The motivation for
the NPM series is to celebrate April 2015 -- the National poetry month
(hence NPM in the title), by sharing a favorite poem of mine every day
of this month, starting April 13, 2015.
Default and that too on a weekend!!! But hey, tomorrow is another day -- the immortal final words of Scarlett O'Hara from Gone with the Wind.
I do not remember how I came across this poem, but it has stayed with me with its haunting melancholy for one of those pensive days. You might recognize the famous first two lines which frequently find mention in the texts on their own.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Default and that too on a weekend!!! But hey, tomorrow is another day -- the immortal final words of Scarlett O'Hara from Gone with the Wind.
I do not remember how I came across this poem, but it has stayed with me with its haunting melancholy for one of those pensive days. You might recognize the famous first two lines which frequently find mention in the texts on their own.
Solitude
-- Ella Wheeler WilcoxLaugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
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