The Bell Ringer (Le Sonneur)
While the bell awakens its voice clear and bright
To the pure deep air of the morning time,
Passing over a child who pours out in delight
An Angelus amid lavender and thyme,
The ringer, brushed by a bird brought to light,
Plods sadly and, mumbling a Latin rhyme
On the stone that stretches the old cord tight,
Hears only the tinkling of a far-off chime.
I myself am that man. For alas! when I pull
On anxious night’s rope to sound the Ideal,
Cold sins flaunt their faithful plumes in disdain
And the voice comes only as a hollow moan!
But one day, sick from having pulled in vain,
I’ll hang myself, Satan, removing the stone.
poem by Stephane Mallarme (15 March 1862), translated by Henry Weinfield
Submitted by anonym
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Related quotes
Voice From The Mountain
Voice from the mountain
And a voice from the sea
Voice in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
The sound on the ocean wave
And the sound in the tree
Sound in a country lane
Say you can be free.
Tell me you crowd you crowd
Tell me again
Tell me out loud out loud
This sound is rain.
Tune from the hillside
And tune full of light
A flute in the morning
And a chime in the night.
I know the game again
I know the score
I know my name my name
But this tune is more.
Voice from the mountain
And voice from the sea
Voice from in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night, on the Sea-shore
I have fled from all, and none can now
My way, my wanderings see;
The waters widely round me flow—
I feel that I am free!
Oh! who can wish for sunny day,
When they may look on that lovely ray—
On the moon so pure, so clear, and fair,
When no human form is nigh,
When no human voice can startle the air?
All is silence and secrecy.
No sound but the waters, that, murmuring, move—
No light but the shadowless orb above.
But see! the shadows are gathering fast—
The clear bright orb is gone:
Alas! no beauty can ever last,
That e'er I gaze upon!
The waters that sparkled so bright before
Now moan alone the gloomy shore;
And all is dark—as the fate will be
That spreads its cheerless path for me!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sculpting Krishna (2)
His parents guarded the temple,
answered questions; the child
wandered, looked, later read
all that was said;
now, he selects the stone,
listening all the time, hoping that
he hears the voice of Krishna say,
take this piece…
sharpens his chisel; prays;
with each tap, a chiselled prayer
rings out the question; magnified; or diminished?
chips away – outside himself, inside himself –
all that is not Krishna;
until finally, all that awaits
is the faintest sound of flute, of lightest laughter,
heard within the sculptor’s inner ear:
stone pretending to be Krishna;
Krishna, pretending to be stone.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Stone Cold
Every night I have the same old dream
bout you and me and whats in between
So many changes, so many lies
Try to run, try to hide
>from everything that I feel inside
But I cant escape you or your frozen eyes...
Searching in the darkness
Fading out of sight
Love was here and gone like a thief in the night...
Stone cold...
And I thought I knew you so well
Stone cold
Cant break away from your spell
Another dark and empty night
If I was wrong I wanna make it right
But you are so distant, so far away
Your words like ice fall on the ground
Breaking the silence without a sound
Oh familiar strangers with nothing to say
Searching in the darkness
Fading out of sight
Love was here and gone like a thief in the night...
Stone cold...
And I thought I knew you so well...
Stone cold
Cant break away from your spell...
You leave me stone cold
Searching in the darkness
Fading out of sight
Love was here and gone like a thief in the night...
Stone cold...
And I thought I knew you so well
Stone cold
Cant break away from your spell
Youre stone cold...yeah
I cant break away from your spell
Stone cold...baby
I thought I knew you so well
Youre stone cold...ice cold
Cant break away from your spell
(you put me in the deep freeze)
(oh baby dont you leave me)
(stone...cold, your leavin me cold)
Stone cold...i thought I knew you so well
Stone cold...cant break away from your spell
Repeat til fade
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Think!
Just think! some night the stars will gleam
Upon a cold, grey stone,
And trace a name with silver beam,
And lo! 'twill be your own.
That night is speeding on to greet
Your epitaphic rhyme.
Your life is but a little beat
Within the heart of Time.
A little gain, a little pain,
A laugh, lest you may moan;
A little blame, a little fame,
A star-gleam on a stone.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XII
I STAND beside the waves,--the mournful waves,--
Where thou didst stand in silence and in fear,
For thou wert train'd by custom's haughty slaves,
And love, from such as I, disdain'd to hear;
Yet, with the murmur of the echoing sea,
And the monotonous billows, rolling on,
Were mingled sounds of weeping,--for in thee
All nature was not harden'd into stone:
And from the shore there came a distant chime
From the old village-clock;--ah! since that day,
Like a dull passing-bell each stroke of time
Falls on my heart; and in the ocean spray
A voice of lamentation seems to dwell,
As in that bitter hour of agonised farewell!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Smothered Hope
withered rope you hang what's empty
can't remain to put it simply
in time
cry the hollow words to sing
with false disguise smothered hope
fly from sorrow for a new
divine tomorrow
i just don't want to know anymore
life shifts up and down
everybody knows it's wrong why
don't you care?
now do it seem fair?
it's not in the rhyme or reason
so it goes with every season
crawl to top fall through bottom
first hand love is really rotten
slice of life find what's plenty
inch towards a sanctuary
light with me inside the
womb i know everyone
everybody knows it's me it's my voice,
my voice cries out obscenity sightless eye
regard my past sometimes it should
i just don't want to know anymore.
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Watcher on the Tower
I
The Voice of a Man
WHAT of the Night, O Watcher?
The Voice of a Woman
Yea, what of it?
The Watcher
A star has risen; and a wind blows strong.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
But God is there above it.
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
II
Voice of the Man
What of the Night, O Watcher?
Voice of the Woman
Night of sorrow!
The Watcher
Out of the East there comes a sound, like song.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
Have courage! There’s To-morrow!
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
III
Voice of the Man
What of the Night, O Watcher?
Voice of the Woman
Is it other?
The Watcher
I see a gleam; a thorn of light; a thong.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
The Morning comes, my Brother.
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
IV
Voice of the Man
What now, what now, O Watcher?
The Watcher
Red as slaughter
The Darkness dies. The Light comes swift and strong.
Voice of the Man
The Night was long.—What sayest thou, my Daughter?
Voice of the Woman
The Night was dark; the Night was dark and long.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Under The Blue Skies...
Under the blue skies of her native land
She languished and began to fade...
Until surely there flew without a sound
Above me, her young shade;
But there stretches between us an uncrossable line.
In vain my feelings I tried to awaken.
The lips that brought the news were made of stone,
And I listened like a stone, unshaken.
So this is she for whom my soul once burned
In the tense and heavy fire,
Obsessed, exhausted, driven out of my mind
By tenderness and desire!
Where are the torments? Where is love? Alas!
For the unreturning days'
Sweet memory, and for the poor credulous
Shade, I find no lament, no tears.
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Believe
Here I am a man in a new generation
Keep hanging on to where I belong
I believe the world is one
Behind this masquerade
Reach out of the darkness
And bring in the light into day
Here I am a man with a old fascination
(just an old fascination)
Still holding the line on my time
cause I believe the day will come
When things will work out right
Reach out to your brothers
And save every mother and child
Well I want you to know
I believe that a love can find a way
And I believe that a heart of stone can break
I believe that a wise man hears a call
And the writings on the wall
And its shining so bright and clear
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I believe whats done is done
And what will be will be
Reach out to each other
A moment is all you need
Well I want you to know
I believe that a love can find a way
And I believe that a heart of stone can break
I believe that a wise man hears a call
And the writings on the wall
And its shining so bright and clear
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night
In the night, in the night,
When thou liest alone,
Ah, the sounds that are blown
In the freaks of the breeze,
By the spirit that sends
The voice of far friends
With the sigh of the seas
In the night!
In the night, in the night,
When thou liest alone,
Ah, the ghosts that make moan
From the days that are sped:
The old dreams, the old deeds,
The old wound that still bleeds,
And the face of the dead
In the night!
In the night, in the night,
When thou liest alone,
With the grass and the stone
O'er thy chamber so deep,
Ah, the silence at last,
Life's dissonance past,
And only pure sleep
In the night!
poem by William Watson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The British Museum
'What do you see in that time-touched stone,
When nothing is there
But ashen blankness, although you give it
A rigid stare?
'You look not quite as if you saw,
But as if you heard,
Parting your lips, and treading softly
As mouse or bird.
'It is only the base of a pillar, they'll tell you,
That came to us
From a far old hill men used to name
Areopagus.'
- 'I know no art, and I only view
A stone from a wall,
But I am thinking that stone has echoed
The voice of Paul,
'Paul as he stood and preached beside it
Facing the crowd,
A small gaunt figure with wasted features,
Calling out loud
'Words that in all their intimate accents
Pattered upon
That marble front, and were far reflected,
And then were gone.
'I'm a labouring man, and know but little,
Or nothing at all;
But I can't help thinking that stone once echoed
The voice of Paul.'
poem by Thomas Hardy
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The World Is Stone
Stone, the world is stone
Its no trick of the light
Its hard on the soul
Stone, the world is stone
Cold to the touch
And hard on the soul
In the grey of the streets
In the neon unknown
I look for a sign
That Im not on my own
That Im not here alone
As the still of the night
And the choke of the air
And the winners delight
And the losers despair
Closes in left and right
I would love not to care
Stone, the world is stone
From a faraway look
Without stars in my eyes
Through the halls of the rich
And the flats of the poor
Wherever I go
Theres no warmth anymore
Theres no love anymore
So I turn on my heels
Im declining the fall
Ive had all I can take
With my back to the wall
Tell the world Im not in
Im not taking the call
Stone, the world is stone
But I saw it once
With the stars in my eyes
When each colour rang out
In a thunderous chrome
Its no trick of the light
I cant find my way home
In a world of stone
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice that Sings
The voice that sings across the night
Of long forgotten days and things,
Is there an ear to hear aright
The voice that sings?
It is as when a curfew rings
Melodious in the dying light,
A sound that flies on pulsing wings.
And faded eyes that once were bright
Brim over, as to life it brings
The echo of a dead delight,
The voice that sings.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Pulled Up
Mommy, daddy, come and look at me now
Im a big man in a great big town
Years ago who would believe its true
Goes to show what a little faith can do
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so strong now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I slipped, and I got pulled,
Pulled up, I slipped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up pull me up pull me up...
Pulled me up up up up up up up up
I drift away to another land
Sleeping dreaming such a simple thing
I think of things that I might be
I see my name go down in history
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so string now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up
I slipped, and I got pulled,
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I tripped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I slipped, and then you pulled
You pulled me up! pulled me up up, pulled me up...
Pulled me up up up up up up up up
I got up
cause you pulled me up
I stood up
cause you pulled me up
I got up
And that was because you pulled me up
I got up
In a little while you pulled me up
Pull me up up up up, up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
I cast a shadow on the living-room wall
Dark and savage with a profile so sharp
Keep that wonderful food on the table
Theres really no hurry Ill eat in a while
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so strong now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I slipped,
And then you pulled, you pulled me up!
Pull me up...pull me up...watch out!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Elizabeth Ward Perkins
Dear Bessie, would my tired rhyme
Had force to rise from apathy,
And shaking off its lethargy
Ring word-tones like a Christmas chime.
But in my soul's high belfry, chill
The bitter wind of doubt has blown,
The summer swallows all have flown,
The bells are frost-bound, mute and still.
Upon the crumbling boards the snow
Has drifted deep, the clappers hang
Prismed with icicles, their clang
Unheard since ages long ago.
The rope I pull is stiff and cold,
My straining ears detect no sound
Except a sigh, as round and round
The wind rocks through the timbers old.
Below, I know the church is bright
With haloed tapers, warm with prayer;
But here I only feel the air
Of icy centuries of night.
Beneath my feet the snow is lit
And gemmed with colours, red, and blue,
Topaz, and green, where light falls through
The saints that in the windows sit.
Here darkness seems a spectred thing,
Voiceless and haunting, while the stars
Mock with a light of long dead years
The ache of present suffering.
Silent and winter-killed I stand,
No carol hymns my debt to you;
But take this frozen thought in lieu,
And thaw its music in your hand.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Croods [trailer 2]
Nicolas Cage (voice), Ryan Reynolds (voice), Emma Stone (voice), Catherine Keener (voice), Clark Duke (voice), Cloris Leachman (voice)
from The Croods (2013)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fading Lady Night
Ive had desert visions
When the moon is shining bright
The end of the rainbow promise
Almost in my sight
Sat with my back against cold stone
Waiting for the morning light
And all the things Ive seen in dreams
Have kept me up all night
Always reaching to the sky
Soft hard stone
Im sitting here and thinking
Bout all the centuries its known
Got a feeling someones near
Listening to the east wind moan
You know theres no one here
But I just dont feel alone
Fading lady light
Always here with me
Singing your song in the wind at night
You know Ive never felt so free
Youre my reality
Dont you fade away from me
The wind it paints your face
As it stirs the shifting sand
Nightmare creatures closing in
They leave at your command
If only you were beside me now
Maybe I would understand
And I could leave my dreams for life
To live the dream we planned
(repeat chorus)
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Curfew
I.
Solemnly, mournfully,
Dealing its dole,
The Curfew Bell
Is beginning to toll.
Cover the embers,
And put out the light;
Toil comes with the morning,
And rest with the night.
Dark grow the windows,
And quenched is the fire;
Sound fades into silence,--
All footsteps retire.
No voice in the chambers,
No sound in the hall!
Sleep and oblivion
Reign over all!
II.
The book is completed,
And closed, like the day;
And the hand that has written it
Lays it away.
Dim grow its fancies;
Forgotten they lie;
Like coals in the ashes,
They darken and die.
Song sinks into silence,
The story is told,
The windows are darkened,
The hearth-stone is cold.
Darker and darker
The black shadows fall;
Sleep and oblivion
Reign over all.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Raven Crows
The Raven Crows
by Charles Robert Hice on Thursday, November 22,2012 at 9: 27pm ·
The Raven Crows
The Raven stretches its wings and flies into the gray winter skies while the raven flies it Crows its rawkish voice makes aweful noise
it blows the wind it howls and sounds like a mechanical noise inside the wind
the noise pretends to be the raven as it crows it flies it crows and flies it dives down into the wind and sounds like a noise falling fast and then it sort of dies and falls away not the sound it echoes and it blows
in the middle of the night no one can see the ravens flight but they hear the voice the noise the sound even the wings they flap they glide silent and they hide
The raven seldom crows when it is in its glide it falls and hides no one can see the feathers as it plummets from the sky it moves in a silent fashion
as the raven glides it hides from the eyes of the men it has a sense of reality and a purpose as it glides it looks neither to the left or to the right finally it is satisfied with its destination in its sight the raven crows one final time and plummets like a stone into the night and suddenly a poem is come to earth as Poe hears his famous bird not the crow the rook or the blackbird as it sings but the Raven as it speaks to only him
Nevermore
The Raven Crows
poem by Charles Hice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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