Poems Overloaded

One Art
Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

I carry your heart with me
EE 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 the 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)

When we two parted
Lord Byron

When we two parted
in silence and tears,
half broken-hearted
to sever for years,
pale grew thy cheek and cold,
colder thy kiss;
truly that hour foretold
sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
sunk chill on my brow—
It felt like the warming
of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
and light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
and share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
a knell to mine ear;
a shudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
who knew thee too well-
Long, long shall I rue thee,
too deeply to tell.

In secret we met-
in silence I grieve,
that thy heart could forget,
thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
after long years,
how should I greet thee?-
With silence and tears.

碧血劍
金庸

從南來了一群雁，
也有成雙也有孤單。
成雙的歡天喜地聲嘹亮，
孤單的落在後頭飛不上。
不看成雙，
只看孤單，
細思量你的淒涼，
和我是一般樣！
細思量你的淒涼，
和我是一般樣。