was heard,

A snorting grumbling grunting sound

That made my tummy jump around.

My darling mother nearly died,

"My goodness, what was that?" she cried.
At once, the tummy voice came through,

It shouted, "Hey there! Listen you!

"I'm getting hungry! I want eats!

"I want lots of chocs and sweets!

"Get me half a pound of nuts!

"Look snappy or I'll twist your guts!"
"That's him!" I cried.

"He's in my tummy!

"So now do you believe me mummy?"

But mummy answered nothing more,

For she had fainted on the floor.

Bloody men are like bloody buses

Bloody men are like bloody buses

You wait for about a year

And as soon as one approaches your stop

Two or three others appear.
You look at them flashing their indicators,

Offering you a ride.

You're trying to read the destinations,

You haven't much time to decide.
If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.

Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze

While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by

And the minutes, the hours, the days.

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,

The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.

A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,

And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;

A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread

The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.
I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,

And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;

But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed

To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made,

Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands,

The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands.
His sins they were forgiven him; or why do flowers run

Behind him; and the hedges all strengthening in the sun?

The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which,

But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch.

God pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear

The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier.
My friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage,

Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,

But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,

And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death;

For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen,

Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green

When fishes flew and forests walked

When fishes flew and forests walked

And figs grew upon thorn

Some moment when the moon was blood

Then surely I was born.
With monstrous head and sickening cry

And ears like errant wings

The devil's walking parody

On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth.

Of ancient crooked will;

Starve, scourge, deride me:

I am dumbI keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;

One far fierce hour and sweet:

There was a shout about my ears,

And palms before my feet.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.
'Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!'
He took his vorpal sword in hand:

Long time the manxome foe he sought

So rested he by the Tumtum tree,

And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood.

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back.
'And thou hast slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

'He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

She walks in beauty, like the night

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win. the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

My luve's like a red, red rose

My luve's like a red, red rose,

That's newly sprung in June;

My luve's like the melodie

That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,

So deep in luve am I,

And I will luve thee still, my Dear,

Till a' the seas gang dry
Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,

And the rocks melt wi' the sun:

I will luve thee still, my Dear,

While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,

And fare thee weel a while!

And I will come again, my Luve,

Tho' it were ten thousand mile!

Oh, to be in England Now that April's there

Oh, to be in England Now that

April's there,And whoever wakes in England

Sees, some morning, unaware,

That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf

Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,

While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough

In England - now!
And after April, when May follows,

And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows

Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge

Leans to the field and scatters on the clover

Blossoms and dewdrops - at the bent spray's edge

That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,

Lest you should think he never could recapture

The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,

All will be gay when noontide wakes anew

The buttercups, the little children's dower, -

Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

If I should die, think only this of me

If I should die, think only this of me:

That there's some corner of a foreign field

That is for ever England.

There shall beIn that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

Gave, once her flowers to love, her ways to roam,

A body of England's, breathing English air,

Washed by the rivers, blessed by the suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;

And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,

In hearts a peace, under an English heaven

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,

And water'd heaven with their tears,

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright

In the forest of the night,

What immortal hand or eye,

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Dua Hai Mare Rab_E_Zuljlal Say

Dua Hai Mare Rab_E_Zuljlal Say

K Tuj Par Rahmto Ka Nazool Ho

Na Aye Koi Tuj Par Ghum

Mangy Jo Be Dua Wo Foraan Qabool Ho

Teri Yaadoon K Chiraghoon Ko Jalaya Her Sham

Teri Yaadoon K Chiraghoon Ko Jalaya Her Sham

Teri Batoon Ko Beth K Dohraya Her Sham

Rab Se Mangi Hai Teri Zindagi Ki Dua

Tanha Beth K Hathoon Ko Uthaya Her Sham

Ankhain...

Faraz wo ankhain jheel si gehri to hain mager,

Un main koi aks mere naam ka nahi

Ashqi se uski usey bewafa na jan

Adat ki bat aur hey wo dil ka bura nahi...

Faqat is dar se soona chor dia ...........

Faqat is dar se sona chor dia hey Faraz,
k woh khuabon main bhi bichra tu mar jaingey