A poet could not but be gay meaning in hindi

"a poet could not but be gay, in such a jocund company" "have a merry Christmas" "jolly old Saint Nick" "peals of merry laughter" "the jolly crowd at the reunion" "when hearts were young and gay" gay संज्ञा someone who is sexually attracted to persons of the same sex पर्यायवाची homo, homo, homophile, homosexual.

The hunger that day, and the fear. A sizable library my father had in the house, a telephone, five newspapers every morning and journals of various kinds. For my brother and me, his life was wrapped in mystery. Even though our generation came later, the split came streaming into us from a violent and unforgettable past.

I need to take a closer look at the child who became estranged from her immediate surroundings by processes she never understood. Given to the vices of reading and writing, he sought the company of poets. Google's service, offered free of charge, instantly translates words, phrases, and pages between English and over other languages.

Here, 'gay' is used in its traditional sense, meaning happy or cheerful. A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company.” from “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,” by William Wordsworth Explanation: This poem is of a different time from ours, when “gay” meant only “bright and pleasant, promoting a feeling of cheer,” and “jocund” meant “full of high-spirited merriment.”.

The third time everyone, especially my father, just gave up. Let me change it for once and see what happens: We were poor, but we had style. I studied in an English medium school, and put up with humiliation every day for wearing torn shoes and not paying the fee on time. Many poets and raconteurs of Pakistan often came to our house.

The phrase expresses that any poet, upon witnessing or experiencing the beautiful scene being described (usually, in William Wordsworth's poem 'The Daffodils'), would naturally feel a sense of happiness or joy; it would be impossible for a sensitive soul (like a poet) not.

It still is for me. I was more reckless and I got beaten more. And with many Urdu writers my father had a deep friendship. And in later years the guilt burdening the person who thrashed me regularly, and my bitterness, eventually turning into compassion.

But our next meal was always uncertain. Her countless vain efforts at rearing us and the feeling my brother and I had every morning, that we were born anew from her body, hungrier and needier than before. Had been reduced to indigence from extreme prosperity, twice in their lifetime.

The instinct, as always, is to talk about her in the third person. He edited a literary magazine, the title of which was Nigarish. If some money came to Mother from her stitching work, we got our food, not otherwise. We had books, we had music, and I had an artistic upbringing, so to speak.

For months on end he would be away on monk-like treks. The families, my ancestors, had moved twice: once from Burma and then from Pakistan. I replay a few images for myself: A kite flying off after snatching the roti from my hand, for instance. Festival Festival archive Bombing of Poems C.

For schools For organisations and companies Upcoming workshops Spraakzaam Rotterdam. But for some reason, my father, my mother and my brother were not entitled to any share in his prosperity. About Us. Contact us. And we settled down with a split in our wildly beating hearts.

I mean in Amritsar, where she spent her early years steeped in poverty of a kind that was illumined by glowing riches from the inside, and which is still wrapped in mystery for me. The thrashing immediately afterward for having lost my roti.