Home » Poems » Poetry Art » Poetry Art / Greeting Card Maker

Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.

Text
Layout
Background

Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required
I As things do return home like a refrain, On way back from a country tour were we, A leisurely long trip—my kin and me, And met a quaint character on the train, As I recall, in his late life, nigh vain, His dress and demeanour indicative, And we at sea the way he seemed to talk, His deportment and dialogue of proud cock, Who discoursed on any a theme on earth, A Muslim sure from far, not a native, Listening to him was, not his tale’s worth, Yea, something sure was there that was not sane. The Goddess of Learning and Destiny Seemed to have blessed him— of ports so many, Who said, forces were at work in the world Far too secretly, underground, unheard: Russians, say, have advanced closer to us, Brit policies have been inauspicious, Feuds among our leaders have come to head, Confused and suspicious who see things red. And flourished our newly formed friend in train With phony smile: What might cause further pain— More things happen under and ‘pon this earth Than reported are as the news of worth. The home-bound birds like us that had not seen The world he had, struck were dumb with wonder, What with his quotes on science, his comments On Vedas, verses of Persian poets. Our young ears, untutored to this knowledge, Caused our admiring bone to turn attuned, Sure, a magnet, occult power, an astral Body some sort doubtless has him inspired, We listened to him with keenest of ears, Devout mind, he’d our heart all enraptured. The train reaching a railhead, we waited In a retiring room, tired and jaded, As change of train weighed when heavy on eyes. ‘Train's running late', when someone made us wise, Our wise man then set out a tale to spin, And our sleep said goodbye with a wry grin! ____________________________________________ Narrative |01.04.2024| Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali: Kshudhaarto Paashaana, divided in I to XIII parts, largely in blank verse that lapses into rhymes along with its twists and turns. The story is known to have happened during Tagore’s stay at Shaahibaug palace in Ahmadabad, the nearby river Sabarmati becoming river Suista in the story.

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

Color:

Main/Poem Text

Color:

Layout: TallShort

www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry

The Hungry Stones - I

I As things do return home like a refrain, On way back from a country tour were we, A leisurely long trip—my kin and me, And met a quaint character on the train, As I recall, in his late life, nigh vain, His dress and demeanour indicative, And we at sea the way he seemed to talk, His deportment and dialogue of proud cock, Who discoursed on any a theme on earth, A Muslim sure from far, not a native, Listening to him was, not his tale’s worth, Yea, something sure was there that was not sane. The Goddess of Learning and Destiny Seemed to have blessed him— of ports so many, Who said, forces were at work in the world Far too secretly, underground, unheard: Russians, say, have advanced closer to us, Brit policies have been inauspicious, Feuds among our leaders have come to head, Confused and suspicious who see things red. And flourished our newly formed friend in train With phony smile: What might cause further pain— More things happen under and ‘pon this earth Than reported are as the news of worth. The home-bound birds like us that had not seen The world he had, struck were dumb with wonder, What with his quotes on science, his comments On Vedas, verses of Persian poets. Our young ears, untutored to this knowledge, Caused our admiring bone to turn attuned, Sure, a magnet, occult power, an astral Body some sort doubtless has him inspired, We listened to him with keenest of ears, Devout mind, he’d our heart all enraptured. The train reaching a railhead, we waited In a retiring room, tired and jaded, As change of train weighed when heavy on eyes. ‘Train's running late', when someone made us wise, Our wise man then set out a tale to spin, And our sleep said goodbye with a wry grin! ____________________________________________ Narrative |01.04.2024| Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali: Kshudhaarto Paashaana, divided in I to XIII parts, largely in blank verse that lapses into rhymes along with its twists and turns. The story is known to have happened during Tagore’s stay at Shaahibaug palace in Ahmadabad, the nearby river Sabarmati becoming river Suista in the story.