Sunset is the time in the day when the sun disappears below the horizon because of the earth’s rotation and its time is different in various countries around the world. Sunset is one of the most beautiful scenes that everyone wants to see especially on the beach or mountain and there are stunning pictures of it which are taken by professional photographers. Sunset profile pictures are so popular among different people since they are capable of showing a wide range of meanings based on the mood of the person especially for those who do not want to have their own images on their profiles.
In this post, we have prepared the most trending and stunning sunset profile pictures for different social media like Facebook, Instagram, Whats app and Telegram.
Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not:
I am no summer friend, but wintry cold,
A silly sheep benighted from the fold,
A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot.
Take counsel, sever from my lot your lot,
Dwell in your pleasant places, hoard your gold;
Lest you with me should shiver on the wold,
Athirst and hungering on a barren spot.
For I have hedged me with a thorny hedge,
I live alone, I look to die alone:
Yet sometimes, when a wind sighs through the sedge,
Ghosts of my buried years and friends come back,
My heart goes sighing after swallows flown
On sometime summer’s unreturning track.
From Sunset To Star Rise
Christina Georgina Rossetti
Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.
leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs-
leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning’s flagons up
And say how many Dew,
Tell me how far the morning leaps—
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!
Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin’s ecstasy
Among astonished boughs—
How many trips the Tortoise makes—
How many cups the Bee partakes,
The Debauchee of Dews!
Also, who laid the Rainbow’s piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite—
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?
Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who’ll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away,
Bring Me The Sunset In A Cup
To-night the west o’er-brims with warmest dyes;
Its chalice overflows
With pools of purple coloring the skies,
A flood with gold and rose;
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.
I seem to hear a bar of music float
And swoon into the west;
My ear can scarcely catch the whispered note,
But something in my breast
Blends with that strain, till both accord in one,
As cloud and color blend at set of sun.
And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes,
As ashes follow flame.
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies
Call tenderly my name;
It was as if some priestly fingers stole
In benedictions, o’er my lonely soul.
I know not why, but all my being longed
And leaped at that sweet call;
My heart outreached its arms, all passion thronged
And beat against Fate’s wall,
Crying in utter homesickness to be
Near to a heart that loves and leans to me.
Emily Pauline Johnson
Sunset at Night—is natural—
But Sunset on the Dawn
So Midnight’s—due—at Noon.
And Science bows them in—
But do one face us suddenly—
Jehovah’s Watch—is wrong.
Sunset At Night—is Natural
There is a tide mysterious as the sea,
Dividing light and darkness endlessly,
West of the moment’s own necessity.
A touch of sunset on a distant hill
Gives vividness a little music still.
It plays our song, my friend, against all will.
Wind plucks the lonely harp strings of the air.
Loss of the landscape is beyond compare.
Our solace is the humanness we share.
Previously published, ‘Poetry Depth Quarterly’
A Touch Of Sunset
An ignorance a Sunset
Confer upon the Eye—
Circumference&mda sh; Decay—
It is Amber Revelation
Of Our inferior face—
And when the solemn features
We start—as if detected
An Ignorance A Sunset