Long Haar Poems

Long Haar Poems. Below are the most popular long Haar by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Haar poems by poem length and keyword.


Die Triomf van Jou Liefde: The Triumph of Your Love

[Afrikaans Poem with English Translation]

Hoe lyk dit of jou liefde seëvier? Laat ek my woorde wys.
Hulle sê liefde is soos 'n dwelm waaraan jy verslaaf raak,
En dit plaas jou in 'n euforiese rollercoaster.
Maar my storie kom met 'n gat in my hart asof dit onrustig is 
Soos die gedagte om die Ou Man se woorde te hoor,
"Los haar Johnny" weergalm in my gedagtes soos om te wag vir 'n betaaldag 
Met die Bybel wat op my bors lê asof my hart ondersoek is.
Ek het nog nooit vir myself die liefde gevind wat so sterk is nie 
Soos die son op my gesig skyn en die winde nie waai nie,
Want ek is al lank in die strate van Oniipa.
Jou liefde seëvier met die laatnag-ontsnappings 
Soos dit my hart met lag en verlig my probleme 
Maar ek moet aan die einde van die dag die Here dank en bid,
Voorwaar, jou liefde seëvier na die dood.

English Translation 

What does it look like your love triumphs? Let me show you my words.
They say love is like a drug you get addicted to,
And it puts you on a euphoric rollercoaster.
But my story comes with a hole in my heart as if it's restless 
Like the thought of hearing the Old Man's words,
"Leave her Johnny" echoes in my mind like waiting for payday 
With the Bible lying on my chest as if my heart has been examined.
I've never found for myself the love that's so strong 
Like the sun shines on my face and the winds don't blow,
For I've been in the streets of Oniipa for a long time.
Your love triumphs with the late night escapes 
Like it fills my heart with laughter and eases my troubles 
But I must thank the Lord and pray at the end of the day,
Truly, your love triumphs after death.

*Dear PoetrySoup Members, to those who do not understand Afrikaans, the English translation is provided below the Afrikaans poem. I had to use modern free verse techniques to mirror a personal journey from confusion to spiritual certainty. Enjoy reading.
Form: Sonnet


The Perennial

The Perennial 

On an overhang, where the mountain slopes gently towards the lowland and the sea
 there is a crooked tree with long roots embracing the mountain 
Is the plant an asp or a birch, the leaves are compact and sturdy
It has to be as it is the first who catches the winter wind or the salty haar from the sea.
It is also a tree that catches the first light of the day and the last
To see the disappearing day, the first to see how wonderfully clear our firmament can be.
This tree will not risk the indignity, of being dressed up like a tart
have gifts in the colourful wrapping of favour bought under duress and be thrown 
on the waste heap when the party is over
This tree will not be an elegant mast on a clipper sailing to China and Ceylon and 
one day run aground on the hardy coast of Norway and be sold off as planks., 
This tree is art because someone looked up and said, look
at this, its true art and has a natural beauty and emotion only great art can provoke.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

My Mothers Face

Her love is more than a small child’s first word 
My mother’s heart and love, one in a chord 
She lived all my childhood dreams in adore 
With wisdom and love allowed them to soar

When breakers of her life beat at the door, 
she made beaches of pain instead of war 
Her life taught her to value and treasure  
people’s friendship, respect, this her measure  

Her face reflects her life in soft wrinkles, 
a path by His hand with life love sprinkles 
Her wrinkles life events now in the past 
She’s thankful and now wrapped in peace at last

Her husband in heaven, and we are sad 
She shares the face of love, waiting for dad

-----------------------------------------------
Below the original I wrote for my mother

God se Gesig  

Liefde is meer as n klein kinder woord
Liefde en my ma se hart in akoord
Sy het my kinder droome elk deurleef
en met wysheid en liefde hul laat sweef

Toe die lewens branders slaan teen haar deur
maak sy strande plaas van rotse van seer
Die lewe haar geleer om te begeer,
verhoudings met mense, diep vas in eer

Haar gesig spieel haar lewe in ploeie 
Pad gestap aan Sy hand in die mooie
Plooi gebeure los sy in verlede, 
dankbaar vir als toegedraai in vrede 

Haar hart in die hemel maar, gelukkig, 
deel sy nog God se gesig, geduldig
© Just James  Create an image from this poem.
mom
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Missing

Last seen in the newspaper shop.Susan.Susan
Deakin.About 11am.Small blonde girl of eight.
An impassive constable was recording the statements
Inwardly weary with the usual hysteria.
Inwardly quailing at the thought of her daughter's reaction,
Her frantic grandmother was stumbling over the details.
Once the story rippled through the village,
A miasma of fear settled like a haar
Upon the sunlit streets
Where mothers now kept their children tight to them.
Little knots of elderly women stood chattering,
Every utterance dripping with deadly speculation, 
Drowning any pious hope that she was off  safe with her friends.
Solitary males must have keenly felt
The sharp glances of suspicion and wondered why.
Beneath the warmth of an otherwise bright sky
Swam an icy current of deepening distrust
Threatening the community with its riptide of rancour.
There was now nothing to be done but wait.

A fountain of fragrance

Fate turned serendipitous on that day
That made was I to take a rout walked less,
My nose when felt a strange fragrance on way,
Not all unknown, devoid still of address--
For I failed to recall any a name
Until a flower bed in front I saw 
And then the tree-- lit with light all aflame,
Ah, sky jasmines, I cried out in some awe.

Indian cork trees, a stranger to bare few,
Known by flowers that hang like a lantern
In late autumn, a scene of heaven’s hue,
Five white fragrant petals a burn in sun.
I try smell the cork wood
But cork’s no sandalwood!
________________________________  
Sonnet | 12.02.2026 | autumn, fate, flowers, fountain, fragrance

Note: Sky Jasmines (Millingtonia hortensis) of Indian cork tree. Buch flowers in Gujarati, Latak Chandani in Marathi, Aakash neem/Aakash Chameli in Hindi, Aakash Malli in Tamil, Seeta Haar in Bengali… 
Why a sonnet of two half lines at the end? Well, fourteen is the prevailing practice. Yet, with thirteen a sonnet defines better harmonic or golden mean considering the ratios defined by two divisions: the smaller (the sestet) to the larger (the octave) what the larger is to the whole (thirteen). But to make even number of lines for the sake of rhyming symmetry, the thirteenth line is made of two halves. So, eight plus five (full lines), not six. Also, 5 and 8 as well as the sum 13 are consecutive integers in the Fibonacci series.
Form: Sonnet


Gone Fishing

Gone fishing.

We decided to go fishing, 
Granddad Dad and I . 
We booked a Bed and Breakfast 
up in the Isle of Skye. 

We set off Friday morning 
with lots of fishing gear, 
and Granddad even managed 
to sneak aboard some beers. 

Up the road we went, 
arriving late at night, 
and in the early morning 
my goodness what a sight. 

The mountains stood so purple 
and on the Loch a haar. 
We were quickly down for breakfast 
and then back to the car. 

We drove down to the Loch 
and hired a lovely boat. 
The weather was quite nippy 
so we buttoned up our coats. 

We settled down to fish. 
It was a brilliant day, 
and Granddad told me stories 
of the ones that got away. 

We rowed back to the quay 
and unloaded all our fish. 
The day was quite successful, 
even more than we could wish. 

I tied the boat up tight 
and walked back to the car. 
When someone drew attention, 
by shouting from a far. 

A man was standing pointing, 
back towards the quay, 
and there we saw the boat 
floating out to sea! 

Grandad looked at Father, 
then Father looked at me. 
"I thought it was secure, 
how can this possibly be". 

"When it comes to tying rope, 
the skills i have not got, 
you thought i was a Sailor, 
I am a frayed knot"!
Form: Rhyme

Kachi Umer

kachi umer mein jajbaat the 
kachi umer mein umeed 
kachi umer mein khaab the 
kachi umer mein dil khush rehta tha 
kachi umer mein chehra hasta 
kachi umer mein dunian khoobsurat thi 
kachi umer mein josh 
kachi umer mein zindagi zindagi lagti thi 
kachi umer mein rishte khoobsurat 
kachi umer mein sari dunia apni lgti thi 
kachi umer mein rossein the
 kachi umer pe pyar 
kachi umer mein ishq ho gyea 
kachi umer mein ishq ki pyas thi 
kachi umer mein ishq mein har sans thi 
kachi umer mein chaand chaand ni mehboob ka chehra tha 
kachi umer mein sapno jaisi dunia thi bekhabar haqikat se pare..  .dunian dari se na kabi dare....
kachi umer mein dost dosty ka ehsas dete the 
jaise hi umer dalne lgi jajbaat kya hai har dhadkan samjhne lgi 
jaise hi umer pakne lgi har sans main ni aaugi kehne lgi 
jaise hi umer sal gujar gai harpal har ehsas zindagi haar gai 
jaise hi din raat chhut te gaye har jajbaat dhere dhere tut te gaye 
jaise hi raatein kat ti gai.....har pyar ki ghadi nafrat mein batt ti gai...
jaise log naye milte gaye har rishte alvidah kehte gaye.
jaise hi ishq mein padte gaye..dard se gujarte gaye 
jaise hi ishq mein gujarte gaye.ankh se aashoon behte gaye 
jaise hi pyar ke chehre dikhte gaye ishq ke jajbaat sare mit  te gaye 
jaise hi hum badte gaye waise khudki awaj sun na chhodte gaye 
jaise hi dard badte gaye hum dunian se alag hote gaye 
khudko bhoolte gaye jajbaat mitate gaye 
jhutha mutha hsate gaye 
khali khali ho gai zindagi eskadar din raat gujarte gaye 
dard se badta gyea sine mein dil 
dardse badti gai jine mein tadap 
kash abh sochte hai hum ishq na kerte 
hum mohabbat na kerte 
na tutte itna na ehsas chut te itna 
kash jee sakte auroo ki tarah 
kash jee sakte dil se 
har ehsas se 
har jajbaat se 
har khaab se 
har umeed se 
har arjoo se 
har khushi se
© Rajni Bala  Create an image from this poem.
Form: ABC

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