Shayari Bazar

The shrieks were coming from two quite naked girls, who were pursued by a pair of apes snapping at their bottoms. [...] So he now raises his double-barrelled Spanish rifle, fires and kills both apes. 'God be praised, my dear Calambo! I have delivered these two poor creatures from grave peril; if it was a sin to kill an Inquisitor and a Jesuit, I have made ample amends by saving the lives of two girls [...]'He was about to continue, but words failed him when he saw the two girls throw their arms lovingly around the two apes and collapse in tears over their corpses, filling the air with the most pitiful lamentations. 'I was not expecting quite so much tenderness of heart,' he said at last to Cacambo, who replied: 'You've excelled yourself this time, Master; you have just despatched the two lovers of these young ladies.' '-Their lovers! Is it possible? You're making fun of me, Cacambo; how could anyone believe in such a thing?' - 'My dear Master,' retorted Cacambo, 'you are always astounished by everything; why do you find it so strange that in some countries it is apes who enjoy the favours of young ladies? After all, they are one-quarter human, just as I am one-quarter Spanish.

The things that could be controlled, though, was this moment. And Elijah kissed me like it was a natural-born instinct. We had our story and they had theirs. No, ours wasn’t exactly beautiful or magical, or any of those things they made us believe in. More often than not, we cried and were reckless with every decision. Those feelings we held onto in that moment were ever-changing; we did the impossible and never doubted for a second that we’d do it again. Because in our story there were no rules to hold us back or people to judge and misuse us. We were limitless.“Our love,” Elijah breathed against my lips, “will be infamous. And that’s our secret.”I nodded with my eyes still closed and allowed his touch to overwhelm me. Every moment with him was like a walk in the dark, a dive into the forbidden deep. And unlike the others—I welcomed the darkness.“Make love to me,” I whispered. They were words uttered before, but this time they held the weight of the moment and our will to never let it go. Eli needed no further permission and he encased me—consumed my very being—with his soft kisses and soothing caresses. Everywhere he touched flared and burned. And I flew.

While gently pushing her towards the dressing room, Lazarus ventured, "Can I ask you something kind of personal?"Pulling her shirt over her head behind the curtain, and holding her hand out for the corset, she replied, "Anything for you, Laz.""How are you still friends with him?""Can you hook this thing?" Holding the corset on her stomach, Lazarus peeked through the curtain, fingers deftly snapping the twenty hook-and-eye latches. "He saved my life. There are a million reasons to hate him, but there are a million and one reasons to forgive him for his faults."Twisting to look in the mirror, adjusting her breasts in the tight silk, she continued, "He'll say the worst thing at the worst possible time, except every once in awhile, he says the one most perfect thing that just makes you want to cry from happiness. He knows the exact way you need to be touched at any moment, in any mood, like he's fucking telepathic. He'll make you want to scream when he ignores you, but then you find out he knows your favorite color, your favorite meal, what movie makes you cry and he can list every little thing in the entire world that you hate. And mostly? Well," Turning to face Lazarus and strike a pose, "I just can't fucking stop.

Lovers are not at their best when it matters. Mouths dry up, palms sweat, conversation flags and all the time the heart is threatening to fly from the body once and for all. Lovers have been known to have heart attacks. Lovers drink too much from nervousness and cannot perform. They eat too little and faint during their fervently wished consummation. They do not stroke the favoured cat and their face-paint comes loose. This is not all. Whatever you have set store by, your dress, your dinner, your poetry, will go wrong.How is it that one day life is orderly and you are content, a little cynical perhaps, but on the whole just so, and then without warning you find the solid floor is a trapdoor and you are now in another place whose geography is uncertain and whose customs are strange?Travellers at least have a choice. Those who set sail know that things will not be the same as at home. Explorers are prepared. But for us, who travel along the blood vessels, who come to the cities of the interior by chance, there is no preparation. We who were fluent find life is a foreign language. Somewhere between the swamp and the mountains. Somewhere between fear and sex. Somewhere between God and the Devil passion is and the way there is sudden and the way back is worse.

If only you would realize some day, how much have you hurt me,If only your heart ever, craves for me or my presence…If only you feel that love again someday for me,If only you are affected someday by my absence…Only you can end all my suffering and this unbearable pain,If only you would know what you could never procure…If only you go through the memories of past once again,Since the day you left my heart has bled, no one has its cure…If only you would bring that love, those showers and that rain…If only you would come back and see what damage you create,I’ve been waiting for your return since forever more…If only you would see the woman that you have made,You said we cannot sail through, how were you so sure?If only you can feel the old things that can never fade,You may have moved on, but a piece of my heart is still with you…I know how I’ve come so far alone; I know how I’m able to wade,People say that I’m insane and you won’t ever come back again…Maybe you would have never made your separate way,Maybe you would have stayed with me and proved everyone wrong…If only you would know the pain of dying every day,If only you would feel the burden of smiling and being strong…

A feeling struck me one fine day that people call ‘love’,Before that my life was empty, all I had was loneliness and sorrow…I loved the way it felt being with him, for I felt up above,Now everything was complete and nothing remained hollow…That person who cupid made me fall for, was a God descended from heavens,I loved him with all I had, a true heart and a pure soul…I thought I achieved the meaning of life, never did I felt so glad,But when he left me amidst a chaos, I had no one with me to console…I cried, it hurt, I wept and screamed, everyone called me ‘mad’,And still I wonder if in my life, that actually was his role…But a string still binds me to my past of untold vow,Some unsaid promises that linger between us even now,Although I don’t know where he went after that fateful day…I still try to convince myself every day, I know how,Each moment has been tough, each day a new challenge…Each hour passed as if it was my heart that always allowed,One more day to live without him, one more day to cherish…One more day to spend without the love of my life somehow,But he doesn’t know that one day, the girl herself would perish…Who loved him and lived each day of her life in his wait,For the man who never returned, for the man who wasn’t in her fate…

Tu, tu che non vuoi ch'io mi renda conto della tua posizione, e hai la vanità di mantenere a me la mia; tu che, conservandomi il lusso nel quale vivevo, conservi la distanza morale che ci separa; tu, infine, che non giudichi il mio affetto abbastanza disinteressato per dividere con me quello che possiedi, e basterebbe a vivere insieme felici, mentre preferisci rovinarti, schiavo di un pregiudizio ridicolo. E credi tu davvero ch'io possa paragonare una carrozza e alcuni gioielli col tuo amore? E che il mio bene consista in vanità che accontentano quando non si ha amore per nulla, ma diventano subito meschine quando si ama? Tu pagherai i miei debiti, impegnerai il tuo patrimonio e insomma mi manterrai! Quanto potrà durare tutto ciò? Due o tre mesi, e sarà troppo tardi allora vivere come ti propongo, perché allora tu dovrai accettare tutto da me, ciò che un gentiluomo non può fare. Oggi invece, con i tuoi otto o diecimila franchi di rendita, possiamo vivere. Io venderò il mio superfluo, e da questa sola vendita ricaverò duemila franchi di reddito. Affitteremo un bell'appartamento per tutti e due. L'estate andremo in campagna, non in una casa con questa, ma in una casetta che basti a due persone. Tu sei indipendente, io libera, e siamo giovani: in nome di Dio, Armando, non ricacciarmi nella vita che fui costretta a condurre un giorno.

It was a black and hooded head; and hanging there in the midst of so intense a calm, it seemed the Sphynx’s in the desert. “Speak, thou vast and venerable head,” muttered Ahab, “which, though ungarnished with a beard, yet here and there lookest hoary with mosses; speak, mighty head, and tell us the secret thing that is in thee. Of all divers, thou hast dived the deepest. That head upon which the upper sun now gleams, has moved amid this world’s foundations. Where unrecorded names and navies rust, and untold hopes and anchors rot; where in her murderous hold this frigate earth is ballasted with bones of millions of the drowned; there, in that awful water-land, there was thy most familiar home. Thou hast been where bell or diver never went; hast slept by many a sailor’s side, where sleepless mothers would give their lives to lay them down. Thou saw’st the locked lovers when leaping from their flaming ship; heart to heart they sank beneath the exulting wave; true to each other, when heaven seemed false to them. Thou saw’st the murdered mate when tossed by pirates from the midnight deck; for hours he fell into the deeper midnight of the insatiate maw; and his murderers still sailed on unharmed—while swift lightnings shivered the neighboring ship that would have borne a righteous husband to outstretched, longing arms. O head! thou hast seen enough to split the planets and make an infidel of Abraham, and not one syllable is thine!

The Knowing Afterwards, when we have slept, paradise- comaed and woken, we lie a long time looking at each other.I do not know what he sees, but I see eyes of surpassing tenderness and calm, a calm like the dignity of matter. I love the open ocean blue-grey-green of his iris, I love the curve of it against the white, that curve the sight of what has caused me to come, when he’s quite still, deep inside me. I have never seen a curve like that, except the earth from outer space. I don’t know where he got his kindness without self-regard, almost without self, and yet he chose one woman, instead of the others.By knowing him, I get to know the purity of the animal which mates for life. Sometimes he is slightly smiling, but mostly he just gazes at me gazing, his entire face lit. I love to see it change if I cry–there is no worry, no pity, no graver radiance. If we are on our backs, side by side, with our faces turned fully to face each other, I can hear a tear from my lower eye hit the sheet, as if it is an early day on earth, and then the upper eye’s tears braid and sluice down through the lower eyebrow like the invention of farmimg, irrigation, a non-nomadic people.I am so lucky that I can know him. This is the only way to know him. I am the only one who knows him.When I wake again, he is still looking at me, as if he is eternal. For an hour we wake and doze, and slowly I know that though we are sated, though we are hardly touching, this is the coming the other coming brought us to the edge of–we are entering, deeper and deeper, gaze by gaze, this place beyond the other places, beyond the body itself, we are making love.

I have many lovers.Where ever I look, I find them.There is no place devoid of them.They are everywhere:In the enchanting Cottonwood trees,The rivers, the rocky roads, the hills, the mystic trails,The snow capped mountains,The skies, the clouds, the soaring eagle ,The blackness of night, as black as the Raven,The absolute brave Cactus,Listening to me, and the whispers I breathe.Where ever I, look I find them.There is no place devoid of them.My lovers are everywhere.They are everywhere:In the rains, the freezing winds,The sun, the moonlight,The darkness of despair,The days of pain and sorrow,They never leave me, or betray me,Or ever forsake me,Even in my unfaithfulness,They remain mine.Am I blessed, crazy, or blind?However much I dare,Even in those careless moments; they care.Where ever I look, I find them,There is no place devoid of them,My lovers are everywhere.They are everywhere:I close my eye’s, I see them,They appear to me patiently,like some ancient melody,in my waking dreams, they are like wise prophets,twirling in compassionate dances of forgiveness.Allowing me my mistakes of existence.They give me, ‘me’.Reach for my fears, cradle and hold me.They are everywhere:I will regenerate,and shine through their presence.Through their guidance, from their quiet empowerment,I will gather myself, pick up my pride,Understand ‘life’, and remember reality.Finally, when my ‘being’ remains not with me,they will once again redefine, re-collect me,recreate the aura around me,find another place to replant me.They are everywhere:No place is devoid of them.Countless lovers.Their love: Omnipresent.Only if one can ‘see’,These lovers are everywhere.

I have many lovers.Where ever I look, I find them.There is no place devoid of them.They are everywhere:In the enchanting Cottonwood trees,The rivers, the rocky roads, the hills, the mystic trails,The snow capped mountains,The skies, the clouds, the soaring Eagles,The blackness of night, as black as the Raven,The absolute brave Cactus,Listening to me, and the whispers I breathe.Where ever I, look I find them.There is no place devoid of them.My lovers are everywhere.They are everywhere:In the rains, the freezing winds,The sun, the moonlight,The darkness of despair,The days of pain and sorrow,They never leave me, or betray me,Or ever forsake me,Even in my unfaithfulness,They remain mine.Am I blessed, crazy, or blind?However much I dare,Even in those careless moments; they care.Where ever I look, I find them,There is no place devoid of them,My lovers are everywhere.They are everywhere:I close my eye’s, I see them,They appear to me patiently,like some ancient melody,in my waking dreams, they are like wise prophets,twirling in compassionate dances of forgiveness.Allowing me my mistakes of existence,They give me, ‘me’,Reach for my fears, cradle and hold me.They are everywhere.I will regenerate,and shine through their presence.Through their guidance, from their quiet empowerment,I will gather myself, pick up my pride,Understand ‘life’, and remember reality.Finally, when my ‘being’ remains not with me,they will once again redefine, re-collect me,recreate the aura around me,find another place to replant me.They are everywhere.No place is devoid of them.Countless lovers.Their love: Omnipresent.Only if one can ‘see’,These lovers are everywhere .

قال أحد الطيور الذكور لإحدى الطيور الإناث في قبة سليمان : إني أحبك فتعالى إلىّ ...و رفضت أنثى الطيرقال الذكر : لم تمتنعين علىّ و إن شئت قلبت القبة على سليمانو سمعة سيدنا سليمان فاستدعاه إليه و سأله : ما حملك على ما قلت ؟قال الطائر : يا نبي الله .. إن العشاق لا يؤاخذون بأقوالهمو كان سليمان حكيما فقال له : صدقت

Αν όμως ακούσεις εμένα, πρώτα-πρώτα θα είμαι μαζί σου όχι για να προσέχω την ηδονή της στιγμής, αλλά και τη μελλοντική ωφέλεια που θα 'ρθει, δεν θα νικιέμαι από τον έρωτα, αλλά θα κυβερνάω τον εαυτό μου, ούτε θ' ανοίξω μεγάλη έχθρα για μικροπράγματα, αλλά και για μεγάλα ακόμη θα σου θυμώνω λίγο και σιγά-σιγά, θα σου συγχωρώ όσα λάθη κάνεις χωρίς να το θέλεις και θα κοιτάζω να σε αποτρέπω από όσα θα κάνεις με τη θέλησή σου.

Every Woman is UniqueAsalamu Alaikum.Every woman is unique for she bears the complete genes and background of her family. She is defined by her roots if she would live her life within the confines of her family values.However, she can be more than that if she dares her limitations and explores her potentials.Every woman loves differently. There are women who master the art of materialism, hence, they define love as a source of material and financial fulfillment using such belief as their motivation to marriage.There are women whose only life is to nod, follow and submit even if silently they do not like what they do.She was raised to believe that she can be nothing without her man. That she is a failure if she is incapable of marriage.Then there are women of great social status and ancestry, well-educated and proud. To them, they set standards, dividing men according to their qualities and would not accept a man who falls below it. This is the type that men avoid because they often bring pain to those they reject.Then there is one type of woman, whose level I belong. She looks beyond the superficial world and desires to connect with the soul.This type finds it hard to find true love for most value physical beauty and nothing more. While physical attraction is the first step to great connection, later on, she wants more depth and loyalty. Purity that is hard to attain for most men evolve in either surrendering to temptation or just playing with it. Rare is the man who shuns temptation and honor his commitment.That is why, I do not seek. I leave it all to Allah and ask His help to send me the man who meets me soulfully, and who would appreciate me beyond what he sees.If there is none, I would be happy to face my fate.I hope this will answer all questions to me.A princess by blood right like me can only go back to my ancestry as my source of inspiration and I cannot ask for the love that can master my heart if my fate is not for it.Love comes when it is ready and it must be the true love that DOES NOT only expect, command and criticize selfishly, but a love that is pure and UNCONDITIONAL.I would not settle for anything less.But certainly, as a Muslim, I should be led to the same faith because I was born and raised as a Muslim, and I would love to die in the arms of a pure Muslim.

When she says margarita she means daiquiri.When she says quixotic she means mercurial.And when she says, "I'll never speak to you again,"she means, "Put your arms around me from behindas I stand disconsolate at the window."He's supposed to know that.When a man loves a woman he is in New York and she is in Virginiaor he is in Boston, writing, and she is in New York, reading,or she is wearing a sweater and sunglasses in Balboa Park and he is raking leaves in Ithacaor he is driving to East Hampton and she is standing disconsolateat the window overlooking the baywhere a regatta of many-colored sails is going onwhile he is stuck in traffic on the Long Island Expressway.When a woman loves a man it is one ten in the morningshe is asleep he is watching the ball scores and eating pretzelsdrinking lemonadeand two hours later he wakes up and staggers into bedwhere she remains asleep and very warm.When she says tomorrow she means in three or four weeks.When she says, "We're talking about me now,"he stops talking. Her best friend comes over and says,"Did somebody die?"When a woman loves a man, they have goneto swim naked in the streamon a glorious July daywith the sound of the waterfall like a chuckleof water rushing over smooth rocks,and there is nothing alien in the universe.Ripe apples fall about them.What else can they do but eat?When he says, "Ours is a transitional era,""that's very original of you," she replies,dry as the martini he is sipping.They fight all the timeIt's funWhat do I owe you?Let's start with an apologyOk, I'm sorry, you dickhead.A sign is held up saying "Laughter."It's a silent picture."I've been fucked without a kiss," she says,"and you can quote me on that,"which sounds great in an English accent.One year they broke up seven times and threatened to do it another nine times.When a woman loves a man, she wants him to meet her at the airport in a foreign country with a jeep.When a man loves a woman he's there. He doesn't complain that she's two hours lateand there's nothing in the refrigerator.When a woman loves a man, she wants to stay awake.She's like a child cryingat nightfall because she didn't want the day to end.When a man loves a woman, he watches her sleep, thinking:as midnight to the moon is sleep to the beloved.A thousand fireflies wink at him.The frogs sound like the string sectionof the orchestra warming up.The stars dangle down like earrings the shape of grapes.