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Mark
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OK Mark now im sad...she cannot even spell !!! omit the typos and be HAPPY
Mark...it tis hard to make a comment on tghis discussion.........being Irish we are all normally a happy sort.. but giuve me a reason to be sad and I'LL sort it out !!!
Profile Information
- Hometown:
- Porsgrunn
- Relationship Status:
- Engaged
- About Me:
- I,m belong to telemark, you can say I born and rise up between River ,sea ,forest,mountain and hills,and snow.
- Favorite Music:
- All irish music and heavy metal Matlaging, Museer/gallerier, Friidrett, Musikk - all slags, Musikk – dance/elektronisk, Musikk – Blues/jazz
- Currently Reading? (Books Magazines etc)
- every kind of book which give knowlege
- Favourite Place?
- Bergen. and all universal
This lifeless heart --
This lifeless heart --
Your love gave life to this lifeless heart.
Then that very love of yours laid waste to it.
From this battered heart arises a heavy sigh:
I am punished for loving you; what sin did I commit to deserve this?
In my love for you, I was utterly destroyed.
Love is so strange: a few moments of happiness,
then a treasure trove of sorrow and loneliness.
Sometimes tears, sometimes sighs, sometimes reproaches, sometimes moans.
Your face appears before me;
Your face appears in the brightness of day and memories of you torment me.
Memories of you torment me in the darkness of night; your face appears before me.
From this agitated heart arises a heavy sigh:
I am punished for loving you; what sin did I commit to deserve this?
I was utterly destroyed;
I was utterly destroyed by my love for you.
If I meet God, I will ask him: God,
Having given me a body of clay, why did you make my heart with glass?
And on top of that, you put it in my nature to love!
How marvelous, your creation!
How marvelous, God, that above and beyond that, you granted a fate not only of meeting, but also of parting!
Sometimes we meet, sometimes we separate, is this the love you intended?
How marvelous is your handiwork!
A sigh arises from this griefstricken heart;
I am punished for loving you; what sin did I commit to deserve this?
I was utterly destroyed;
I was utterly destroyed by my love for you.
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Comment Wall (20 comments)
- At 4:21pm on November 10, 2009,
Miss O Connor said…
- Hi, how are you, good music on the blog ....bye
- At 10:47pm on October 28, 2009,
Mark said…
- At 10:11pm on October 28, 2009,
Mark said…
- At 10:49am on October 27, 2009,
Miss O Connor said…
Hi how are you !
- At 6:19am on March 28, 2009,
Mark said…
- At 6:37am on March 27, 2009,
Mark said…
- (your eyes touch me)
(my heart has lost control)
(love is eternal in life)
(when your eyes touched me, I found light)
(when your soul touched me I found life)
(why does a candle have the desire to melt)
(why does a moth have the desire to burn)
(life is the test of these desires)
(life pardons those who love)
(the story of their love does not end with their death)
(how can one live... without love)
(there is no human being who is empty of love)
(every soul is thirsty for it, every heart goes mad for it)
(wherever there is love, there is life)
(without love there is no life)
- At 11:26pm on March 26, 2009,
Mark said…
- I've lived my whole life in your name,sweethearthoney
in your name...
I love you sososososo much; you are my love,
sweetheart.
Honey, what state has your love brought me to?
Even flower gardens now seem desolate.
All of my loved ones now seem to me like strangers.
I remain lost in thoughts of you.
People call me crazy, mad.
Without you...
it's impossible to pass this life, sweetheart,
the length of life, my love.
Don't abandon this love...
Don't break the bonds of passion.
Darling, what state has your love brought me to?
Through the flood of tears streaming from my eyes,
I saw you in the moon and stars.
I burn in the fire of separation.
Now I pray by counting the rise and fall of your breath.
For your sake...
every atrocity of this world is acceptable to me,
Every atrocity is acceptable, my love.
- At 12:18am on March 26, 2009,
Mark said…
- I've already given my heart away.
I have become yours; by you I swear it!
Let the world do its worst;
I am devoted to you; by you I swear it!
All my hopes spring from you, my love.
I have caught you and placed myself in your care.
I will never forget you, beloved.
My life will pass in the shadow of memories of you.
After God, I will worship you alone.
Ask of me what you will; everything I have is yours.
- At 4:18am on March 24, 2009,
Mark said…
- I wish that I could be a bird.
That I could fly, that I could sing,
That I could touch untouchable peaks,
That I could forget the roads of this earth
And never return.
I would bathe in holy wells,
Swallowing great gulps of bountiful water.
I would sit on the shore of a great lake,
And sing a halting song.
I would go into a flowering wildrness
And inhale the perfume-laden air.
I would warm the mountain peaks,
Frozen by centuries of coldness,
In a close embrace.
I wish that I could be a bird.
My nest would be among mulberry trees
In the caper, the mesquite or the cypress.
When the cold east wind blew,
The boughs would sway
Like children playing on swings.
One day there would be such a storm,
That all the twigs would scatter.
Homeless, nestless, I would become.
For the rest of my life I would drink the nectar of sorrow,
And live my life in its intoxication.
I wish that I could be a bird.
- At 3:45am on March 24, 2009,
Mark said…
- Mother, o mother,
My songs are like eyes
That sting with the grains of separation.
In the middle of the night ,
They wake and weep for Loved
Mother, I cannot sleep.
Upon them I lay strips of moonlight
Soaked in perfume,
But the pain does not recede.
I foment them
With warm sighs,
Yet they turn on me ferociously
I am still young,
And need guidance myself.
Who can advise her?
Mother, would you tell her,
To clench her lips when she weeps,
Or the world will hear her cry.
Tell her, mother, to swallow the bread
Of separation.
she is fated to mourn.
Tell her to lick the salty dew
On the roses of sorrow,
And stay strong.
Who are the snake handlers
From whom I can get another skin?
Give me a cover for myself.
How can I wait like a saint
At the doorstep of these peoples
Greedy for gold?
Listen, o my pain,
Love is that butterfly
Which is pinned forever to a stake.
Love is that bee,
From whom desire,
Stays miles away.
Love is that palace
Where nothing lives
Except for the birds.
Love is that hearth
Where the colored bed of fulfillment,
Is never laid.
Mother, tell her not to
Call out the name of her love.
So loudly in the middle of the night.
When I am gone, I fear
That this malicious world,
Will say that my songs were evil.
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