Monday, July 11, 2005

The last house of this village

The last house of this village stands

as alone as if it were the last house in the world.


The road, that the little village cannot hold,

moves on slowly out into the night.


The little village is but a place of transition,

expectant and afraid, between two distances,

a passageway along houses instead of a bridge.


And those who leave the village may wander

a long time, and many may die, perhaps, along the way.



Rainer Maria Rilke





Premonition

I am like a flag surrounded by vast, open space.

I sense the coming winds and must live through them,

while all other things among themselves do not yet move:

The doors close quietly, and in the chimneys is silence;

The windows do not yet tremble, and the dust is still heavy and dark.


I already know the storms, and I'm as restless as the sea.

I roll out in waves and fall back upon myself,

and throw myself off into the air and am completely alone

in the immense storm.

A Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke

Friday, July 01, 2005

महात्‍मा गाँधी न मजबूरी का नाम है, न हारे का हरिनाम।



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मुक्त जनपद

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