Myat Thura

I DARE not ask a kiss, I dare not beg a smile, Lest having that, or this, I might grow proud the while. No, no, the utmost share Of my desire shall be Only to kiss that air That lately kissed thee. Robert Herrick

HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. ‘Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!’ he said; Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. ‘Forward, the Light Brigade!’ Was there a man dismay’d? Not tho’ the soldier knew Some one had blunder’d: Their’s not to make reply, Their’s not to reason why, Their’s but to do and die: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley’d and thunder’d; Storm’d at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred. Flash’d all their sabres bare, Flash’d as they turn’d in air, Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder‘d: Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro’ the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reel’d from the sabre-stroke Shatter’d and sunder’d. Then they rode back, but not, Not the six hundred. Cannon to ...

Adorable Mother’s Admirable Journey By Tin Moe Gee up “HE!” promts the bulls to go forward with bell jingling, A few who could tarry in rest house hear it and tally beads. And so the British period passed. Bombs booming and aeroplanes wheezing; Seek shelter in a religious dwelling The one ventures in up and down riverine trading While the freedom fight is commencing And so the World War II passed. Loud noises acclaim with pride the national independence Flags flying, banners streaming in craziness Like a tidal wave it climbs And shake the earth with violence. There is however a sadness as if the sky fell And so the Aung San epoh passed. The bell tolls, the whistle blows; The Victory Drum booms! A glow We are free, we are happy - but ephemeral. Blood everywhere; it’s real. Old sheds razed to ground; hills blazed to crumble, Mothers with babies fled and trembled. Everybody was in haste everywhere These were tregedies with no finish And so the Independence episode passed. So the ears come...

Bid me to live, and I will live Thy Protestant to be: Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee. A heart as soft, a heart as kind, A heart as sound and free As in the whole world thou canst find, That heart I'll give to thee. Bid that heart stay, and it will stay, To honour thy decree: Or bid it languish quite away, And 't shall do so for thee. Bid me to weep, and I will weep While I have eyes to see: And, having none, yet I will keep A heart to weep for thee. Bid me despair, and I'll despair Under that cypress tree: Or bid me die. and I will dare E'en Death, to die for thee. Thou art my life, my love, my heart, The very eyes of me, And hast command of every part, To live and die for thee. R. Herrick

Thanks the site admin for giving permission to use this picture and poem.

Here is one of my all time favourite poems. When I am Dead, My Dearest by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830-1894) When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.