English poems मराठी | in Marathi Translation

A Healthy Body, A Healthy Mind  By Crisanta     Liu   Look at the children as they grow, Different life stages they undergo, Internal, external changes show, How wonderful it is to know. For a child to have a healthy body, Awareness, a must, for Mommy and Daddy, The food he eats in a group of three, Go, Glow, Grow for him is free. On the do’s and don’ts inform the young, On what to do on what to think, Start everything with a bang, No waste of time, all will sink. When evil thoughts enter one’s mind, Just pray to God and one will find, The right weapon is He alone, He’ll protect the brains your children own. Even for a day once the body is neglected, Strength and alertness surely prevented, Even for a day once thoughts are unattended, Righteous thinking quite affected. Eat and think what is right, Tell the child to do with might, A healthy life, an abundant life, A child should have day and night. मराठी अनुवाद एक निरोगी शरीर, एक निरोगी मन लहान मुले जसे वाढतात तस...

    “On His Blindness”  by John Milton (1608-1674) Poem:- When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide, “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?” I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies: “God doth not need Either man’s work or his own gifts: who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed And post o’er land and ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait.”   Meaning / Narration of the Poem This poem deals with one’s limitations and shortcomings in life. Everyone has them and Milton’s blindness is a perfect example of this. His eyesight gradually worsened and he became totally blind at the age of 42. This happened after he served in an eminent position un...

                             श्री बाळूमामा श्री बाळूमामा आरती जयदेव जयदेव जय बाळूमामा | आरती ओवाळू तुज कैवल्य धामा || धनगर कुलाचा उद्धार झाला | अवतरले संत अकोळ गावाला | बालपणी त्यांनी चमत्कार केला | वस्तीचे दर्शन भोजन थाळीला ||1||   मेंढ्या राखिती उन्हातान्हात | मुक्या प्राण्यावर अपार प्रीत | नीतीने वागावे कमी नाही होत | उन्मत्ताला मामा शासन करीत ||2||   गोसावी रुपात देवदूत आले | मामांचे त्यांनी सत्व पाहिले | अवघड विहिरीची पाणी पाजता | आशीर्वाद देवी प्रसन्न होता ||३||   दिन दुबळ्यांना मामा रक्षिती | निपुत्रीकाला मामा संतान देती | कन्या रोग्याला औषधी होती | भंडाऱ्याचा महिमा वर्णावा किती ||४|| Śrī bāḷū sulamāmā āratī jayadēva jayadēva jaya bāḷūmāmā | āratī ōvā suḷa tuja kaivalya dhamā || dhanagara kulācā ud'dhāra | avataralē santa akōla gāvālā | bālapaṇī hē cāra ṭhikāṇī | vastīcē darśana bhōjana thāḷīlā || 1 || mēṇḍhyā rākhī uṇḍatānhāta | mukā praṇōvara ap...

  “The Tiger”   by William Blake (1757-1827) Poem:- Tiger Tiger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp! When the stars threw down their spears And water’d heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tiger Tiger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?   Meaning /Narration of the Poem This poem contemplates a question arising from the idea of creation by an intelligent creator. The question is this: If ther...

  "Ode on a Grecian Urn”  by John Keats (1795-1821) Poem:- hou still unravish’d bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! h, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed Your leaves, ...

  “Ozymandias”  by Percy Bysshe Shelley(1792-1822) Poem:- I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: ‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’ Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.”   Meaning /Narration of the Poem In this winding story within a story within a poem, Shelley paints for us the image of the ruins of a statue of ancient Egyptian king Ozymandias, who is today commonly known as Ramesses II. This king is still regarded as the greatest and most powerful Egyptian pha...

  “The New Colossus”  by Emma Lazarus (1849-1887) Poem:- Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”   Meaning /Narration of the Poem Inscribed on the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor, this sonnet may have the greatest placement of any English poem. It also has one of the greatest placements in history. Lazarus compares the Statue of Liberty to the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Won...