Con Te Partiro

The original lyrics to the song that is playing now, Andrea Bocelli's "Time To Say Goodbye". Beautiful lyrics! The English translation is even more beautiful and poetic!

Quando sono solo
sogno all'orizzonte
e mancan le parole,
Si lo so che non c'è luce
in una stanza quando manca il sole,
se non ci sei tu con me, con me.

Su le finestre
mostra a tutti il mio cuore
che hai acceso,
chiudi dentro me
la luce che
hai incontrato per strada.

Con te partirò.
Paesi che non ho mai
veduto e vissuto con te,
adesso si li vivrò,
Con te partirò
su navi per mari
che, io lo so,
no, no, non esistono più,
con te io li vivrò.

Quando sei lontana
sogno all'orizzonte
e mancan le parole,
e io sì lo so
che sei con me,
tu mia luna tu sei qui con me,
mio sole tu sei qui con me,
con me, con me, con me.

Con te partirò.
Paesi che non ho mai
veduto e vissuto con te,
adesso si li vivrò.
Con te partirò
su navi per mari
che, io lo so,
no, no, non esistono più,
con te io li rivivrò.
Con te partirò
su navi per mari
che, io lo so,
no, no, non esistono più,
con te io li rivivrò.
Con te partirò.
Io con te.

And the English translation, "I'll Go With You".

When I'm alone
I dream on the horizon
and words fail;
yes, I know there is no light
in a room where the sun is absent,
if you are not with me, with me.
At the windows
show everyone my heart
which you set alight;
enclose within me
the light you
encountered on the street.

I'll go with you,
to countries I never
saw and shared with you,
now, yes, I shall experience them.
I'll go with you
on ships across seas
which, I know,
no, no, exist no longer;
with you I shall experience them.

When you are far away
I dream on the horizon
And words fail,
and, Yes, I know
that you are with me;
you, my moon, are here with me,
my sun, you are here with me,
with me, with me, with me.

I'll go with you,
To countries I never
Saw and shared with you,
now, yes, I shall experience them.
I'll go with you
On ships across seas
which, I know,
no, no, exist no longer,
with you I shall experience them again.
I'll go with you
On ships across seas
Which, I know,
No, no, exist no longer;
with you I shall experience them again.
I'll go with you,
I with you.

Can I still dare to dream of the vision that one day, at the beach with the one I love, he will recite or sing this to me, and make the sunset even more beautiful and the sea waters even more captivating?

A Sweet Poem

Something someone sent me which almost melted my heart :

A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.

Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.

And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.

My love, I have tried with all my being
to grasp a form comparable to thine own,
but nothing seems worthy;

I know now why Shakespeare could not
compare his love to a summer’s day.
It would be a crime to denounce the beauty
of such a creature as thee,
to simply cast away the precision
God had placed in forging you.

Each facet of your being
whether it physical or spiritual
is an ensnarement
from which there is no release.
But I do not wish release.
I wish to stay entrapped forever.
With you for all eternity.
Our hearts, always as one.

If I could have just one wish,
I would wish to wake up everyday
to the sound of your breath on my neck,
the warmth of your lips on my cheek,
the touch of your fingers on my skin,
and the feel of your heart beating with mine...
Knowing that I could never find that feeling
with anyone other than you.

For you I would climb
The highest mountain peak
Swim the deepest ocean
Your love I do seek.

For you I would cross
The rivers most wide
Walk the hottest desert sand
To have you by my side.

For you are the one
Who makes me whole
You've captured my heart
And touched my soul.

For you are the one
That stepped out of my dreams
Gave me new hope
Showed me what love means.

For you alone..

It has been so long since I received a poem of some sort from anyone. In the past this would have totally made me fall for someone. But I know he is not my type, simply because he smokes. And that is already a big no-no for me.

Nevertheless, it is a sweet thing to do. I also realise another thing - I do not need someone to write me poems or love letters all the time. Yes, these are good and touching, but the most important is to use actions instead of mere words.

I do not want someone whom I can just hang out and have fun with, or enjoy each other's companies with. Of course these are good and important, but I want something further - someone whom I can really talk deeply to, live with, someone to share my happiness and burdens with, and not pull out or run away in the face of adversity.

It is no use just using words by saying he really likes me and want to be with me, want to keep seeing me and writing nice poems and letters, yet so does not reflect in the actions. Afterall, actions speak louder than words!

Appreciation Of The Sonnet

A sonnet is actually an old form of poetry. What distinguishes a sonnet from other poems is that firstly, there are always fourteen lines, broken into eight and six. Shakespearean sonnets will be broken into twelve lines of three sets of quatrains, then two ending lines, as evidenced by modern poet Wendy Cope. The subject matter is almost always about love. In a way, a sonnet is a specialised type of poetry.

I came across this sonnet of all sonnets which puts it across so aptly why sonnets should be appreciated more than other types of poetry. William Wordsworth was a literary genius indeed!

"Scorn Not The Sonnet" - William Wordsworth

Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned,
Mindless of its just honours: with this key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart; the melody
Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound;
A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound;
With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief;
The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf
Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned
His visionary brow; a glow-worm lamp
It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faery-land
To struggle through dark ways; and when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The Thing became a trumpet, whence he blew
Soul-animating strains - alas, too few!

How in the world did he manage to squeeze in Petrarch (the "godfather of all sonnets"), Shakespeare, Torquato Tasso (Italian Renaissance poet), Luis de Cameons (Portugal's national poet during the sixteenth century), Dante Alighieri (of "The Divine Comedy"), Edmund Spenser (of "The Faerie Queene") and John Milton (of "Paradise Lost") all into one form? That is what really awes me!

My First Assignment ....

Talk about coincidences. One of the questions in my upcoming assignment is a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley called "Ozymandias", which happened to be the very first poem I was tested on during upper secondary Literature lessons. Luckily I still have my Literature text, so all the notes can still be used! Never heard of Percy Shelley? Surely many would have heard of his wife, Mary Shelley, the author of "Frankenstein"? She was his second wife after his first wife committed suicide after he left her. Anyway, those famous authors seemed to lead rather colourful lives.

Ozymandias (Percy Shelley)

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said : 'Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that a sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on those lifeless things,
The hand which mocked 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.

Incientally, I came across this extract from The Week (13th January 2007, page 16) that puts it so aptly why poetry (especially Shakespeare) should be appreciated :

"Wrestling with Shakespeare, Chaucer and Woodsworth has a beneficial effect on the mind, says the Sunday Telegraph. Neuro-scientists have discovered that the unusual sentence structures and obscure words contained in the words of classical writers challenge the brain, causing it to light up with electrical activity. By contrast, reading ordinary, modern text causes only normal levels of electrical activity. Brain imaging techniques showed that Shakespearean text also sparks activity across a wider area of the brain than plain text. 'The jump in activity is caused by the brain re-evaluating what it is reading,' said brain imaging expert Professor Neil Roberts. 'With a Shakespearean sentence, the brain sees it as grammatically difficult but tolerates it as making sense. It perhaps acts as a cue to the brain that there is something there that had more meaning than one meaning'."

So the conclusion? Shakespeare boosts the brain! I knew it! So I am going to start re-reading all his works again!

Fare thee well, my sweet! Thou shalt read thy works till the morrow!

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for what the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a wood; and I--
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Problem is, shall I take the main path, or the one less travelled by?

Anger Management

My favourite Indonesian eating place, Ayam Penyet a.k.a. The Depressed Chicken (or Smashed Chicken), just opened a branch near my area. Now I have more options for eating out. Goody! Wonder if my friend was drooling when I told him that? ;-p

Anyway, I was going out for dinner with my parents when we passed by the place, so I was surprised and happy that there is a branch near my place. We went to a Chinese restaurant as my dad misses his fish head dish.

There is this Chinese scroll hanging on the wall of the restaurant. I find it really meaningful, as it is on anger management and control. It is all in Chinese, so the one that is reproduced here is a translated version, but I try as much as possible to retain the original meaning.

Be Not Angry

Life is a movie
Through destiny,
People will meet.

It is hard
to be together
until the hairs are grey

So why not cherish each other?

Flaring at the littlest things,
Looking back,
You realise, "What is this?"

Be calm and serene
When others are angry
Because who will attend to me

If I get sick
from being angry?

Anger hurts your mind
and energy,

Compare not with others
They have their own lives
to lead.

Joy And Suffering
Will come together
But nothing matters
If you have a good partner.

Probably the worst translation and poem in the world! Obviously the original scroll is more beautifully written. But the message is clear - keep your wrath down and take things easy! I must remember that too.

Another Dedication ....

1. This sonnet epitomises what love is, which I agree too.

William Shakespeare, Sonnet No. 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown although his height is taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, no man ever lov'd.

2. This second sonnet, from another one of my favourite poets, is on how you must love a person in his / her whole, not just because of the physical features.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet XIV

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
'I love her for her smile - her look - her way
Of speaking gently, - for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day' -
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee, - and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry, -
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.

A Dedication ....

I always wanted to write out a love poem of my own, but I suck at poetry, thus I have to resort to using sonnets from the greatest writers of old.

One of my favourite love sonnets is from Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who wrote to her husband, the poet Robert Browning, during the nineteenth century. She has really summed up what love itself should be like.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnet 43, Sonnets From The Portugese

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Ode To A Love Lost ....

This was written a few months back just after the end of my relationship. Recently I found the first copy and re-edited it into a better version. Perhaps it still could be better?

You are the only one who gave me a Christmas present,
Even when we are not longer in each other's presence.
You are the only one who remembered my birthday,
Even when there is no more cause for celebration.

You would wipe my tears whenever I cried,
Held me whenever I needed comfort,
Laughed with me whenever I laughed,
And gave me warmth whenever I was cold.

You cooked for me on special occasions,
Gave me gifts as good surprises,
Whispered sweet nothings for no reason,
And made me feel loved all over.

But you drove me further and further away
With your frivolity, broken promises,
Over-dependence, self-centredness,
Thinking the world must revolve around you.

How can one so sweet be so unreliable?
How can one so sweet be so frivolous?
How can one so sweet be so playful
And defensive over his own actions?

You expect me to do what your parents do
Take care of you, over-protecting you.
Doing things the way you want
With no questions asked whatsoever.

But I am nobody's parent,
I was your girlfriend, your companion,
Someone who was supposed to be
Deemed as your equal.

I had to call you in the morning
Just to wake you up,
To remind your schedule for the day,
To ensure you were never late.

But you took it all for granted,
Always expecting more,
Never keeping your promises
For what you agreed upon.

Now we are no longer together,
And your life seems in a mess
With no one to remind you of your promises
And no one to help you take charge of things to do.

Now you are unable to achieve
Even the simplest task,
Or keep the simplest promise
Without anyone by your side.

When you were seventeen
It was still excusable for your actions.
But now you are twenty-seven,
How long are you going to depend on others?

So we have loved and lost,
A regretful turn of events,
Perhaps in a number of years
You will be the perfect guy.

But I am no longer able to wait
For you to "grow up"
For you to be independent
For you to turn reliable.

I need someone who loves me
More than I love him.
I need someone who can take charge of his life
Without depending on me or anyone else for that matter.

I need someone mature and stable,
Who knows what to do and when to do,
Who treats me as an equal
And not someone who expects me to be like his mother.

So fare thee well, my sweet.
Sorry that things did not work out.
You will be fondly missed,
For all the good memories we have achieved.

Poetic License

A stranger you were once.
Then with a gentle look
You took my hand.
As our lives engaged,
You lit my life.
Love is a decision,
Not an emotion or feeling,
That if made from the heart
Will outlast anything.

Nice poem right? No, it is not by me. I got this from one of my online friends which I find very meaningful. Ironically, despite all the English Literature I have done, I still cannot write good poetry. :-( The above poem reminds me of Shakespeare's most famous sonnet - Sonnet No. 18.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling bud 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 ever fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st 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.

Beautiful right? The best forms of poetry (especially love poems) I love are still Shakespearean quotations. Just like my favourite verses from some of my favourite plays below.

Romeo and Juliet

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears;
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

And the famous line : My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep: the more it give to thee The more I have, for both are infinite.

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans;
Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moments mirth
With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:
If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain;
If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Twelth Night

If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! It had a dying fall;
O, it came o'er my ear like a sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.

Maybe I shall try composing a haiku on the same theme :

What is about love
That cause all to live and die
In eternity.

Ok, I already said I cannot write any form of good poetry. I can analyse and argue about poems, but yet I suck at writing poems. That is why I always admire my friends who can write such beautiful poems so effortlessly. So for those of you who wants an explanation of what the above poems mean, feel free to let me know and I will give you the gist of all.

So good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say good night till it be morrow.