Where was this melancholy in those days?
This crying inside,
Singing of faraway things?
I raised hell
Every day then;
To a dance today, to the movies tomorrow,
If I didn’t like it, to a cafe;
If I didn’t like that either, to the park;
I embellished my lover
In poems,
I took her to picnics,
A book of poems on our laps;
Where, where,
Where was this melancholy in those days?
translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
Erm, what am I doing with my life?
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Leonard Durso 
It was there, wondering
if that girl would ever like you
pretending, to be cool
Now, if you look
you’ll find a deeper
happiness
That is a poem in itself.
“Sing me a song,
Of a lad that is gone…
Say could that lad be I?”
That lad could be a lot of people methinks. But glad you like it.
It’s a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson that I read as a child. These lines brought the memory flooding back. 🙂
Ah. associations. I recently reread Treasure Island two years ago than watched the DVD with Wallace Beery. Brought back my childhood.
This poem certainly rings a bell! M.E.
I agree wholeheartedly.