In this Post you will see some Poems about life from some great poets that will touch your soul. After reading the Poems you may see and live the life with a purpose.
Life can be all about enjoying good moments and maintaining composure while passing through the bad phases. God has created human life so that people himself can see the true colors of the nature surrounding themselves. But in this dynamic world where people and the surrounding evolves continually, people are finding it difficult to keep up with the rapid change.
This change has led to the chaos in the life of the people. While people are finding ways to get out of this chaos, one of the easiest and simplest way is to learn from the person who have passed through that bad phase.
To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ‘Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold— I aimed by Pebble—but Myself Was all the one that fell— Was it Goliath—was too large— Or was myself—too small? ---EMILY DICKINSON
Short Poems about Life
Famous storytellers and poem writers have been able to draw attention of the layman by expressing their thoughts in form of poem. Poems which define life has been a trendsetter in this Digitalized world. Poems for Life can be an instant cure for those who are suffering to keep up with this fast growing world.
“A Fairy Song” by William Shakespeare Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire! I do wander everywhere, Swifter than the moon’s sphere; And I serve the Fairy Queen, To dew her orbs upon the green; The cowslips tall her pensioners be; In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours; In those freckles live their savours; I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.
Life can be sometime be too short to live a dream or too long to stay up with your dream. As the wise men have said You either die as a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain. This has been said in context that life should not self-centered but to be lived with harmony and peace.
1. PABLO NERUDA “ODE TO BROKEN THINGS” Things get broken at home like they were pushed by an invisible, deliberate smasher. It’s not my hands or yours It wasn’t the girls with their hard fingernails or the motion of the planet. It wasn’t anything or anybody It wasn’t the wind It wasn’t the orange-colored noontime Or night over the earth It wasn’t even the nose or the elbow Or the hips getting bigger or the ankle or the air. The plate broke, the lamp fell All the flower pots tumbled over one by one. That pot which overflowed with scarlet in the middle of October, it got tired from all the violets and another empty one rolled round and round and round all through winter until it was only the powder of a flowerpot, a broken memory, shining dust. And that clock whose sound was the voice of our lives, the secret thread of our weeks, which released one by one, so many hours for honey and silence for so many births and jobs, that clock also fell and its delicate blue guts vibrated among the broken glass its wide heart unsprung. Life goes on grinding up glass, wearing out clothes making fragments breaking down forms and what lasts through time is like an island on a ship in the sea, perishable surrounded by dangerous fragility by merciless waters and threats. Let’s put all our treasures together — the clocks, plates, cups cracked by the cold — into a sack and carry them to the sea and let our possessions sink into one alarming breaker that sounds like a river. May whatever breaks be reconstructed by the sea with the long labor of its tides. So many useless things which nobody broke but which got broken anyway. —Pablo Neruda