# data[].attributes.headline
Love is more thicker than forget - E. E. Cummings

# data[].attributes.subject
Love is more thicker than forget - E. E. Cummings

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/22224/love-is-more-thicker-than-forget

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
E. E. CUMMINGS reads "[love is more thicker than forget]"

# data[].attributes.headline
Emily Dickinson - Wild Nights - Wild Nights!

# data[].attributes.subject
Emily Dickinson - Wild Nights - Wild Nights!

# data[].attributes.body
Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –
To a heart in port –
Done with the compass –
Done with the chart!

Rowing in Eden –
Ah, the sea!
Might I moor – Tonight –
In thee!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
"Wild nights - Wild nights!" by Emily Dickinson (read by  Dame Helen Mirren)

# data[].attributes.body
Love
Is a ripe plum
Growing on a purple tree.
Taste it once
And the spell of its enchantment
Will never let you be.

Love
Is a bright star
Glowing in far Southern skies.
Look too hard
And its burning flame
Will always hurt your eyes.

Love
Is a high mountain
Stark in a windy sky.
If you
Would never lose your breath
Do not climb too high.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
"Love Song for Lucinda," by Langston Hughes

# data[].attributes.headline
When I Heard at the Close of the Day- Walt Whiteman

# data[].attributes.subject
When I Heard at the Close of the Day- Walt Whiteman

# data[].attributes.body
https://youtu.be/6rTyb4L9nx4?si=DKiTxtngduqujcwE

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that follow'd,

And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were accomplish'd, still I was not happy,

But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refresh'd, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,

When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light,

When I wander'd alone over the beach, and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise,

And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy,

O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish'd me more, and the beautiful day pass'd well,

And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at evening came my friend,

And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores,

I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to me whispering to congratulate me,

For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night,

In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined toward me,

And his arm lay lightly around my breast - and that night I was happy.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
When I Heard at the Close of the Day by Walt... | Poetry Foundation

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that follow'd,

# data[].attributes.body
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

# data[].attributes.body
Feelings untold

and secrets not shared

is it only our peace

that we have spared?

# data[].attributes.headline
Unfortunate Coincidence by Dorothy Parker

# data[].attributes.subject
Unfortunate Coincidence by Dorothy Parker

# data[].attributes.body
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Unfortunate Coincidence by Dorothy Parker

# data[].attributes.headline
Edna St. Vincent Millay - Love Is Not All

# data[].attributes.subject
Edna St. Vincent Millay - Love Is Not All

# data[].attributes.body
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Edna St. Vincent Millay reads Love is Not All

# data[].attributes.headline
“Since There’s No Help,” by Michael Drayton

# data[].attributes.subject
“Since There’s No Help,” by Michael Drayton

# data[].attributes.body
Since There’s No Help

Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part;
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of Love’s latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes,
Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over,
From death to life thou mightst him yet recover.

# data[].attributes.headline
Писмо до теб - Дамян Дамянов

# data[].attributes.subject
Писмо до теб - Дамян Дамянов

# data[].attributes.body
https://youtu.be/u1AGcOV-7Qs?si=0-nuHlL32PcUAEGu

Писмо до теб

Вдигни очи ! За мен вдигни очи !

Защо? Не питай ! Просто погледни ме !

Помилвай ме и просто помълчи ...

И ако искаш двама да мълчим.

Защо ? Не питай ! Ти ще разбереш -

загледай се в погледа ми влажен

очите, ако можеш да четеш,

очите, вместо мене ще ти кажат.

В тях блести сега една сълза,

а твоят смях е птичка под небето.

Ръцете ти са клонки на бреза,

а аз живях без сини небеса,

без пролети, без цъфнали надежди.

Очите ти са капчици роса,

в които небесата се оглеждат.

Лицето ти е цялото в светлина,

косите ти горят като житата.

А в моите нощи нямаше луна,

затуй израснах блед сред тъмнината,

затуй протягам смръзнали ръце

и жадно през очите ти надничам.

През тях се вижда твоето сърце

и затуй тъй много те обичам !

# data[].attributes.headline
Невидима любов - Александра Колеолова

# data[].attributes.subject
Невидима любов - Александра Колеолова

# data[].attributes.body
Сълза за всеки мил жест

за всяка прегръдка, запалена свещ,

за всеки път, в който мисля за теб

как ми говориш с устните си от мед.

За добрия ти нрав и скромност,

които безкрайно обожавам,

за желанието ми да съм с теб,

но не те заслужавам.

За празните надежди,

които обличам като стари одежди,

за всяка твоя перфектна извивка,

която гледам винаги с усмивка.

И вътре стените затворени

пълни със сълзи,

ще предизвикат потоп от спомени

и несбъднати мечти.

# data[].attributes.headline
I Carry Your Heart With Me by E.E.Cummings

# data[].attributes.subject
I Carry Your Heart With Me by E.E.Cummings

# data[].attributes.body
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)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
I Carry Your Heart With Me by E.E.Cummings - Poetry Reading

# data[].attributes.headline
Paul Laurence Dunbar - Love's Apotheosis

# data[].attributes.subject
Paul Laurence Dunbar - Love's Apotheosis

# data[].attributes.body
Love me. I care not what the circling years
To me may do.
If, but in spite of time and tears,
You prove but true.

Love me--albeit grief shall dim mine eyes,
And tears bedew,
I shall not e'en complain, for then my skies
Shall still be blue.

Love me, and though the winter snow shall pile,
And leave me chill,
Thy passion's warmth shall make for me, meanwhile,
A sun-kissed hill.

And when the days have lengthened into years,
And I grow old,
Oh, spite of pains and griefs and cares and fears,
Grow thou not cold.

Then hand and hand we shall pass up the hill,
I say not down;
That twain go up, of love, who 've loved their fill,--
To gain love's crown.

Love me, and let my life take up thine own,
As sun the dew.
Come, sit, my queen, for in my heart a throne
Awaits for you!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Love s Apotheosis - Paul Laurence Dunbar

# data[].attributes.body
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.

# data[].attributes.body
When I go away from you

The world beats dead

Like a slackened drum.

I call out for you against the jutted stars

And shout into the ridges of the wind.

Streets coming fast,

One after the other,

Wedge you away from me,

And the lamps of the city prick my eyes

So that I can no longer see your face.

Why should I leave you,

To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?

# data[].attributes.headline
Неразделни- Пенчо Славейков

# data[].attributes.subject
Неразделни- Пенчо Славейков

# data[].attributes.body
Стройна се Калина вие над брегът усамотени,

кичест Явор клони сплита в нейни вейчици зелени.

Уморен, под тях на сянка аз отбих се да почина,

и така ми тайната си повери сама Калина —

с шепота на плахи листи, шепот сладък и тъжовен:

„Някога си бях девойка аз на тоя свят лъжовен.

Грееше ме драголюбно ясно слънце от небето,

ах, но друго слънце мене вече грееше в сърцето!

И не грееше туй слънце от високо, от далеко —

грееше ме, гледаше ме от съседски двор напреко.

Гледаше ме сутрин, вечер Иво там от бели двори

и тъжовна аз го слушах, той да пее и говори:

«Първо либе, първа севдо, не копней, недей се вайка,

че каил за нас не стават моя татко, твойта майка.

Верни думи, верна обич, има ли за тях развала?

За сърцата що се любят и смъртта не е раздяла.»

Думите му бяха сладки — бяха мъките горчиви —

писано било та ние да се не сбереме живи…

Привечер веднъж се връщах с бели менци от чешмата

и навалица заварих да се трупа от махлата,

тъкмо пред високи порти, там на Ивовите двори, —

«Клетника — дочух между им да се шушне и говори: —

право се убол в сърцето — ножчето му още тамо!»

Аз изтръпнах и изпуснах бели медници от рамо.

През навалицата виком полетях и се промъкнах,

видях Ива, видях кърви… и не сетих как измъкнах

остро ножче из сърце му и в сърцето си забих го,

върху Ива мъртва паднах и в прегръдки си обвих го…

Нек’ сега ни се нарадват, мене майка, нему татко:

мъртви ние пак се любим и смъртта за нас е сладка!

Не в черковний двор зариха на любовта двете жъртви —

тамо ровят само тия, дето истински са мъртви —

а погребаха ни тука, на брегът край таз долина…

Той израстна кичест Явор, а до него аз Калина; —

той ме е прегърнал с клони, аз съм в него вейки свряла,

За сърцата що се любят и смъртта не е раздяла…“

Дълго аз стоях и слушах, там под сянката унесен,

и това що чух, изпях го в тази моя тъжна песен.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.authors[].name
Van Мar Аудио книги (Литература)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Неразделни - Пенчо Славейков

# data[].attributes.headline
"Always For The First Time" by André Breton

# data[].attributes.subject
"Always For The First Time" by André Breton

# data[].attributes.body
There is a silk ladder unrolled across the ivy

There is

That leaning over the precipice

Of the hopeless fusion of your presence and absence

I have found the secret

Of loving you

Always for the first time

# data[].attributes.headline
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? (Sonnet 18) by William Shakespeare 

# data[].attributes.subject
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? (Sonnet 18) by William Shakespeare 

# data[].attributes.body
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds 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 dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to three.

https://poets.org/poem/shall-i-compare-thee-summers-day-sonnet-18

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer's... | Poetry Foundation

# data[].attributes.body
These are your own words

your way of noticing

and saying plainly

of not turning away

from hurt

you have offered them

to me    I am only

giving them back

if only I could show you

how very useless

they are not

# data[].attributes.body
All through an empty place I go,
And find her not in any room;
The candles and the lamps I light
Go down before a wind of gloom.
Thick-spraddled lies the dust about,
A fit, sad place to write her name
Or draw her face the way she looked
That legendary night she came.

The old house crumbles bit by bit;
Each day I hear the ominous thud
That says another rent is there
For winds to pierce and storms to flood.

My orchards groan and sag with fruit;
Where, Indian-wise, the bees go round;
I let it rot upon the bough;
I eat what falls upon the ground.

The heavy cows go laboring
In agony with clotted teats;
My hands are slack; my blood is cold;
I marvel that my heart still beats.

I have no will to weep or sing,
No least desire to pray or curse;
The loss of love is a terrible thing;
They lie who say that death is worse.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Fine Poetry - Poems of Countee Cullen - The Loss of Love (Read by Narad)

# data[].attributes.headline
"Две хубави очи" - Пейо Яворов

# data[].attributes.subject
"Две хубави очи" - Пейо Яворов

# data[].attributes.body
Две хубави очи. Душата на дете

в две хубави очи; — музика — лъчи

Не искат и не обещават те…

Душата ми се моли,

дете,

душата ми се моли!

Страсти и неволи

ще хвърлят утре върху тях

булото на срам и грях.

Булото на срам и грях —

не ще го хвърлят върху тях

страсти и неволи.

Душата ми се моли,

дете,

душата ми се моли…

Не искат и не обещават те! —

Две хубави очи. Музика, лъчи

в две хубави очи. Душата на дете…

# data[].attributes.body
No te quiero sino porque te quiero

y de quererte a no quererte llego

y de esperarte cuando no te espero

pasa mi corazón del frío al fuego.

Te quiero sólo porque a ti te quiero,

te odio sin fin, y odiándote te ruego,

y la medida de mi amor viajero

es no verte y amarte como un ciego.

Tal vez consumirá la luz de enero,

su rayo cruel, mi corazón entero,

robándome la llave del sosiego.

En esta historia sólo yo me muero

y moriré de amor porque te quiero,

porque te quiero, amor, a sangre y fuego.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
PABLO NERUDA - Poema LXVI-No te quiero sino...

# data[].attributes.body
Take me, boatman, in your light boat,

that silently cleaves the pitch waves

and seems to make a path from here to heaven,

and seems to chase with the gulls bold and free.

When out of the bay, there in the open,

and drops of salt splash our lips,

and the south wind blows the sails unfurled,

and the white-rigged boat starts on her way...

then, boatman, I will sing a song,

An unheard song - for my little homeland,

Whose name is a cloud above me,

whose song is for me honey and wine!

That the maidens of the dark-eyed maidens sing of the harvest,

and the young men sing them and wait by the gates at night,

and they sing at weddings, and at sittings in the dead of night,

and mothers sing when they mourn.

Oh, such a song - ominously, shared-quietly,

thou hast not heard, and perhaps nowhere hast it,

for there is no nation with a more

And with grief more grievous, and with will - unquestioning there is none.

In our country the mountains do not lose their snow in summer,

the sea is small, but has a name - Black,

and the peak is Black, ever angry and clammy,

and the earth is black - fruitful, but sad beyond measure.

Take me, boatman, in thy light boat,

Which the foaming and pitching waves do not frighten,

to make an endless path through them.

To reach the sky, to reach the gulls at will.

# data[].attributes.body
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Laughed loud at her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went laughing at her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the laughter in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

# data[].attributes.body
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds 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 every 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 ow’st;

Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

# data[].attributes.headline
Обич за обич- Евтим Евтимов

# data[].attributes.subject
Обич за обич- Евтим Евтимов

# data[].attributes.body
Аз назаем не съм те прегръщал

и назаем не съм те мечтал,

всяка ласка под брой да ми връщаш.

Мен ми стига, че нещо съм дал.

Може днес да не дойдеш на среща

но след ден,

но след два,

но след три

да потрепне в душата ти нещо

и за мен да преминеш гори,

над които небето поклаща

обгорено от бури платно.

Може дълго писма да не пращаш,

но да сложиш две думи в едно

то за двеста писма да вълнува

и за двеста да има цена.

# data[].attributes.body
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds 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 every 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 ow’st;

Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.