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Best Famous Ai Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Ai poems. This is a select list of the best famous Ai poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Ai poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of Ai poems.

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by Li Bai | |

The Hard Road - 1 of 3

Pure wine costs, for the golden cup,

ten thousand coppers a flagon,

And a jade plate of dainty food calls for million coins.
I fling aside my chop-sticks and cup, I cannot eat nor drink.
I pull out my dagger, I peer four ways in vain.
I would cross the Yellow River, but ice chokes the ferry; I would climb the Tai-hang Mountains, but the sky is blind with snow.
I would sit and poise a fishing-pole, lazy by a brook -- But I suddenly dream of riding a boat, sailing for the sun.
Journeying is hard, Journeying is hard.
There are many turings -- Which am I to follow?.
I will mount a long wind some day and break the heavy waves And set my cloudy sail straight and bridge the deep, deep sea.

by R S Thomas | |

On The Farm

 There was Dai Puw.
He was no good.
They put him in the fields to dock swedes, And took the knife from him, when he came home At late evening with a grin Like the slash of a knife on his face.
There was Llew Puw, and he was no good.
Every evening after the ploughing With the big tractor he would sit in his chair, And stare into the tangled fire garden, Opening his slow lips like a snail.
There was Huw Puw, too.
What shall I say? I have heard him whistling in the hedges On and on, as though winter Would never again leave those fields, And all the trees were deformed.
And lastly there was the girl: Beauty under some spell of the beast.
Her pale face was the lantern By which they read in life's dark book The shrill sentence: God is love.

by Adelaide Crapsey | |


With swift
Great sweep of her
Magnificent arm my pain
Clanged back the doors that shut my soul
From life.

by Tanwir Phool | |


Please see these links for Tanwir Phool's poetry :

php?f=18&t=4969 http://urdunetjpn.
com/ur/category/tanwir-phool/ G H A Z A L ---------------- Rishta-e-jism-o-jaaN Raunaq-e-eeN jahaaN MuKhtaSar hai safar MuKhtaSar daastaaN Aie miray ham safar ! Tu kahaaN , main kahaaN Chand tinkay milay Ban geya aa'shiyaaN Maah-o-anjum se hai Zeenat-e-aasmaaN Husn hai chaandni Ishq barq-e-tapaaN Rahbari aam thi LuT geya kaarwaaN Qurb us ka bana RaaHat-e-aashiqaaN Phool ! dam se tiray Saj geya gulsitaaN ********************** http://allaboutreligions.

by Tanwir Phool | |


Tiri Qudrat ko yaa Rab ! zarray zarray sey a'yaaN dekhaa
Qamar maiN ,shams maiN ,anjum maiN Tujh ko zaufishaaN dekhaa

Who sheereeN Naam hai ALLAH kaa jo RaaHat-e-dil hai
Fanaa jo ho geya Us par, usay hi jaawidaaN dekhaa

Pukaaraa markaz-e-dil sey to paayaa paas hi Us ko
Usay hi BaKhshnay waalaa ,Usay hi MehrbaaN dekhaa

Sahaaraa be-basoN kaa hai , Who mazloomoN kaa Waali hai
Usi kay aastaanay ko panaah-e-be-kasaaN dekhaa

Samajh saktaa naheeN Israar Haq kay aa'dam-e-Khaaki
Na aiesaa falsafi dekhaa , na aiesaa nukta daaN dekhaa

Gulistaan-e-jahaaN maiN Phool ki faryaad Sun yaa Rab !
Tiraa hi Naam lay kar us ko maSroof-e-fuGhaaN dekhaa

(Poet : Tanwir Phool)

You can read more poetry of Tanwir Phool at these links :

com/ur/category/tanwir-phool/ http://www.

by Masaoka Shiki | |

Toward those short trees

Toward those short trees
We saw a hawk descending
On a day in spring

by Natsume Soseki | |

Over the wintry

Over the wintry
forest, winds howl in rage
with no leaves to blow.

by Omar Khayyam | |


Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the Sky,
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
“Awake, my Little ones, and fill the cup
Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup be dry.

by Omar Khayyam | |

And as the Cock crew

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted—“Open then the Door!
You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more.

by Omar Khayyam | |

Now the New Year

Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the White Hand of Moses on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

by Omar Khayyam | |

Irám indeed is gone

Irám indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshýd’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where no one knows:
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.

by Omar Khayyam | |

And David’s Lips are lockt

And David’s Lips are lockt; but in divine
High-piping Péhlevi, with “Wine! Wine! Wine!
Red Wine!”—the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That yellow Cheek of hers to incarnadine.

by Kobayashi Issa | |

That wren

 That wren--
looking here, looking there.
You lose something?

by Amy Levy | |

A Dirge

 "Mein Herz, mein Herz ist traurig
Doch lustig leuchtet der Mai"

There's May amid the meadows,
There's May amid the trees;
Her May-time note the cuckoo
Sends forth upon the breeze.
Above the rippling river May swallows skim and dart; November and December Keep watch within my heart.
The spring breathes in the breezes, The woods with wood-notes ring, And all the budding hedgerows Are fragrant of the spring.
In secret, silent places The live green things upstart; Ice-bound, ice-crown'd dwells winter For ever in my heart.
Upon the bridge I linger, Near where the lime-trees grow; Above, swart birds are circling, Beneath, the stream runs slow.
A stripling and a maiden Come wand'ring up the way; His eyes are glad with springtime, Her face is fair with May.
Of warmth the sun and sweetness All nature takes a part; The ice of all the ages Weighs down upon my heart.

by Li Po | |

On A Picture Screen

 Whence these twelve peaks of Wu-shan!
Have they flown into the gorgeous screen
From heaven's one corner?
Ah, those lonely pines murmuring in the wind!
Those palaces of Yang-tai, hovering yonder—
Oh, the melancholy of it!—
Where the jeweled couch of the king
With brocade covers is desolate,—
His elfin maid voluptuously fair
Still haunting them in vain!

Here a few feet
Seem a thousand miles.
The craggy walls glisten blue and red, A piece of dazzling embroidery.
How green those distant trees are Round the river strait of Ching-men! And those ships——they go on, Floating on the waters of Pa.
The water sings over the rocks Between countless hills Of shining mist and lustrous grass.
How many years since these valley flowers bloomed To smile in the sun ? And that man traveling on the river, Hears he not for ages the monkeys screaming? Whoever looks on this, Loses himself in eternity; And entering the sacred mountains of Sung, He will dream among the resplendent clouds.

by John Milton | |

Sonnet 03: Canzone

 Ridonsi donne e giovani amorosi
M' occostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi,
Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana
Verseggiando d'amor, e conie t'osi ?
Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana
E de pensieri lo miglior t' arrivi;
Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi
Altri lidi t' aspettan, & altre onde
Nelle cui verdi sponde
Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma 
L'immortal guiderdon d 'eterne frondi
Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma?
Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi
Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, e il mio cuore
Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore.

by John Milton | |

Sonnet 03


Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera
L'avezza giovinetta pastorella
Va bagnando l'herbetta strana e bella
Che mal si spande a disusata spera
Fuor di sua natia alma primavera,
Cosi Amor meco insu la lingua snella
Desta il fior novo di strania favella,
Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera,
Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso
E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno 
Amor lo volse, ed io a l'altrui peso
Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indarno.
Deh! foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro seno A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno.

by Carl Sandburg | |


 THE SEA at its worst drives a white foam up,
The same sea sometimes so easy and rocking with green mirrors.
So you were there when the white foam was up And the salt spatter and the rack and the dulse— You were done fingering these, and high, higher and higher Your feet went and it was your voice went, “Hai, hai, hai,” Up where the rocks let nothing live and the grass was gone, Not even a hank nor a wisp of sea moss hoping.
Here your feet and your same singing, “Hai, hai, hai.
” Was there anything else to answer than, “Hai, hai, hai,”? Did I go up those same crags yesterday and the day before Scruffing my shoe leather and scraping the tough gnomic stuff Of stones woven on a cold criss-cross so long ago? Have I not sat there … watching the white foam up, The hoarse white lines coming to curve, foam, slip back? Didn’t I learn then how the call comes, “Hai, hai, hai”?

by Matsuo Basho | |

Four Haiku

A hill without a name
Veiled in morning mist.
The beginning of autumn: Sea and emerald paddy Both the same green.
The winds of autumn Blow: yet still green The chestnut husks.
A flash of lightning: Into the gloom Goes the heron's cry.

by Matsuo Basho | |

In the twilight rain

In the twilight rain
these brilliant-hued hibiscus . . .
A lovely sunset