I Dream a World

by Langton Hughes

I dream a world where man
No other man will scorn,
Where love will bless the earth
And peace its paths adorn.
I dream a world where all
Will know sweet freedom's way,
Where greed no longer saps the soul
Nor avarice blights our day.
A world I dream where black or white,
Whatever race you be,
Will share the bounties of the earth
And every man is free,
Where wretchedness will hang its head
And joy, like a pearl,
Attends the needs of all mankind--
Of such I dream, my world!

And I dream a class where we improve our English with the words of great poets and writers.

Sound unity

There is not a single Iranian who is not familiar with the beautiful musical instrument called The Nei or more poetically Nai. To some degree, every Iranin loves the soft, soothing sound that this mystical intrument produces. In its close, intimate relation to a vast majority of common people, I believe that the Nei is for an Iranian what a harmonica is for an American. I still remember how lovingly John Steinbeck praised the Harmonica in his novel 'The Grapes of Wrath.'

Aside from the ease of carrying this instrument around and its soothing sound, Rumi has had a fundamental role in its fame and popularity. He has started the first line of the greatest masterpiece in mystical literature, Masnavi, with the sound of Nei: Listen to the Nei as it explains / Stories of seperation and pains.

Today I was thinking that although this is the pain of separations that brings Nei to sing, the soothing sound itself brings our hearts together in a common joy. Through Rumi and the joy we all experience in his poetry and music we all reach a mystical unity with each other. This is true of all the great artists and their works.

Ali

Learning through poetry

For me the the most wonderful part of learning English has always been the delightful journey I have taken through the English and American literatures. Poets, in my view, have written the best books for learning any new language. The following poem is from the great American poet Rober Frost. Do we have to know a lot of English to immerse our hearts in the immense beauty of the following poem and learn from it?


Judge for yourself:

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.