# data[].attributes.body
For whom the bell tolls
BY METALLICA

Make his fight on the hill in the early day
Constant chill deep inside
Shouting gun, on they run through the endless grey
On they fight, are they right, yes, by who's to say?
For a hill men would kill, why? They do not know
Stiffened wounds test there their pride
Men of five, still alive through the raging glow
Gone insane from the pain that they surely know
For whom the bell tolls
Time marches on (what is it?)
(For whom the bell tolls)
Take a look to the sky just before you die
It is the last time you will
Blackened roar massive roar fills the crumbling sky
Shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless cry
Stranger now, are his eyes, to this mystery
He hears the silence so loud
Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be
Now they see what will be, blinded eyes to see
For whom the bell tolls
Time marches on (give it to me)

(For whom the bell tolls)

# data[].attributes.body
A Dream Within A Dream
BY Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

# data[].attributes.body
may i feel said he

BY E.E. CUMMINGS

may i feel said he
(i'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she

(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)

may i stay said he
which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she

(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she

(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you're divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)

# data[].attributes.body
[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
BY E. E. CUMMINGS

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈༺♡༻┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈
This is one of my favorite poems. It's a very lovely and heartwarming poem that I have ever laid eyes on . Moreover, I was also impressed with E.E. Cummings's poetic style. It's very unique, distinctive, and different from each poet, but it's not that very confusing since he usually uses simple words in his poems. And it's very beautiful.

# data[].attributes.headline
Sonnet 30: "When to the Sessions of Sweet Silent Thought"

# data[].attributes.subject
Sonnet 30: "When to the Sessions of Sweet Silent Thought"

# data[].attributes.body
Sonnet 30: "When to the Sessions of Sweet Silent Thought"
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight;
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end.

# data[].attributes.body
This Is Just To Say

BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━≾
I found this poem in the parody versions on Twitter. Some of them are really funny and that made me go to search for the original one. Then, I stumbled upon the analysis of this poem that tells me that it's not just a short, normal, and simple poem but it's also hiding some important themes such as the temptations, apology and forgiveness, the relationship between the persona and the reader, etc. and it's really impressive to me how this simple poem can hide the meaningful message.

# data[].attributes.body
To His Coy Mistress

BY ANDREW MARVELL

Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long-preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust;
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈༺♡༻┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

I just came across this poem when I listened to my favorite actor, Tom Hiddleston, read it on a podcast. The content of this poem reminds me of the poem "Go Lovely Rose" that we just learned in class. Personally, I enjoy this style of flirtation poem. I like how the poet pleads for love (or sex?) from women while also being a little bit sarcastic toward them too. It gives the poem the feelings of both romance and seduction.

# data[].attributes.body
One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII

BY PABLO NERUDA

TRANSLATED BY MARK EISNER

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈༺♡༻┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

I found this poem while I was reading a fanfic. It is the loveliest love poem that I've ever read. It truly made me blush, feel like a butterfly flattering in my stomach, and yearn for passionate love like this.

# data[].attributes.body
Ballad of Birmingham

BY DUDLEY RANDALL

(On the bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, 1963)

“Mother dear, may I go downtown
Instead of out to play,
And march the streets of Birmingham
In a Freedom March today?”

“No, baby, no, you may not go,
For the dogs are fierce and wild,
And clubs and hoses, guns and jails
Aren’t good for a little child.”

“But, mother, I won’t be alone.
Other children will go with me,
And march the streets of Birmingham
To make our country free.”

“No, baby, no, you may not go,
For I fear those guns will fire.
But you may go to church instead
And sing in the children’s choir.”

She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair,
And bathed rose petal sweet,
And drawn white gloves on her small brown hands,
And white shoes on her feet.

The mother smiled to know her child
Was in the sacred place,
But that smile was the last smile
To come upon her face.

For when she heard the explosion,
Her eyes grew wet and wild.
She raced through the streets of Birmingham
Calling for her child.

She clawed through bits of glass and brick,
Then lifted out a shoe.
“O, here’s the shoe my baby wore,
But, baby, where are you?”

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈༺🕊༻┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

On Twitter, this poem is recommended for people who have just finished watching the movie Green Book. It's the most sorrowful and heartbreaking poem I've ever read. It depicts the disgusting reality of the 1960's era, in which extreme racism happened and how it led to the tragedy that killed innocent people. I sincerely hope every people of color and minorities never experience this again.

# data[].attributes.body
The More Loving One

W. H. Auden - 1907-1973

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━≾
In this poem, I love how the poet used the stars as a medium  for unrequited love. I like the way the poet asks how we should cope with this situation, in which the poet himself has willingly decided to continue to love unconditionally even if he has to receive the indifference from his beloved one.

# data[].attributes.body
Lullaby

W. H. Auden - 1907-1973

Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's carnal ecstasy.

Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreaded cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.

Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of welcome show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness find you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━≾

This is a poem I read years ago. I can't actually recall where I first discovered it. But it brought back memories of my senior year of high school. It was a difficult and confusing time.
I'm terrified of many things, whether it be leaving my friends, the end of my teenage years, facing new things, or becoming an adult. So this poem is what consoles me. It was a lullaby that helped me forget about the troubles I was facing in reality.
and allows me to live in my own utopia for a while.

# data[].attributes.body
“Hope” is the thing with feathers

BY EMILY DICKINSON — 1861

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈༺🕊༻┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

After reading this poem, Emily Dickinson fully captured my heart. I can feel the solace soothing me in this poem. I can hear a little bird singing a song of hope in my soul. It gives me the motivation to overcome all obstacles.
So, in this poem, Emily serves as a reminder that there is hope—as long as I believe it to be so.

# data[].attributes.body
"Tell Me Where Is Fancy Bred"

William Shakespeare — 1596-1598
(From "The Merchant of Venice")

Tell me where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply.
It is engender’d in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and fancy dies
In the cradle, where it lies.
Let us all ring fancy’s knell;
I’ll begin it – Ding, dong, bell.
Ding, dong, bell.

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈༺♡༻┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

I used to read this poem in The Merchant of Venice book's Thai version,before I discovered the original one. I really love this poem because it’s highly romantic since the author can depicts how deeply Bassanio and Portia love each other.

# data[].attributes.body
WHAT RULES THE  WORLD
William Ross Wallace — 1865

They say that man is mighty,
He governs land and seas,
He wields a mighty scepter
O'er lesser powers than he;

But mightier power and stronger
Man from his throne has hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━≾

I absolutely loved this poem when I first read it in its Thai translation, and I found out later that the original one was also amazing. Both of them are magnificent and profound. I really love how the author glorified motherhood in this poem, and somehow, this poem reminds me of my mom too. She’s such a strong woman and a sweet mother, and I miss her so much since I’m far away from home right now.