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- queen feristah15
- ölümden korkuyor musunuz11
- erkeklerin her konuşmayı flörte bağlaması6
- bir kadın uğruna hayatını değiştirmek5
- ayı dövmenin aslında zor olmaması10
- hafızayı sildirmek6
- işiniz gücünüz yok mu11
- bir bela geliyor29
- matrix te yaşadığımız gerçeği4
- sözlükten korkmak5
- ayıyla güreşmek7
- gecenin şarkısı18
- gocu43
- fusya semsiyeli yabanci20
- masada aniden ayağa kalkıp şiir okuyan erkek8
- sözlükte en çok sevdiğiniz olay7
- zalbert ramstein4
- gerçeğin önemi kalmadığı gerçeği3
- karı diyen öküzleri gırtlaklama isteği10
- sevilen kişiden sevilen şarkıyı dinlemek2
- arkadaşlar çabuk buraya bakın5
- bir kadından hoşlanmak2
- açık oylayan favlayan msj atan nickaltı giren kız6
- ben basit bir insanım2
- eve gelen escorta lahmacun söylemek5
- mazotun yarım litresi 50 tl24
- nervio12
- uludağ itiraf15
- insanları imcitmeyi havalı bir şey sanan ibneler6
- bara giden erkeğin asıl amacı7
- yağmurda ıslanınca murat kekilli ye benzeyen kız4
- uludağ sözlük evreni8
- apo'nun villası11
- sözlüğün insanı dertlendirmesi5
- arkadaşlar ben yine kilo aldım ya14
- kendin hakkında bir entry bırak9
- erkekler neden evlenmek ister15
- bilin bakalım ben kimin fakesiyim6
- 195 kaslı pilot14
- izmirbeyefendisi'nin şemsiyeli olması6
- donald trump'un türk askerini övmesi10
- duştan yeni çıkmış six packli erkek3
- seninleyken kendim olabiliyorum2
- sözlük yazarlarının gerçek adları41
- gece dinlenen podcast te anırarak gülen adamlar3
- heyt bea gocu mu5
- hasan atilla uğur14
- arkadaşlar çok kırıcısınız6
- 7 aydır konuşulan kızın true çıkması3
- pandela2
ingiliz şair matthew arnold ın şiiri.
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the A gaean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the A gaean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
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