Saturday, September 13, 2025

A sakhming Joseph Francis Laldailova kha !


‘What needs my Shakespeare for his honour’d bones,

The labour of an age in piled Stones,

Or that his hallow’d reliques should be hid,

Under a Star-ypointing Pyramids?

 

           A Khuh Hawnna : He hla hril hi John Milton-a hla hril On Shakespeare 1630 atanga lak chhuah a ni a. A thih hnu kum 16 a liam tikah, kum 1632 khan John Milton-a chuan a hla hril kal tlangin W. Shakespeare-a chawimawina ngaihnawm tak a rawn pho lang ta a ni. Eng vangin nge John Milton-a hian intitatu taka My Shakespeare a han tih kher nachhan? Shakespeare-a kha England hnutetuia chawi sei len ni mah se, a thu leh hla kha khawvela cheng mihring tawh phawt huapzo a nih miau avangin, amah ngainatu tawh phawtte chuan an intihtatu theih vekzia a rawn a rawn tarlanna a nih vang a ni.

 

            Milton-a khan Shakespeare-a ropuizia tar lang turin, Egypt lal ropui Pharoa-ate angin thlan ropui pyramid kersak a mamawh ve lo a. Mi tinin an hmuh theih thlan lung ropui ber ber hmanga Shakespeare-a hlutna kha, dam laite’n pho lan hranpa ngai hauh lovin Shakespeare-a hlutna leh ropuina chu dam laite thinlungah zawk an dam chhung zawng a awm reng tawh zawk tiih Shakespeare-a kha a rawn chawimawi ta a nih kha. Chu an thinlunga Shakespeare-a ropuina leh hlutna chu leilung dana mihringte’n kan ngaih ropui leh ngaihhlut marble leh rohlu dang dang hmanga tar lan ai chuan a hlut zawk kumkhua turzia Milton-a Hian thiam takin a rawn chham chhuak ta a.

 

Milton-a’n Shakespeare-a a chawimawina tluk bawkin Zofate dam chhung zawng, JF Laldailova hian thlan ropui leh ngaihsanawm, a hmu apiangin, “He tah hian Zofate rohlu a zal e” an tih ngai hauh lovin a thu leh hla min hnutchhiah atangte zawkin JF Laldilova ropuina leh hlutna chu, kan thinlungah zawk englai pawhin a awm ve reng tawh dawn a nih hi. Milton-a vek hian heti hian a hla hril kal tlanga zawhna a zawh chu a rawn chhang zui ta a.

 

Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame,

What need’st thou such weak witness of thy name?

Thou in our wonder and astonishment,

Hast built thy self a live-long Monument.

 

            Hriat rengna ropui ber, mihringte kan dam chhung zawng a hming chuai tawh ngai lo tur Shakespeare-a chuan a kut chhuak ropui ber ber kal tlang zawkin, amah kan hriat rengna tur lungphum amah zawkin a phum ta a ti ang chiahin, JF Laldailova pawhin a Thu Ngaihnawm Huang, a Bible Thlirna, a lehkhabu lehlin tam tak, fakselna (critics) lama a kut chhuak leh a diksawnari kal tlangte’n dam laite’n amah hriat rengna lung phum leh lung phun ropui kan siamsak ngai lovin amah leh amah a inchawimawi kan ti ve thei ta a nih hi.

 

            A hun lai na na na kha chuan Zoram khawvelah JF Laldailova anga mipui thinlung khawih danglamtu, kan thinlunga thu leh hla ngaihvenna thlipui tlehtir theitu, inhnialna ropui chawk chhuak thei, khawvel huapa lehkhabu ropui ber ber min hmel hriattirtu dang tum ah an awm lo ti ila, thu kan uar lutuk a ni thei ang em? JF-a kha a hmel hmu hauh lo pawhin a hming tal chu hre lo an awm lo ang e tih tur khawpin, a hun lai khan Zoram pumpui kha a al chhuak a ni ber a. Chutiang khawpa Zofate rohlu, a pianchampha phak kum 100-na puala thu ziak ve tura kei ve mai sawm kan ni ta tlat mai hi, a zamawm rualin ka nuna mellung pawimawh tak a nihzia phat kual vel chiam ka tum ting lo mai ang.

 

Mi hrang a lo piang ta : JF Laldailova kha January ni 9, 1925 kumah lo piangin, tun kum hi a kum 100-na a lo ni ve ta reng mai. Mihring nun hi eng emaw ber hian a khalh kal thin a, JF Laldailova pawh a bang bik chuang lo. Engti tiha Zo tawng leh Sap tawng thiam ber tia mite’n an chhal chhan tih zawhna awm thin chhanna chu, “In mi fakderna hi tak tak ni se ka va han ti êm! Eng pawh ni se, in rin aia ka thiam chak pawhin, mi lunglêng thei mi ka nih vang chauh a ni ang. Lunglêng mi ni suh ila khawiah tehlul nge hla chang khat pawh fumfêa ka by-heart theih ang?” tih hi a ni. Lunglenna hian mihring nun chhungril bera awm, inphum ru, eng emaw zuk kai harhin, mi thenkhat nunah chuan thu ziak hmangin a rawn inlar chhuak a.

 

            Mi thenkhat nunah ve thung chuan lemziak hmangte’n a rawn inpho chhuak thin. JF Laldailova kha lunglen avanga boral ta ang hiala an sawi Leitlangpui Fam Lalzova ang maia pa lungleng mi a nihzia, a thu ziak hrang hrang atangin kan hmu kur ngei nguai a. Kha a lunglenna kha ngawi renga awp hlum mai lovin, thu leh hla hmangin a rawn pho chhuak ta a. Chu chu Zofate tana malsawmna rohluah a lo chang ta a nih hi. He a kum 100-na pual hian, JF-a, Dungtawia tia amah ngamtlâktute'n an koh bawk Sap ṭawng leh Mizo ṭawng thiamzia, a sulhnu tlem aṭangin tar lan kan tum dâwn a ni.

 

A sap tawng thiamzia : JF-a Mizo țawng thiamzia kha Zo tawng thiam ka ni inti pha ve ik chuan an sawi bang thei lo a. A Sap țawng thiamzia erawh a thu ziak kal tlanga fiah tak leh ngaihnawm taka min hluitu, keia lehkha chhiar zau lo leh chhiar tlem hian hmuh tur alawi ka nei mang der lo a nih hi. Chutih laia keini ang duangina, JF-a sap ṭawng thiamzia pho lan lo han tum ve khanglan chu, pialtlepa liluh tum tlukin a harsa tih ka’n hai hauh lo. A kut chhuak kan ti bawrhbâng zawk ang tih pawh hlauhawm tak a ni! Mahse, zah fákah lû êm a chhum bik lo'ng chu.

 

Churachanpur nula hmêl ṭha Ethel-i, Zarbawihi tia a koh duat ṭhin hnenah, JF-a hian lehkha a thawn ṭhin a nih kha. He a lehkhathawn hi Pu R. Lalrawna'n phuah khawmin, lehkhabuah a siam hlauh mai a. Zofate kan vanneih phahin, Pu Rawna chunga lawmthu sawi mawlh mawlh tur kan lo ni. Napoleon-a'n Josephine-i hnena thaikawi bawngte a thawn te, John Keats-a'n Fannu Brawne-i hmangaih lehkhathawn a thawn ṭhin te, Elizabeth Barrett Browning-i'n a pasal ni ta Robert Browning-a lehkha a thawnte khawvelin a ngaihhlut si chuan, Zofate hian JF-a Love Letter hi kan ngaihlu ve ngei tur a ni!

 

JF-a hian a Love Letter hi Mizo leh Sap ṭawngin a ziah pawlh nasa hle a. Lehkhathawna a sap ṭawng thu mal chheh dan leh, a thu ziah (sentence) pahnih thum lek aṭangin JF-a sap ṭawng thiamzia tar lan kan tum dâwn a ni. JF-a hian Figure of Speech, thu ziak chei mawina thu mal chheh dan hrang hrangte a hmang thiam hlawm hle a! Chung zinga pakhat, kan ziak mi tam zawkin an hman tam loh tak, Antanaclasis a hman thiam dan kan en dâwn a ni.

 

Antanaclasis chu thu mal pakhat ni si, sentence-a thu awmze hran daiha hman kawpna hi a ni. Homonymy nen hian ngaih pawlh loh tur a ni. Homonymy-ah chuan thu mal lam rik dan inang, write/right, know/no, waste/waist hmangte’n sentence siam a ni țhin. Tichuan, JF-a'n Ethel-i hnena thu a thawn hi lo en ta ila. "Don't snap at me by not sending me your snap." tih thu hi i han chai hmasa ber teh ang.

 

He thu hlawm khat (sentence) lekah hian JF-a hian Antanaclasis a hman thiamzia min hmuhtir a. Snap hmasa zawk hian, ṭawngkam vin leh nâ taka inṭawng khûmna lam a hawi a. Snap a hmanna hnuhnung zawk erawh, thlalak emaw thuchah (message) sawina a ni thung.

 

Snap hian awmze hrang hrang a nei a. "Vawi leh khatah a tiang ken lai chu, a lai takah a ti tliak thut a!" tih thu-ah, vawi leh khata ti tliak sawina hi Snap (verb a nihna) a ni. "Chu thu thin hawng tak a han hriat chuan, vawi leh khatah a zawi nghal thut a!" tih thu-ah hian, verb angin ‘zawi nghal’ tih nân hman theih a ni leh. Thla lak dâwna kan han hmet ri khep sawi nân Snap hi hman theih a ni leh a. "Min vin vak suh" tih nân pawh hman theih a ni bawk. Snap hi noun ang pawhin a la hman theih leh ta zel a. Mahse, chu lam chu kan sawi kai tawh lo mai ang.

 

Tichuan, JF-a thu ziah awmzia chu, "I thlalak min rawn thawn tura ka ngenna che kha ngai thiam lovin, i thlalak min thawn duh loh vangin nâ takin mi hau kher suh ang che," tiin, Antanaclasis a hman thiamzia a lo lang ta a. Sap ṭawng thu mal han chhaih kual velah zet hi chuan, JF-a lo chungnunzia kha sâng tak a lo ni! He ṭawngkamah hian Ethel-i va chhaihna Pun (ṭawng mei nei) a bilh tel hi kan hmu thiam em? Antanaclasis hi Pun chi khat a ni tih lo hre ta bawk ila. A ṭawng neitu sap pachalte pawhin, hei aia mawi leh nalh hian snap thu mal thu hi an hmang thiam bik kher lo ang!

 

Benjamin Franklin-a thu hla pakhatah, "Your argument is sound... all sound" tia Sound thu mal hman nawnna te, Romeo & Juliet lemchana, "Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean" tia Shakespeare-a'n Civil thu mal a hman kawpna te aiin JF-a thu hla hi a nep bik hauh lo tih i hmu thiam chho thuai dâwn e.

 

Franklin-a thu ziak awmzia chu, "I hnialkhan han chhawp chhuah chu a dik zet mai. Mahse, beng dâr nghawr nghing lawih khawpin a bengchheng a nih hi maw le" tihna niin, Sound thu mal chu 'dik' leh 'bengchheng' sawina a ni kawp tih kan hmu thei a. Tin, mi va elsenna (Pun) a bilh tel bawk hi kan hmu thiam em? Shakespeare-a pawhin, "Remna duhtu mipuite chuan, râpthlâk taka thisen chhuahin an intibawrhbâng ta a" tiin Civil thu mal chu mipui sawi nân leh thisen chhuahna kut neitu angin a rawn hmang kawp a nih hi.

 

A dawt lehah chuan he thu, "But at least a negative of it should not be denied in the negative" tih hmangin JF-a hian a chunga lehkhathawn a ziah hi a ziak chhunzawm leh zat a. Hei zet chu a rilin, a thûk leh zual sauh a. Shakespeare-a thu leh hla hriat thiam tuma hun rei tak kan chambang ṭhin ang maiin, a thu chheh awmzia hriat tumin ngaihtuahna sen a ngai ta hle mai. He thu hlawm khatah hian, Snap thu mal ang bawkin Negative thu mal hmanna Antanaclasis kan hmu leh ta.

 

He thu hlawm khat 'A negative of it' tia 'negative' a rawn hmanna hi thlalak la print chhuah loh sawina niawm tak a ni! A chhan pawh a hma thua JF-a'n Ethel-i hnena a thlalak a dilna kal zel a nih vang a ni. Mahse, thlalak lam sawina a ni hauh si lo! A thlalak a dil avangin, Ethel-i khân ngaihdan herh deuh tak a lo nei thei a.

 

Chu a ngaihdan dik lo tak a chu, nasa leh zuala miin an ngaih thiam loha, an inkâr thu (thlalak indilna kal zel) dik lo taka sawi darh a nih zel loh nân, thlalak a thawn duh lo a nih pawhin ngaihtuahna herh zet a lo pian loh nân, ṭawngkam fel lo tak nena thlalak a dilna lo hnawl lo tura a ngenna a ni ta a ni! Chung thu sawi nâna JF-a'n sap ṭawng a han hman thiamzia hi, sapho ngei pawhin ngaihnawm an tih ka ring thin. JF-a'n Ethel-i lehkha a thawn pakhatah chuan, he thu ziak ril êm êm leh mawi bawk si hi kan hmu leh a - "If ever you ever can ever possess the sentiment to feel…"

 

A ngialngana lehlin (literal translation) chuan, "Engtikah emaw i thinlunga mi duhna tak tak i ti lang ve thei ngai a nih chuan..." tiin JF-a hian Elipsis (...) hmangin a thu a ti tawp a. A thu sawi duh sawi zo si lovin, chhiartu apiangte'n engtin ni zel ang maw tia suangtuahna khawvel fang turin, JF-a hian a thu ziak kal tlangin min kalsan ta a nih hi. Elipsis hmang thiam nih hi, ziak mi ropui nihna pakhat a ni ve reng a ni.

 

A thu chhehah hian figure of speech-a Repetition kan hmu a. Repetition chu thu hlawm khata thu mal lam rik dan inang hman nawnna niin, JF-a Repetition rawn hman hi, Assonance – Thu mala vowel ri inla lawn phei zat zat sawina niin, poetic leh lyrical quality mawi tak a rawn ziak chhuak ta a ni. Hetianga ṭawngkam hriat thiam awlsam tak, mawi tak ni bawk si hmanga thu han phuah mai kawngah JF-a kha, Literature khawvela an mi chhuanvawr sap pachalte nen tual khat an lêng dun tiin, huai takin kan sawi ngam ngei ang.

 

He thu mal; 'Ever' a rawn hmanna hian, JF-a'n Ethel-i a va ral khat chhainaah hian, a châng chuan rinhlelhna thlipuiin a nuai ṭhin tih min hriattir a. A châng leh beidawn rûkna neiin, duhthusam thamral riai riaina thlifimin a chhem heuh heuh ṭhin tih min hrilh bawk. Tin, he thu hlawmah hian thu inkalh leh lungchhiatthlâk (paradox/irony) anga ngaih theih kan hmu bawk. "...possess the sentiment to feel" thu hian JF-a ngaihtuahna min hmuhtir a. Ethel-i chu suangtuahna hlimthla mai, tak rama chenpui theih ngai loh tur anga ngaihna, an inkâr thu-ah hlauhthawn rûkna a nei ṭhin tih min hmuhtir a nih hi.

 

Chu mi sawi nâna a sap ṭawng rawn hman hi, Chawngtinleri ang maia duhawm leh ngaihawm zu nia! JF-a chhûngril nuna thu inkalh awm hi, Ethel-i hian a hmuh hmaih bik hauh lo! He a lehkhathawn chhan letnaah Zari hian, "Ka thawh aanga ka mut thlengin ka hria che" tiin a rawn hnem ngat asin! Zari chenna in kha Churachanpur kan chhun pelh pahin, kan tlawh ve ngei a. JF-a sap ṭawng hmante kha, hre thiam vek ṭhin tak ang maw?

 

Mizo tawng a thiamzia : Ti khân, JF Laldailova sap ṭawng thiamzia kan tar lang ni ta se. Thui dâwn lutuk lo se zawng, a sap ṭawng hman thiamzia tar lang turin, a thu ziak tam zawk kan bih tel tur a nia. Mahse, kan han tar lan aṭang ngawt pawhin, JF-a sap ṭawng thiamzia hai rual a awm lo a nih hi. Tunah chuan sap ṭawng, Mizo ṭawnga lehlin a thiamzia leh, kan ṭawng a lo hman thiamzia lam kan bih ve leh thung dâwn a ni.

 

Mi hrâng fâm ta JF-a’n Shakespeare-a thu leh hla a lehlin khân, Shakespeare-a ţawngkam hman ang diak diak (Literal Translation) in a letling lo a. A hun lai leh tun thleng pawha Zofate hriatna leh nun milpui, mipui nawlpuiin ngaihnawm an tih turin, hriat thiam awlsam tur zawng khan Hamlet-a leh lehkhabu dangte kha a letling ţhin tih, a kut chhuak kan en chuan kan hmu thei ang.

 

JF-a khan Mizo hnam nun phung milpuiin (Cultural Adaptation) lehkhabu a letling ţhin a. Shakespeare-a’n, ...when yond same star that's westward from the pole. Had made his course t' illume that part of heaven, where now it burns” a tih chu JF-a khân, “…khi, zangkhaw mei hêma a rai khian tuna thing bük zâr hmawr a thlen hun lai takin tiin Zopa kut chhuak lemchan ang maia chhiar theih turin a rawn letling a. A sap ṭawng awmze bo hauh si lovin, he tribal thluak mil tak hian a letling thiam a nih hi!

 

Chu bakah Shakespeare-a ţawngkam, a sap ţawng awmzia ang ni lo, (Linguistic Amplification) anga duh tâwka zalenna inpein, Shakesprare-a thu leh hla chu zau zawk leh fiah zawk tura lehlin pawh a ching hle bawk. Ophel-i’n a pa chungchang a sawina 'How should I, your true love know from another one? By his cockle hat and staff...' tih a lehlin dan hi en teh.

 

‘A suak, a tak rim ka thlei thiam lo, Val zawng sakhmêl pâr leh diar ze ial, Dam tui ang an luang hmun e’ tiin a letling ta a. Hamlet-a thawnthu kha Mizo thawnthu ngaihnawm tak angah chhuahin, Zo ṭawnga thu mal mawi ber ber hmangin a thuam famkim ta emaw tih mai tur zu nia! Hetiang taka letling tur hian, Mizo leh Sap ṭawng thiam êm êm a ngai a. Chu chu hre si lovin tun tlai thangthar rualte’n, zahngaihna nei lek lova sap tawng an han letling thin hi chu, hmuh a hrehawm teh zawng a nih hi!

 

Hamlet-a pa thlarau a rawn inlâr a, Horatio-a’n tu nge a nih inhriattir tura, ‘By heaven, I charge thee, speak’ tia a han biakna hi tun lai ţhangthar rual, You Tube leh film letling ṭhinte chuan, ‘Pathian/Van hmingin thu ka pe a che’ an tih ngei ka ring. Ṭhangtharte'n sap ṭawng leh sap ṭawng lehlinna kan ṭawng an pawngsual dan hi, sawi zau a châkawm hle!

 

JF-a erawh chuan, ‘Van ram hmingin ka chaha che’ a han ti zaih mai a! A lehlin mawizia hi kan zuk hmu thiam mai em? Dam lai mihring an hmachhawn miau loh avangin, mitthi thlarau, zan hnih a zawna rawn inlâr hnena thu han pêk ai chuan, thu han chah zawk kha a awm ngawih ngawih a. Hei ringawt pawh hian JF-a lehlinna mit hi a fiah mai ni lovin, a themthiam tih min hmuhtir thei a nih hi.

 

Marcellus-a vekin Horatio-a hnenah, ‘Good now, sit down and tell me, he that knows…’ tiha ‘he that knows’ tih lai tak JF-a’n, ‘Nang kan thiampuipa hian i theih chuan’ tia a han letlingte hi a fuh ngawih ngawih khawpa, faifûk raih chi a nih hi! Hetianga sap hovin ṭawng tlânglawn tak, nitina kan inbiakna ṭawngkam an hman ṭhin mawi leh dãk thlarha lehlin kawngah, JF-a khân a hun laiin mi pahnih khat bak elpui tham a nei hauh lo ang le!

 

Horatio-a thu sawi JF-a lehlin dan hi ngun takin en ta la, Literal Meaning aia ţawnghmang thiamna leh Cultural Adaptation hmanga, kan hriat thiam theih tur zawnga thu a lehlin dan kan hmu fiah mai awm e. A sap ṭawng tar lan ngei hian, a letlingtu thiamzia a hmuh theih chauh thin. Chuvangin, he lai thu pawh hi sei deuh mah se, I han tar lang hram teh ang.

 

A mote it is to trouble the mind’s eye.

In the most high and palmy state of Rome,

A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,

The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead

Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets

As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,

Disasters in the sun, and the moist star

Upon whose influence Neptune’s empire stands

Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.

And even the like precurse of feared events,

As harbingers preceding still the fates

And prologue to the omen coming on,

Have heaven and earth together demonstrated

Unto our climatures and countrymen.

 

"Chu pawh chu a ni maithei. Hmasâng Rom vanglai Kaisara an phil (thah tih aia phil a hmang hi a fuh teh e!) dawn ţum pawh khan thlante inhawngin (the grave stood tennatless Shakespeare-a ţawngkam thiamzia i hmu em?) thlarauvin kawtthler an fang ţhin an tih kha maw le. Hun râpthlâk a rawn inher dawn meuh hi zawngin, Simeikhu a rawn inlâr a, thi hlirin daite a tla ţhin. Lei hnuai leh thim lal thupekin khawvel tawp hun tur puang tur niawm takin chhak chhuah leh nachang pawh hre lo khawpin awkin ni a lem niin an sawi thin asin. Hun rapthlak lo thleng tur puang lawk turin leh leh van hi an inthurual thin niin an sawi a" tiin a letling ta a.

 

Heti zawng hi JF-a Sap ṭawng leh Zo ṭawng thiamzia tar lanna lo ni ta se. A lehkhabu hrang hranga a thu thiamzia hmuh tur awmte hi, ṭhangtharte'n an rawn buan zel turah i ngai ang. Tichuan, a dam reng lai pawhin, mite'n JF-a kha thu leh hla thiam ber ang maiin an sawi ṭhin a nih kha. Mahse, he a ṭawngkam chheh hian tiril a fán ngaih asin - "Knowing my own limitations, I daily consult, day in and out, in English and Mizo whoever happenns to be near me" tiin, thiam tâwk intihna nei lovin, nitin ṭawng a zir ṭhin thu a sawina hian, JF Laldailova kha pa tlawm tak a ni tih min hriattir.

 

Hmangaih lehkhathawn chu : Zanin ang kum 1980-ah khan J.F. Laldailova'n kum eng emaw ti chhung bang lova lehkha a lo thawn țhin, a ngaihtuahna zatve aia tam mah a hrilh țhin, a lung ti leng a, a, suangtuahna chawh thawhtir țhintu, a hming pawha a koh phal loh, "Ethel" a tih loh leh, "Zarbawih, Zarmam, Darlin, Ka nau hmelțha, Ka nau Zar, Dearest..." tia a koh țhin, Ethel L. Zari (Churachandpur nula) chuan mual a liam a. Zari hriat reng nan leh a pual liau liauin aw zanin chu.

 

"Zari lei taksa chu, a mi ngaihsan leh a ngaih em em, hlate khua ațanga lo zin a, tlawm leh zah pawh dawn zo lova a rawn zawn chhuah hram hram, vawi tam thaikawi palai bawngte pawh a lo tirh ve fo tawh țhinna, J.F. Laldailova leh kal hmasate chawlhna hmun ralmuang pan tur chuan an lo thlah liam ve ta a ni."

- R. Lalrawna

 

Kum 1974, Khuangchawi thla ni 8 zan te khan J.F-a khan Zari lehkha tur a ziak malh malh a, "Vai zingah pawh ka lung hi a lêng thei êm êm mai a, Karnaphuli (Khawthlang tuipui) lo luangte chu, ‘Hetah pawh hian Zoram thlî a tel ve ngei ang,’ ti tein hmai phih nan ka hmang a" a han ti te te a, chutah a la duh tawk mai lo.

 

Zanlaiah khawnvar a chhi êng a, a va ziah chhunzawm leh pawh a ni mahna. Heti hian a'n ti zui leh a, "Krismas chawhnu her, nî-ina tlang pang a chhun tleu te hi ka ngai thiam lo. Tlai ni tla kawl êng te hi hmuh hreh chung chungin ka hmu ning lo. Pawm lai neih leh neih lohva i pawh a ni lo va, zan thla êng tak mai hnuaiah te hian ka muhil hleithei lo va, fianrialah hnahte ka va tum leh ringawt thin. Mi la mu nghet lote pawh an lunglêng ve thei a ni chêk ang chu, "Tûnge ni ta ngai?" ti ni âwm takin tukverhte hi an rawn hawng sap sap țhin asin. Tlangsâm par, hlonuar leh theite parte hi enchet dawl ka ti a, a par mal tê tê pawh hi rei ngial ka bih peih țhin."

 

Ni, tunlai angin zing lama phone dah tauh a, tlai lama inbiak fuh leh nghal a, "Chaw ei khamah ka rawn phei ang," tia, engkim inhrilh a, inbiak zung zung theih a ni ve lo. Zan thla eng hnuaia han lunglen veng veng a, lehkhathawn han ziah mial mial mai chu a nuam dawn hian ka hre țhin.

 

JF Laldailova'n Ethel-i lehkha a thawn tamtak zinga a lar deuh leh, nula tlangvalte tan pawha ngaihnawm, thu thlum leh lungtileng tak tak tlêm hi thur chhuak ang aw.

 

"Nau Zâr, khawvela nangni ang parmawi in lo vul theih hi chuan Pathian awm leh awm loh chu chhiarkawp nena chawhchuah kan tum hi a tul lo. Nang hi a proof ber chu i ni mai."

 

"Hmelthat vâng hrim hrima Van ram kai sa tûra ka lo ngaih lei pangpar mawi, kan khawvel hi a hnawk tehlul nen, nangni ang fa in lo piang ve hlauh mai hi chu thla a muang sawng sawng mai thin. Ral-khat atang pawhin ka nunkhua hi i tinuam hliah hliah thin tih hi hre reng ang che."

 

"Tisa lei leh vâna thilsiam zawng zawng zinga mawi ber tûrah ka chhâl ngam lo che a; mahse nangmah ka hriatchhuah apiang che hian khawvel zawng zawng hi mawi thar ta thut hian ka hre thei thin a, ka mi huat êm êmte chungah lam te pawh hian, rilru ringawt chauh na nâ nâ chuan ka nêm thei thin zuk nia!"

 

"Rilrua i hming (a pum pawh, a phel pawh) han chham a, mitthlâa i hmêl han hmuh leh nghâl hi chuan, Lianchi-a sakhmêl chanve chanve tal puta, mahni kum zât atanga kum 25 ngawt hlawi theih hi a châkawm mai thin."

 

"Khawvel thar leh hunah hmeltha deuh zawka ka lo pian a, nang chu tûna nangmah ang chiah (chhe tê maha danglam chuang lo)-a i lo pian ve leha, kan kum a inthlauh loh chuan, arsi piah lam ramah pawh awm mah la ka rawn zawng chhuak ang che.

 

"Zâri, ka duhsakzia che hi i hre pha tak tak chuang lo vang. Chuvangin tûnah rih chuan mangtha, dam takin rih mai. I thlalâk min rawn thawn thuai loh chuan ka tap thei tak tak ang. Zâmpuii hmêl hmuh maiin min hnêm zo lo. Unau mah ni ula, mi ti vir tham pawh a tling lo.

 

(Ethel-i khan J.F-a thu awihin thlalak chu a han thawn ta a. J.F-a lo chhanlet dan mawlh hi a pui. Amah ti virtu lek an chang zel mai si!)

 

"Hetiang thlalâk mai mai, tah ti-tam, lung ti lêng, bei ti sei, beisei ti bo, rual ti-awt, rual awh ti-na, mumang ti rethei, suangtuahna ti hurtu, vawi khat pian man ti-awm lo - engati nge hetiang tea mi rawn elsêna mi rawn runrâl? - dang ti ro leh chil tipût thlâwn mai mai! Duhawm teh mah se, a tak tak nena ka han khaikhinin, i ti no, i dynamic personality kha a bei tel ve thei tlat lo mai a, he i lemthla hi a tak takina a (i) rawn zui thlen hma chu lung a awi tak tak thei dawn lo."

 

"Tlai a lo ni a, tlai ni a êng tha bawk a, ka hre chhuak leh ta che a, ka lung a lêng leh ta êm êm mai a. I hmêl ka la hmuh tlêma, i thlalâkina mit a fah khawp loh tehlul nên ( I hlimthlâ tê mai hi ka chan tawk), heti khawpa ka han ngai thei ta mai che hi mak ka ti tharin naupang inkhualtelemna khawvela nangma chungchanga day-dreaming ka indulge luattuk vâng a nih ber ka ring a, pa-tar tê tawh si, ka chawh ngawt mai! Chawh tak rawh i!"

 

J.F-a'n a hming pawha a koh phal loh, "Ethel" a tih loh leh "Zar-bawih, Zâr-mam, Little Darling, Ka nau Hmelțha..." tia a koh thin khan, J.F-a liam hnu lawkah min liamsan chawpchilh ve nghal mai bawk si a. An uiawmin an pamhmai dun mang e!

 

Zâri kha a thih hma deuh atang khân a hmêlah danglam deuhna neiin an hria a. Lunglên viauna emaw, thil vei rûk riau emaw nei hi ang an lo ti deuh va. Mahse a hranpaa natna vei nei ta lêm lo chu, hnathawh leh rual kawm a thulh chuang lo va. 1980 May 11-ah pawh a dan pangngaiin office a kal a. Ni danga a office kalpui thin, a thiannu Nl. Krosțani chuan chu mi nia a office lo bãng chu chau êm êm niawm hian a lo hmu a, a ngaih a tha vak lo va. Chak vak lova a hmuh ang ngeiin, chu mi zan atang chuan Zâri chu a chau ta viau mai a. A natna sawi tur pawh hriat mang si loh chuan a chau zual telh telh a, zân dar 12 a pêl hret-ah chuan, lunglen khawharna leh natna reng reng awm tawh lohna hmun chu panin, J.F-a hnungzuiin mual min lo liam san ve ta a ni.

 

Min la dam pui se la âw. He Facebook kal tlang ngei hian biahthu D han inhlan bawk se la, a va nuam dawn tak! An inkoh dan mawlh khi tunlaia induat vak tak tak mang si lo a, "Duat, Boih," intih kual vel ai hian, kei chuan mawi ka ti a, lairil a fan a, a tak ka ti.

 

 

Poetry lamah pawh a duai mawlh lo :

 

“Poetry lama a kuthnu hmuh tur awm rai tawh lo mah se, ‘poet’ ropui biru a ni kan ti lo thei lo vang. Thu-ah hian ‘poetry’ a awm thei a ni tih ngaihdan a nei a, chuvangin a thuchheh reng reng, a vuak, a thlûk, a kah danah te a dak thlarh mai a, a thuchheh hi a inchhawk nghuat nghuat a ni ber e” tiin Mafaa khan JF-a’n poetry lamah pawh a duai lohzia min hrilh a. “A thute hi ‘poetic prose” a tling a ni. St Placid’s school-a a kal laiin poetry inphuahsiakah pawh pakhatna a ni a, an zirtirtu French Canadian-ho chuan a thiam êm avangin ama irâwm chhuak a nih an ring lo hial a, “Mi thiam phuah sa i ‘copy’ chhâwng a ni lo maw?” an ti phah a ni” tiin poetry phuah a thiamzia Mafaa vekin min hrilh leh bawk.

 

Mahse, a hun lai khan Zofate thu leh hla khawvelah poetry khan hmun a chang chau e mem tih hriaiin, thutluang (Prose) khawvel min hrutpui ta zawk niin a ngaih theih. Shakespeare-a lemchan (Drama reng reng hi poetry hmanga ziah chhuah an ni a. Blank Verse hman niin, tlar tinah thu mal lambi 8\10 a awm tlangpui a. Tin, iambic pentameter (da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM), thu mal hmasa zawk lam dan hniam, a hnuhnung zawwk lam dan sanga rem a ni thin. JF-a leh Shakespeare-a lemchan letlingtu tam zawkte hian prose anga an lehlin thin avangin, hla hril lemchan a ni tih a nawlpuiin kan hriat loh phah niin alang. Prof R. Thangvunga chiah hian poetry a nihna angin a let a. Much Ado About Nothing ka lehlin pawh kha a tam thei ang ber hla hril angin, lambi 10 hmangin ka let ve a nih kha.

 

Romeo & Juliet lemchan-a Shakespeare-a poetry mawi ka tih em em chu hei hi a ni –

 

White his shroud as the mountain snow,

Larded all with sweet flowers,

Which bewept to the ground did not go

With true-love showers.

 

He hla hril hi JF-a chuan heti hian min lehlinsak ta a –

 

A bahsam vur anga var,

Fam rolung mual I liam ni khan,

Nemrang puan ka thuch che kha,

Hmangaih mittui leh pangpar,

I thlan khur (a) ka surtir kha!

 

He laia JF-a tawngkam hman atang ringawt pawh hian, poetry lama a thiamna rilzia, thukzia leh tawngkauchhah hman a thiamzia kan hmu thiam lo a nih ngat chuan, keimahni lamah fel lo a awm a ni ngei ang! Hei bakah hian Shakespeare-a poetry heti hian kan hmu leh bawk -

 

 

Quoth she,

“Before you tumbled me,

You promised me to wed.”

He answers,

“So would I ha’ done, by yonder sun,

An thou hadst not come to my bed.”

 

He thu hi mawi em emin JF-a khan heti hian hla hril hmangin min lehlinsak leh a.

 

Zal tura min thlem lai khan,

Run hmun luahpui mi tiam kha,

Thlemsam run lumpui ai chuan,

Biahthu tiam sut ka thlang zawk e.

 

JF-a poetry la hmu ngai miah lo tan pawh, he lai hla hril pahnih a phuah han en hian poetry huanga JF-a chim chin lo sanzia kha hmuhhmaih rual a lo ni lo! Keia lehkha chhiar zau lo lutuk hian, JF-a lehkhabu lehlin dangte kha chhiar alawi ka neih miau loh avangin, JF-a chungchang thu ziah kawngah pawh hmanrua tlakchham ka ngah em em a. Ka neih ve chhun ang ang hmangin, famkim lo takin JF-a ropuizia leh hlutzia ka han tarlang hi, a hming kan ti thangtlam lek zawk ang a tih ngaihtuahna avangin ka tim er er mai a nih hi. A thu leh hla thiamzia, hei aia chiang leh zau zawka thlirna nei thei turin, a lehkhabu lehlinte kha neiin chhiar tur ik nei ilang zawng, hetiang leka pamhmai hian JF-a chungchang thu ka’n tar lang lo tur hi a ni a !

 

 

Here in lies a man of great,

Writ his name in gold!

 

 

Saturday, August 23, 2025

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐘

1. The Ballad of the Restless Heart


He wandered through the silver night,
A dreamer chasing flame,
With stars to guide his silent flight,
Yet none would call his name.


He met the maidens, young and fair,
Their laughter soft as rain,
But when he touched their golden hair,
He only felt the strain.


Their eyes were bright, their words were sweet,
Their songs would fill the air,
But always when his soul would meet,
He found no solace there.


From town to town, from shore to shore,
He searched both high and low,
But though he knocked on every door,
Love would not bid him go.


Each maiden left a gentle trace,
A lesson, or a tune,
He learned of hope, he learned of grace,
Beneath the bitter moon.


And slowly, hope began to fade,
His longing grew less wild,
He wore the peace that time had made—
The calm of sorrow’s child.


Then through the dusk, she came one day,
Not wrapped in silken light,
No tale or prophecy gave way,
Just truth, both fierce and right.


She was no girl of painted gleam,
No song the bards would weave,n
But in her eyes, he saw a dream
He never wished to leave.


They met, they touched, and something stirred,
A silence broke inside.
No hollow echo, no lost word—
At last, the tide had died.


But love, alas, is not always kind,
Nor meant for all to keep,
She vanished, left no trace behind,
And left him there to weep.


He does not roam, he does not cry,
He sings no more of fate.
He kissed the stars and touched the sky—
And learned it came too late.


Now by the fire, he speaks no vow,
No tale he’ll ever tell.
He searched, he loved, he lost—and now,
He knows that all is well.8


2. The Searcher’s Promise


He wandered far in nights of gold,
In dreams of love, in stories told,
Where moonlight danced on hopeful eyes—
He chased a flame across the skies.

Through years and hearts, he sought in vain,
Each touch a balm, each kiss a strain.
Bright maidens laughed, their spirits free,
Yet none could calm his restless sea.

For every smile, he found a crack,
A hollow place that smiled back.
He learned their songs, their joys, their fears,
And filled his soul with borrowed years.

Till hope grew faint, and dreams grew still,
No longer bent to fate or will.
He wore his scars like quiet art,
And tucked away his seeking heart.

But then—no herald, no fanfare—
She came with light and heavy care.
No maiden wrapped in fairy lore,
But more than all he’d dreamed before.

With her, the silence softly broke,
The void inside no longer spoke.
He touched her hand and knew the truth:
His soul had found its long-lost youth.

Yet love, so rare, can vanish fast,
A comet’s flare not meant to last.
She slipped away—no fault, no war—
And left him full, but aching more.

He weeps no more, nor dares to yearn,
He’s kissed the sun, and felt it burn.
His vow is carved in midnight's shore:
He'll seek no more. He'll love no more.

The Silence After You
(Miltonic Sonnet ABBAABBA CDECDE)

Where are you now, whose voice once calmed my storm,
Whose presence turned the darkest hours to light?
With you, the cruelest day would feel so right,
And pain, in shared embrace, would lose its form.
We spoke of all—our wounds, our hearts still warm
With hope, despite the endless, mounting night.
But now you're gone, and all I've known takes flight,
This hollow life no longer holds its norm.

My soul, my breath, my blood all ache for you—
You came like dew, like smoke, like lightning's gleam,
Then vanished, leaving echoes in your place.
I search the stars, the dawn, the evening blue,
To find some trace of you within the dream,
But only sorrow fills your sacred space.

Where Are You Now (Spenserian Sonnet)

Where are you now, whose voice once lit my skies? (A)
Not one day passes without whispered plea. (B)
With you, the hours soared like swallows’ cries, (A)
Then vanished deep within eternity. (B)
We bared our wounds, our truths no mask could hide, (C)
In pain and love, we carved our sacred space. (B)
But now I walk alone where dreams have died, (C)
Each step a void, each breath your ghost’s embrace. (D)

My soul, my veins, my heart, all cry for you, (C)
Your absence breaks the stars and dims my flame. (D)
You came like dawn, then vanished like the dew, (E)
A fleeting spark no time could ever tame. (E)

Echoes of You (Ottava Rima)

Where are you now, when silence haunts the air? (A)
Not one day passes without thoughts of you. (B)
With you, time vanished, light as whispered prayer, (A)
And every hour in love and sorrow flew. (B)
We shared our truths, our wounds too raw to bear, (A)
In every tear, our bond was forged anew. (B)
But now you're gone, and all that's left is pain— (C)
An empty heart that calls your name in vain. (C)

.A Whisper Through the Veil
(Romanticism form of poetry)

You came like starlight breaking through the mist,
A fleeting gleam where shadows learned to weep.
Your hand in mine—a moment heaven kissed,
Then vanished like a dream I could not keep.

We spoke in sighs where silent hearts confide,
Beneath the willow’s hush, by moonlight's grace.
Each tear we shed became the ocean’s tide,
Each smile—a rose that time could not erase.

But now I walk where once your laughter lay,
The world grown hollow in your soft farewell.
No dawn can chase the mournful night away,
Nor winds erase the love I’ll always spell.

Yet still I wait where broken angels dwell,
To touch your soul beyond this mortal shell.

Where Are You?

(Terza Rima Form)

Where are you now, my soul's eternal flame? (A)
Not one day passes without calling you, (B)
And still the silence answers with your name. (A)

With you, the fleeting hours swiftly flew— (B)
We shared our scars, the pain, the deep despair, (C)
In every wound, our bond was born anew. (B)

You held my heart with such devoted care, (C)
Yet now you've gone, and left this hollow shell. (D)
The void you left is more than I can bear. (C)

My soul, my veins, my spirit cannot quell (D)
The aching pull of where your shadow lies— (E)
A quiet grief no spoken words can tell. (D)

You came like dew beneath the morning skies, (E)
Like smoke that fades, like lightning’s sudden gleam— (F)
A fleeting wonder lost before goodbyes. (E)

I miss you so—my world has lost its dream, (F)
And every breath I take now breaks the seam. (F)

If Ever

If ever you, even once,
Could possess the sentiment to feel—
Not just mimic warmth,
Not just echo words—
But bleed a truth that's real.

I have waited in the shadows
Of your silence,
Where love goes unheard,
And I have whispered all my storms
Into your stillness—
Without a single word returned.

If ever your heart could tremble
For something more than pride,
Maybe then you’d understand
The ache I’ve learned to hide.

But hope is a quiet traitor—
It stays,
Even when you don’t.
And I keep wishing for a spark
In a soul that feels like stone.

Come Back to Me"

Why did I find you, only to break?
Why did fate give just to take?
You were the light that touched my sky—
Now I'm left to wonder why.

I'm a barren tree in endless sand,
No shade to give, no loving hand.
A ship adrift with no one near,
No compass now, just tide and fear.

You lie in silence, locked in pain,
While I reach out, again, again.
But the world gives back no sound,
Only grief that's tightly wound.

You warned me once, and still I stayed,
Now all I do is kneel and pray.
If I could take your hurt and bear
Every breath, I’d meet you there.

Don't leave me here with shattered time,
With half-spun dreams and aching rhyme.
I need your voice, your eyes, your fire—
Without your love, there's no desire.

So come back to me, don’t let go,
I need your warmth, your soul to know.
Not just a memory, not a dream—
But you, alive, in love’s great stream.

Please, my love, just stay, just be—
For I don’t know how to live...
without you next to me.

"The Silence Between Us"

How many more days will you stay so still,
While my heart pounds loud against my will?
Once you were breath, a soft, warm light—
Now you're a shadow just out of sight.

You warned me gently, voice like rain,
That love like this might carry pain.
Four months gone, and still it grows—
Your silence is all my spirit knows.

You're lying where no words can reach,
Beyond the comfort of my speech.
I call your name into the night,
But echoes answer, dim with fright.

I miss the way you spoke my name,
Now the world just doesn’t sound the same.
I feel like a house stripped of flame—
Cold and hollow, none to blame.

How do I erase your eyes, your grace,
When every dream replays your face?
How can I walk and breathe and be,
When half my soul is lost at sea?

But love like yours—it doesn’t die.
It lingers, silent, in the sky.
So I’ll carry you, though I fall apart,
A quiet fire inside my heart.

When Silence Spoke Her Name

She told me once, with trembling grace,
“There’ll come a time I can’t keep pace—
My voice may fade, my light may dim,
But in the quiet, think of him.”

And now that time has come to pass,
She lies behind cold sheets of glass.
ICU walls, machines that hum,
And I am numb. And I am numb.

Four months of fight carved through her skin,
While I held on through thick and thin.
She warned me once, and now I see—
The silence isn't empty. It’s her and me.

She said: “When I can speak again,
I’ll flood your world like summer rain.”
But now her lips are still and tight,
And I’m just chasing ghosts at night.

I ache for her in every breath,
Afraid of time, afraid of death.
I don't know if she’s slipping through,
But every moment feels so blue.

I miss her laugh, her stubborn fire,
The way she'd burn with soft desire—
To live, to love, to talk to me,
As if our bond could set her free.

Now all I want is just to know—
One sign, one spark, before she goes.
But if she must go where I can't be,
Let her carry this piece of me:

My aching soul, my whispered prayers,
The vows we dreamed, the love we shared.
And if her silence takes the stage—
I’ll wait. I’ll wait beyond the cage.

Because love like this can’t end in pain.
She will come back. She’ll speak again.
In wind, in dreams, in skies that burn—
And tell me, “Wait. I will return.”

Friday, August 22, 2025

𝐀 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐚 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐚'𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐡 𝐤𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐦 𝐚 !



      Nimin kha ka nu thih reng phâk a lo ni ve leh ta reng mai. A û leh nau, kan chhûngkuain a pualin hun kan hmang a. Kei erawh nilengin pindanah ka tawmim thung.

      Chhûngte rual pawhin chawhlui ka kil ve lo. Ka peih lo a, ka châk hlawl lo a ni ber. Ka nu kha ka ngai êm êm a, tunah ka nuna hun harsa ber ka tawh lai takte hian, ka nu kha ka mamawh ngawih mgawih a ni si a.

       Tichuan, phungrual an ṭin a, min hawnsan ta diak hlawm a. Mahniin chaw ka va ei zuai a, khumah ka mu zui leh nghal char char mai. Tichuan, ka nu khân min la hre rengin min theihnghilh lo tih hriat nân, chiang êm êmin mang lamah kan inkawm ta hlauh mai.

       Engti rei nge mang ramah ka nu nen kan inhmuh lohna chin pawh ka hre tawh lo. Mahse, Pathianin zah a ngaiin a khawngaihna ka chungahba lantir a. Ṭum dang zawng aia chiang, fiah zawk leh rei zawkin ka nu nen, mang rama inkhawm min phalsak ta hlauh a nih kha.

      Ka nu kha ka ngai êm êm a. Ka dam chhûng huntawnga hun khirhkhan ber mai leh, tawrh thiam har ber mai harsatna ka tawh mek lai hian, ka nu ka mamawhna hi a zual êm êm a ni!

      Hnemtu leh thlamuantu ka mamawh ngawih ngawih a. Min ṭawng thlamuanin min ṭawmgṭaisak ṭhin se tihte ka duh êm êm. Ka nu ka chân kha a dinhmun ka hriat chian êm avangin, min kalsan ta mai kha ka tuar thiam hle.
     
        Mahse, amah tluk bawka ka hmangaih, thihnain nitin a han buan takah hian nun ka thiam thei ngang lo a ni. Awmdan tur mawihnai lah ka zawng thiam hek lo. Ka hmangaih chân hlauhnain nitin hun ka hmang liam ṭhin a.
     
        A hrehawm nge a nuam zawk pawh ka hre thiam lo. Tuna ka huntawn meka ka chhûngril nun min hriat thiampuitu pakhatmah, Pathian chauh lo chu ka nei miah lo. Ka vanduai nge ka vannei tih pawh ka inhre thiam thei lo a nih hi. 
      
       Eng pawh ni se, Lalpa nizan lamah ka nu nen dam lai ang maia hun min hman duntir avangin, Lalpa i chungah ka thinlung takin lawmthu ka sawi mawlh mawlh a. Tuna ka hmangaih dam lo mek, ni 20 aia rei biak theih tawh loh erawh, Lalpa khawngaih takin min laksak tawh lo hram ang che aw.

Friday, August 8, 2025

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 0r 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲 - 𝐈𝐈

 




1. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫

She’s not a storm that begs for taming,
Nor fire wild, nor heart inflamed—
She’s a quiet song the soul remembers,
A softer love the world misnamed.
She walks where stillness holds the air,
Where morning dew and silence meet.
She finds her joy in candle’s flicker,
In handwritten notes and steady feet.
She longs for doors held not by habit,
But hands that know what caring means,
For “darlin’” said in quiet moments,
And love that lingers in the seams.
She dreams of warmth in smallest gestures—
A coat held out, a car warmed slow.
A towel soft, a bath drawn waiting,
Where simple care is love on show.
She doesn't ask for stars to fall,
Or diamond rings to crown her hand;
She asks for hearts that show up daily,
For love that takes the time to stand.
She wants a home built not of walls,
But laughter shared and dinners tried.
Of backyard skies and blanket evenings,
With fingers locked and hopes implied.
She’s weathered storms, been left in silence,
Watched promises dissolve like mist.
Yet still she holds a hope unshaken—
That love, once true, still can exist.
So if you meet a soul so tender,
Don’t rush or try to cage her flame.
Just match her step, and love with meaning,
And whisper softly her sweet name.
For she’s not asking for perfection,
Not castles high or winds that bend—
Just effort, grace, and old-time loving,
The kind that stays until the end.

2. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐞 (𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭)

Thou art my love from some far distant land,
A dream so rare it scarcely touches life;
Yet still, with all my soul, Ti Amo stand—
My vow remains through joy, through storm and strife.
Thou art the fragrance of the orchid bloom,
The scent of cactus flowers in the air,
The incense rising in a twilight gloom,
A forest wet with rain and rich with care.
At dusk I dream, and thoughts of thee return,
Through haze of masks and memories long past;
A memento where forbidden passions burn,
A love too deep, too sacred, still to last.
Yet in thy smile, in song, I see the bliss—
The truest joy sealed in a single kiss.

3. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭

He gave his all, with heart both pure and wide,
Each breath he spent, he offered in her name.
No selfish wish did in his soul abide,
But quiet deeds that bore love’s sacred flame.
Yet comes a day when questions pierce the core—
"Did you love true? Did effort lie in vain?"
And though he weeps behind a bolted door,
He yields, not out of hate, but out of pain.
For love, when weighed and doubted, starts to die;
Not from neglect, but from a scornful gaze.
What once soared freely now must learn to lie,
Chained not by choice, but by love’s final phase.
So let him go—not loveless, but unseen,
His heart still full, though broken in between.

4. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐜 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧

He gave his soul where love had made its claim,
With every beat, his heart knelt at her feet.
But questions came, like winds that scorch a flame,
And turned his warmth to sorrow and retreat.
Not once he faltered in his quiet vow,
His acts were pure, his hands were free of pride.
Yet when she asked, “What have you done till now?”
He let love go, though tears he could not hide.
Not out of spite, nor lack of love’s desire,
But for his love no longer found its place.
Unseen, unpraised, unworthy to inspire,
He walked away with silent, aching grace.
So judge him not, who leaves with heart still true—
A man unloved must bid his love adieu.

5. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝

She's like a wild horse, fierce and free,
Storm in her heart, no reigns from me.
She kicks, she runs, she breaks my peace,
Yet in her chaos, I find release.
She drives me mad, she makes me burn,
Each loving step, a twist, a turn.
Again she strikes, again I fall—
Love has no mercy, no rules at all.
True love, they say, should bring you light,
But mine is forged in storm and night.
It hurts, it heals, it drives me wild,
Yet in her gaze—I’m still beguiled.
I’d rather bleed than let her go,
Though madness follows where winds blow.
For in her fire, I feel alive—
Love’s cruel storm, where hearts survive.

6. 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐨!

The one I love lies chained in pain,
Affliction wraps her like a chain.
Without a spark of healing light,
Will she be lost into the night?
O heavenly host, look at her face,
Your precious child, once crowned with grace.
You spoke her worth with radiant pride,
Do you not walk now by her side?
Like shadows clinging close to grief,
Do you not guard her soul’s belief?
Her face, once bright, now veiled by strife—
I cannot bear this fragile life.
Her lover's tears, like rivers, flow,
For pain has struck her beauty low.
I cannot watch; I break apart—
My love is hurting—breaks my heart!
O Lord of mercy, strong yet kind,
Who tends the weak, the lost, the blind—
If ever love has touched Your throne,
Please let her not be left alone.
On Earth, true love is rare and deep—
It lifts the faint, it wakes the weak.
Let love reach out, let mercy be—
And bring her safely back to me.

7. 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐞

What storms I've weathered, what roads I've tread,
With bleeding feet and dreams half-dead,
The rain, the sun, the bitter cold—
I stood my ground, I did not fold.
Each trial carved me, made me whole,
Each loss a scar upon my soul.
But still I rose, still I could cope,
Fueled by love and stubborn hope.
Yet now you lie in silent sleep,
A depth too vast, a pain too deep.
Your breath is soft, your eyes are closed,
And time has never moved so slow.
Without your voice, the world is dim,
Each second drips on sorrow’s brim.
My heart, once fire, now just ash,
My days dissolve, my nights collapse.
I’ve battled fate, I’ve wrestled fear,
But nothing prepared me for this tear.
This aching hole, this silent room—
Your absence weaves a heavy gloom.
So hear me now, through dreams or skies,
Wherever your sweet spirit lies—
Come back to me, defy the night,
Be my dawn, my guiding light.
I miss you more than words can say,
I need you more with every day.
And if you're lost, just follow me—
I'll fight the dark until you're free.

8. 𝐈𝐟 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥

(O My Saparan, My One and Only Love)

She lies in stillness, pale and worn,
Five months the battle she has borne.
Unconscious now, yet brave within,
A silent war she fights again.
My love, my life, my sleeping grace,
The sorrow carved upon her face—
I’d trade my breath, my every part,
To ease the ache that breaks her heart.
If only love had power to mend,
To bring this nightmare to an end.
She’d rise again, like morning light
That chases back the longest night.
I call her name—no voice replies,
Only the hum of machines and sighs.
I speak, I shout, but she can’t hear,
Still I stay close, forever near.
O Lord above, hear my soul’s cry,
Don’t let her fade, don’t let her die.
If justice lives in heaven’s will,
Then take my strength, my life, my fill.
Let me bear the cruel disease,
Let her know the gift of peace.
She deserves the joy, the dawn,
Not this cruel and aching yawn.
From her eyes, the teardrops flow,
Her lips can only whisper woe.
Her body, perfect, wracked with pain,
Her spirit caught in heavy chains.
Why her, O Lord? Why must she fall?
Why let this sorrow touch us all?
If my love could mend her soul,
She’d rise again, alive and whole.
So hear me now, my final plea—
If fate must choose, then choose me.
But let her wake and let her see
The world she paints so tenderly.
And if love truly holds a cure,
Then let my love be strong and pure.
And by its grace, and by its light,
Let her awaken from this night.

9. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭 - 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Let none condemn me when I speak her name,
An angel clad in mortal form is she.
Say not I boast, nor call my praise a shame—
Her worth exceeds what eyes on earth can see.
I've walked through life and met both young and old,
The rich in charm, the fair of every kind.
Yet none possessed a heart so pure, so bold,
So vast in soul, so noble in her mind.
She’s gentler than the dove in twilight skies,
And redder than the burning ember's glow.
More wise than sages, with discerning eyes,
More strong in love than heroes long ago.
Her beauty lives where truth and wonder meet—
To know her grace, one must her gaze complete.

10. 𝐓𝐨 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞

Let no man scoff, nor voice disdain,
When I proclaim with love unfeigned:
An angel walks this earthly place—
To know her worth, see face to face.
Say not I boast, nor praise too high,
When truth alone lifts up my cry.
For through life's path I've wandered far,
Met dames of grace, both near and far—
The young, the old, the rich, the fair,
With wit and charm beyond compare.
Yet none could match her soul so wide,
So gentle, fierce, and dignified.
She’s fair and square, with heart aglow,
A richer life than wealth can show.
More tender than the morning dove,
More burning bright than coals of love.
She shames the goddess Venus’ grace,
Outshines the stars in heaven's face.
More wise than sages ever dreamed,
More virtuous than Hercules deemed.
Her will stands firm, her spirit high,
Like northern stars that guide the sky.
No beauty known in lore or art
Can match the fire she holds in heart.
Her eyes—like dawn—break through the gloom,
Her face could make the roses bloom.
Her form, her voice, her every part,
Are sculpted deep into my heart.
So let no tongue my words undo—
To see her, friend, you must see too.
No portrait drawn nor tale retold
Could match the vision I behold.

11. 𝐑𝐡𝐲𝐦𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞

A man seeks more than beauty in her face,
He yearns for wisdom deep, a soul that's true.
She walks with grace, adorned in holy grace,
If not, how could I bow in love and view
Her heart as shrine, and every breath renew?
She must be pure, yet kind with gentle fire—
Such is the woman whom my dreams desire.
She must be fair, or how could I adore,
The morning light within her tender eyes?
If cold or cruel, I’d fear to ask for more,
But gentleness invites where passion lies.
And in respect, my reverence shall rise,
For if she stands a noble soul and wise,
In her, my worship and my comfort ties.
Compassion crowns her brow like golden flame,
Her wisdom speaks in silence, calm and still.
Not just a muse, she lives beyond a name,
With strength to love and even more to heal.
No other heart could hold such pure goodwill.
In her, all virtues live and softly blend—
And so, I love her true, unto the end.

12. 𝐓𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧 (𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐜 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧)

I saw the light within thy gentle eyes,
More bright than all the stars that grace the skies.
Thy laugh, a song the angels long to hear,
It lifts my soul and draws my spirit near.
Affection flows from every word you say,
A warmth that melts the coldest doubts away.
Thy form, divine, a masterpiece so rare,
No sculptor’s hand could craft a shape so fair.
But what made all my world stand still and true,
Was when you said, “My first love, it is you.”
No throne or crown could tempt my heart to stray—
For I have found my joy in you each day.
Let kingdoms fall, let riches turn to dust,
I’d choose your love, for love like yours is just.
My dearest Saparan, you are my light,
My dream, my life, my star that burns so bright.

13. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭: 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥

How came an angel, robed in light and grace,
To see in me what I could never see?
A heart unworthy, in so lowly place,
Yet blessed by love as deep as any sea.
Thy gaze, a balm that heals my doubting soul,
Thy voice, a hymn that stirs the stars above.
In thee, my world is made complete and whole—
A fairy queen, yet filled with mortal love.
Were I to choose 'twixt treasures vast and thee,
I'd cast aside all gold and jeweled throne.
For richer far am I, with love so free,
Than kings who rule, but cold and all alone.
So let them marvel, let the world not see—
How heaven stooped, and gave its heart to me.

14. 𝐈𝐟 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲

He lived behind invisible bars,
Chasing meaning among the stars—
In pages turned, in cheers and race,
In fleeting glimpses of a place
Where purpose bloomed, and hearts stood tall—
But each pursuit would always fall.
The world applauded; he wore the mask,
Excelled in every given task.
Yet in his chest, a hollow drum
Beat softly to a song unsung.
He aged with wisdom, pride, and ache—
A soul adrift, a heart opaque.
Then came her—a tender light,
Soft as dawn, yet burning bright.
She spoke, and suddenly he knew
What all his years had failed to do.
She was the warmth he never felt,
The place where all his armor melted.
But rusted hands can’t hold a rose—
He fumbled love he should’ve chose.
Too long alone, he lost the art
Of how to tend a blooming heart.
He stumbled, failed, and couldn’t see
That love requires humility.
Now silence sleeps where laughter lay,
She’s gone—his light, his guiding day.
He sits with ghosts and memories,
A sailor mourning vanished seas.
His flame burns low, the night grows near,
He whispers truths she’ll never hear.
“If only,” carves his final breath—
A love too late, a life in debt.

15. 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬

Her face is like a woman’s perfect grace,
By Nature’s hand designed to be so fair;
With delicate lines and soft features traced,
Yet born to wear a woman’s proud form and stare.
    
In her bright eyes, true virtue shines so clear,
Reflecting joy more bright than women’s gaze;
Her beauty shames the loveliest of them all,
And stirs desire with every glance she lays.
No age nor season can her looks erode,
No earthly hand can mar her polished mold;
Others may fade though charm they once bestowed,
She blooms afresh each day like spring made bold.
Her soul and nature, both so rich and rare,
Shift not like fleeting moods or shallow hearts;
None can possess her fully, none can dare—
She is not dulled by common lover's arts.
With purity and deep majestic grace,
Her spirit shines through every thoughtful glance;
As if she were the finest form God shaped,
A sight too pure for fortune or by chance.
To women, a rival; to men, a dream—
Yet none may wholly claim or hold her fast;
Though I love her, her strength is not for me,
Still Nature builds her beauty to outlast.
No other love could ever match this fire,
Whom God adorned with love’s eternal breath

16. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

He wandered through the silver night,
A dreamer chasing flame,
With stars to guide his silent flight,
Yet none would call his name.
He met the maidens, young and fair,
Their laughter soft as rain,
But when he touched their golden hair,
He only felt the strain.
Their eyes were bright, their words were sweet,
Their songs would fill the air,
But always when his soul would meet,
He found no solace there.
From town to town, from shore to shore,
He searched both high and low,
But though he knocked on every door,
Love would not bid him go.
Each maiden left a gentle trace,
A lesson, or a tune,
He learned of hope, he learned of grace,
Beneath the bitter moon.
And slowly, hope began to fade,
His longing grew less wild,
He wore the peace that time had made—
The calm of sorrow’s child.
Then through the dusk, she came one day,
Not wrapped in silken light,
No tale or prophecy gave way,
Just truth, both fierce and right.
She was no girl of painted gleam,
No song the bards would weave,
But in her eyes, he saw a dream
He never wished to leave.
They met, they touched, and something stirred,
A silence broke inside.
No hollow echo, no lost word—
At last, the tide had died.
But love, alas, is not always kind,
Nor meant for all to keep,
She vanished, left no trace behind,
And left him there to weep.
He does not roam, he does not cry,
He sings no more of fate.
He kissed the stars and touched the sky—
And learned it came too late.
Now by the fire, he speaks no vow,
No tale he’ll ever tell.
He searched, he loved, he lost—and now,
He knows that all is well.

17. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞

He wandered far in nights of gold,
In dreams of love, in stories told,
Where moonlight danced on hopeful eyes—
He chased a flame across the skies.
Through years and hearts, he sought in vain,
Each touch a balm, each kiss a strain.
Bright maidens laughed, their spirits free,
Yet none could calm his restless sea.
For every smile, he found a crack,
A hollow place that smiled back.
He learned their songs, their joys, their fears,
And filled his soul with borrowed years.
Till hope grew faint, and dreams grew still,
No longer bent to fate or will.
He wore his scars like quiet art,
And tucked away his seeking heart.
But then—no herald, no fanfare—
She came with light and heavy care.
No maiden wrapped in fairy lore,
But more than all he’d dreamed before.
With her, the silence softly broke,
The void inside no longer spoke.
He touched her hand and knew the truth:
His soul had found its long-lost youth.
Yet love, so rare, can vanish fast,
A comet’s flare not meant to last.
She slipped away—no fault, no war—
And left him full, but aching more.
He weeps no more, nor dares to yearn,
He’s kissed the sun, and felt it burn.
His vow is carved in midnight's shore:
He'll seek no more. He'll love no more.

18. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

(Miltonic Sonnet
ABBAABBA CDECDE)

Where are you now, whose voice once calmed my storm,
Whose presence turned the darkest hours to light?
With you, the cruelest day would feel so right,
And pain, in shared embrace, would lose its form.
We spoke of all—our wounds, our hearts still warm
With hope, despite the endless, mounting night.
But now you're gone, and all I've known takes flight,
This hollow life no longer holds its norm.
My soul, my breath, my blood all ache for you—
You came like dew, like smoke, like lightning's gleam,
Then vanished, leaving echoes in your place.
I search the stars, the dawn, the evening blue,
To find some trace of you within the dream,
But only sorrow fills your sacred space.

19. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐍𝐨𝐰 ?

(Spenserian Sonnet)

Where are you now, whose voice once lit my skies?
Not one day passes without whispered plea.
With you, the hours soared like swallows’ cries,
Then vanished deep within eternity.
We bared our wounds, our truths no mask could hide,
In pain and love, we carved our sacred space.
But now I walk alone where dreams have died,
Each step a void, each breath your ghost’s embrace.
My soul, my veins, my heart, all cry for you,
Your absence breaks the stars and dims my flame.
You came like dawn, then vanished like the dew,
A fleeting spark no time could ever tame.

20. 𝐄𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 

(Ottava Rima)

Where are you now, when silence haunts the air?
Not one day passes without thoughts of you.
With you, time vanished, light as whispered prayer, 
And every hour in love and sorrow flew.
We shared our truths, our wounds too raw to bear,
In every tear, our bond was forged anew.
But now you're gone, and all that's left is pain—
An empty heart that calls your name in vain.

21. 𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥

(Romanticism form of poetry)
You came like starlight breaking through the mist,
A fleeting gleam where shadows learned to weep.
Your hand in mine—a moment heaven kissed,
Then vanished like a dream I could not keep.
We spoke in sighs where silent hearts confide,
Beneath the willow’s hush, by moonlight's grace.
Each tear we shed became the ocean’s tide,
Each smile—a rose that time could not erase.
But now I walk where once your laughter lay,
The world grown hollow in your soft farewell.
No dawn can chase the mournful night away,
Nor winds erase the love I’ll always spell.
Yet still I wait where broken angels dwell,
To touch your soul beyond this mortal shell.

22. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮?

(Terza Rima Form)

Where are you now, my soul's eternal flame?
Not one day passes without calling you,
And still the silence answers with your name.
With you, the fleeting hours swiftly flew—
We shared our scars, the pain, the deep despair,
In every wound, our bond was born anew.
You held my heart with such devoted care,
Yet now you've gone, and left this hollow shell.
The void you left is more than I can bear.
My soul, my veins, my spirit cannot quell,
The aching pull of where your shadow lies—
A quiet grief no spoken words can tell.
You came like dew beneath the morning skies, 
Like smoke that fades, like lightning’s sudden gleam—
A fleeting wonder lost before goodbyes.
I miss you so—my world has lost its dream,
And every breath I take now breaks the seam.

23. 𝐈𝐟 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫

If ever you, even once,
Could possess the sentiment to feel—
Not just mimic warmth,
Not just echo words—
But bleed a truth that's real.
I have waited in the shadows
Of your silence,
Where love goes unheard,
And I have whispered all my storms
Into your stillness—
Without a single word returned.
If ever your heart could tremble
For something more than pride,
Maybe then you’d understand
The ache I’ve learned to hide.
But hope is a quiet traitor—
It stays,
Even when you don’t.
And I keep wishing for a spark
In a soul that feels like stone.

24. 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐞

Why did I find you, only to break?
Why did fate give just to take?
You were the light that touched my sky—
Now I'm left to wonder why.
I'm a barren tree in endless sand,
No shade to give, no loving hand.
A ship adrift with no one near,
No compass now, just tide and fear.
You lie in silence, locked in pain,
While I reach out, again, again.
But the world gives back no sound,
Only grief that's tightly wound.
You warned me once, and still I stayed,
Now all I do is kneel and pray.
If I could take your hurt and bear
Every breath, I’d meet you there.
Don't leave me here with shattered time,
With half-spun dreams and aching rhyme.
I need your voice, your eyes, your fire—
Without your love, there's no desire.
So come back to me, don’t let go,
I need your warmth, your soul to know.
Not just a memory, not a dream—
But you, alive, in love’s great stream.
Please, my love, just stay, just be—
For I don’t know how to live...
without you next to me.

25. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐬

How many more days will you stay so still,
While my heart pounds loud against my will?
Once you were breath, a soft, warm light—
Now you're a shadow just out of sight.
You warned me gently, voice like rain,
That love like this might carry pain.
Four months gone, and still it grows—
Your silence is all my spirit knows.
You're lying where no words can reach,
Beyond the comfort of my speech.
I call your name into the night,
But echoes answer, dim with fright.
I miss the way you spoke my name,
Now the world just doesn’t sound the same.
I feel like a house stripped of flame—
Cold and hollow, none to blame.
How do I erase your eyes, your grace,
When every dream replays your face?
How can I walk and breathe and be,
When half my soul is lost at sea?
But love like yours—it doesn’t die.
It lingers, silent, in the sky.
So I’ll carry you, though I fall apart,
A quiet fire inside my heart.

26. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 

She told me once, with trembling grace,
“There’ll come a time I can’t keep pace—
My voice may fade, my light may dim,
But in the quiet, think of him.”
And now that time has come to pass,
She lies behind cold sheets of glass.
ICU walls, machines that hum,
And I am numb. And I am numb.
Four months of fight carved through her skin,
While I held on through thick and thin.
She warned me once, and now I see—
The silence isn't empty. It’s her and me.
She said: “When I can speak again,
I’ll flood your world like summer rain.”
But now her lips are still and tight,
And I’m just chasing ghosts at night.
I ache for her in every breath,
Afraid of time, afraid of death.
I don't know if she’s slipping through,
But every moment feels so blue.
I miss her laugh, her stubborn fire,
The way she'd burn with soft desire—
To live, to love, to talk to me,
As if our bond could set her free.
Now all I want is just to know—
One sign, one spark, before she goes.
But if she must go where I can't be,
Let her carry this piece of me:
My aching soul, my whispered prayers,
The vows we dreamed, the love we shared.
And if her silence takes the stage—
I’ll wait. I’ll wait beyond the cage.
Because love like this can’t end in pain.
She will come back. She’ll speak again.
In wind, in dreams, in skies that burn—
And tell me, “Wait. I will return.”

A sakhming Joseph Francis Laldailova kha !

‘What needs my Shakespeare for his honour’d bones, The labour of an age in piled Stones, Or that his hallow’d reliques should be hid, ...