/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.4711412]

Hey /lit/!

I am searching for the best poem out there, the one poem that I will fell in love with, the one what will guide me from now on trough every hard time, trough everything.

It would be great if it was an inspirational poem about life.


reason; pic related, I would like to tattoo it.

[Anonymous No.4711418]

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.
A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.
And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.
He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.

[Anonymous No.4711420]

[Anonymous No.4711425]

In the rapture of life and of living,
I lift up my head and rejoice,
And I thank the great Giver for giving
The soul of my gladness a voice.
In the glow of the glorious weather,
In the sweet-scented, sensuous air,
My burdens seem light as a feather
They are nothing to bear.
In the strength and the glory of power,
In the pride and the pleasure of wealth
(For who dares dispute me my dower
Of talents and youth-time and health?) ,
I can laugh at the world and its sages
I am greater than seers who are sad,
For he is most wise in all ages
Who knows how to be glad.
I lift up my eyes to Apollo,
The god of the beautiful days,
And my spirit soars off like a swallow,
And is lost in the light of its rays.
Are tou troubled and sad? I beseech you
Come out of the shadows of strife
Come out in the sun while I teach you
The secret of life.
Come out of the world – come above it
Up over its crosses and graves,
Though the green earth is fair and I love it,
We must love it as masters, not slaves.
Come up where the dust never rises
But only the perfume of flowers
And your life shall be glad with surprises
Of beautiful hours.
Come up where the rare golden wine is
Apollo distills in my sight,
And your life shall be happy as mine is,
And as full of delight.

[Anonymous No.4711433]

>>4711418
>>4711425
so far i have found these two.

[Anonymous No.4711446]

>>4711420
what?

[Anonymous No.4711452]

>>4711433
How old are they? They're not very compelling.

[Anonymous No.4711489]

>>4711452
I think they are early 1900. maybe post war

[Anonymous No.4711752]

just a bump

[Anonymous No.4711780]

>>4711412
why would you want to tattoo it?
It'd be very awkward to read for others, you yourself couldn't read it unless you either let it get tattooed opposite to the way it's done in your pic (but then no-one else can read it) or you have a mirror at hand.

You could just print it a couple dozen times and put it into every pants and bag and whatever you have and you'll be able to read it in a much more practical way.