The pleasure reminds him of a summer evening in a real city, maybe Copenhagen, where he once stayed for a couple of days. Over there the night does not suddenly pounce, it feels its way gently. There the veil of twilight stretches for three or four hours, as though the evening aspires to reach out and touch the dawn.
Amos Oz in Don't Call It Night (1994), translated by Nicholas de Lange
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
In The Evening
I
In the evening of our days,
When the first far stars above
Glimmer dimmer, through the haze,
Than the dewy eyes of love,
Shall we mournfully revert
To the vanished morns and Mays
Of our youth, with hearts that hurt,--
In the evening of our days?
II
Shall the hand that holds your own
Till the twain are thrilled as now,
Be withheld, or colder grown?
Shall my kiss upon your brow
Falter from its high estate?
And, in all forgetful ways,
Shall we sit apart and wait--
In the evening of our days?
III
Nay, my wife--my life!--the gloom
Shall enfold us velvetwise,
And my smile shall be the groom
Of the gladness of your eyes:
Gently, gently as the dew
Mingles with the darkening maze,
I shall fall asleep with you--
In the evening of our days.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Darkness Falls Like A Shadow Over You (In Answer To Pablo Neruda)
The darkness falls like a shadow over you,
where your eyes gleam like that of a cat
as the silver twilight sudden start to rush in
and abstracted your face fades into twilight.
Without a word you gaze into the night,
gaze down at neon lights flickering on,
while I am alone in our big hot bed
and there is a kind of loneliness that comes
with this early evening’s magical hour,
while the sun flames in its red glowing fire
that splashes over your white dress
as the night sets its roots into our souls
while hidden things suddenly come to life,
as your gentle laughter touches me very deep
when you enter our bedroom with a bottle
full of sparkling champagne, full of joy.
Suddenly life is rich as if the act of creation,
is in every gentle touch, as if new beginnings
of love, joy and tender bliss are totally endless
as the city lights suddenly wink on below.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tuesday Evening
AN EVENING
AFTER MONDAY
IS ALDO KRASS'
FAVORITE EVENING
IT IS TUESDAY
EVENING AND
IT IS NOT A BUSY
EVENING AND
ALDO LIKES IT
TO BE NOT
A BUSY EVENING
WITH HIS JULIET
AFTER WINTER
AND SPRING
IT WILL BE SUMMER
ON A TUESDAY
EVENING AND
IT WILL BE A LOVELY
EVENING
ALONE PERHAPS
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Tired Worker
O whisper, O my soul! The afternoon
Is waning into evening, whisper soft!
Peace, O my rebel heart! for soon the moon
From out its misty veil will swing aloft!
Be patient, weary body, soon the night
Will wrap thee gently in her sable sheet,
And with a leaden sigh thou wilt invite
To rest thy tired hands and aching feet.
The wretched day was theirs, the night is mine;
Come tender sleep, and fold me to thy breast.
But what steals out the gray clouds like red wine?
O dawn! O dreaded dawn! O let me rest
Weary my veins, my brain, my life! Have pity!
No! Once again the harsh, the ugly city.
poem by Claude McKay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Evening Coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
Atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
It really dont matter much, which way I go.
But remember to pull over in the storm.
Have you seen the evening coconut
Bobbing on the bay?
Standing on the waters edge of stone
Someone there besides you
To hear the words you say
To show you things your eyes have never known.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
The statue of liberty is breathing in the air
While atlantis is waiting down below.
Late at night, flashing lights are sighted in the air.
Its no secret, what everybody knows.
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
Evening coconut, evening coconut
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gold Clouds
As the wind goes on to its own stream
In the gold clouds of tomorrow rising
Like a summer of flowers gold sunbeam
Those from a fantasy world are actualizing
With flow in the evening rays
As the wind goes on to its own stream
And everything is in its twilight’s dream
When glow of the evening plays
With every agleam that as arisen your mind
In the flickering clouds dancing high
When those moments of days are left behind
In the night falling beyond starry sky
And the night fills with dark allays
*(lyric from 1 of my trance songs)
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bells Of The Evening
Bells of the evening, o sing to my love
Tell her I miss her, my own turtledove
The streets of the old town are covered with rain
I think I might never know true love again
Im lost with no road signs to guide me
A slave to my whiskey and dreams
Bells of the evening, o bells that I love
Ive got some feelings I long to be rid of
Im not one to ramble; Im not one to boast
Though I had one lover more lovely than most
She was a country girl born to be free
Who took to the city by chance there to find me
Bells of the evening go pealin
Im down here listenin to you
Bells of the evening, o bells of the sea
Tell her that I love her, that Im lost and so lonely
Bells of the evening, your sweet sunday sound
Reminds me of the redwoods and moss covered ground
So if I should wander on back to the coast
Tell her to remember its her I need the most
Im caught by the minstrels misfortune
Of being forever displaced
Bells of the evening, o bells of the sea
Tell her that I love her; that Im lost Im so lonely
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn 81
A song for morning or evening.
Lam. 3:23; Isa. 45:7.
God, how endless is thy love!
Thy gifts are every evening new;
And morning mercies from above
Gently distill like early dew.
Thou spread'st the curtains of the night,
Great guardian of my sleeping hours;
Thy sovereign word restores the light,
And quickens all my drowsy powers.
I yield my powers to thy command,
To thee I consecrate my days;
Perpetual blessings from thine hand
Demand perpetual songs of praise.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Mad Summer Nights
The mad summer evening stretches its
thin weakened blue across the sky
The mad men stir in their soon doom.
These summer queries of mad men
stretch the already thin layered hope…
across these infinite dying blue skies.
Ah! and in the summer, the mad men
yammer to themselves
For the starlit, mad night to come
and sing them a soothing lullaby
Ah! Ah!
Those mad summer nights!
poem by Blaine Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everything Reminds Me Of Her
I never really had a problem because of leaving
But everything reminds me of her this evening
So if I seem a little out of it, sorry
But why should I lie?
Everything reminds me of her
The spin of the earth impaled a silhouette of the sun on the steeple
And I got to hear the same sermon all the time now from you people
Why are you staring into outer space, crying?
Just because you came across it, and lost it
Everything reminds me of her
Everything reminds me of her
Everything reminds me of her
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Is Here
I hear the sounds of children at play,
as the sun has turned
the black clouds of rain away.
Summer is here
and laughter fills the air,
flowers fill the gardens
with colour everywhere.
After a hard days work
you feel free,
some will sit the evening out
eyes glued to the TV.
Not for me the little box,
rather an evening stroll.
Then sit to rest
my weary bones somewhere,
letting the cool evening breeze
dance with my hair.
As I sit quietly
absorbing all around.
Watching the sun
sink slowly in the west.
Breathing in the cool evening air,
as night begins to call.
11 June 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Evening Shadows
When evening shadows fall
Minutes seem so long
When evening shadows fall
I'm waiting for the dawn
I miss you every night
Just about this time
You're always on my mind
When evening shadows fall
When evening shadows fall
End up staring at the wall
Even when you're gone
The feeling's all so strong
Want you to come on back
Back where you belong
So I can sing my song
When evening shadows fall
Well I'm living in a dream
And it s getting so late
And you call my name
And I'm wide awake
It might as well be night
Hope that you're alright
Well I just can't wait
To get you in my sight
I'm here every day
Just about this time
From dusk till dawn
When evening shadows fall
Well I'm living in a dream
And it's getting so late
And you call my name
Then I'm wide awake
It might as well be night
Hope that you're alright
Well I just can't wait
To get you in my sight
You ask me if I miss you
I say not at all
Only every night
'Bout this time
When evening shadows fall
Every night about this time
When evening shadows fail
You're always on my mind
When evening shadows fall
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0034 Going to school to Rilke
We could not have counted on it,
those days when we were children young in years
but rich with a thousand hopes
jostling, pushed aside, forgotten in a day,
turned over in the mind in those few savoured moments
before a happy-tired sleep
nor did we think even to hope for it
or think how it would be to squeeze the honey of it
between our palms into our ready mouths
leaving the wax upon our hands and laughing
together or alone, in rainbow solitude
but now it’s here, we can savour the honey of it,
the future which we could not have had before
the days and years had closed like inexorable cupped petals,
into a summer evening’s sun-hazed past –
we could not have hoped or counted on nor dreamed -
these days when, all required work now done,
life’s evening hours and the late and lazy
golden leisure of fruit-filled autumn branches
stretches out in even though not endless measure –
today I choose to go to school to Rilke,
a choice as free as we think the birds are free,
the animals, the trees – yet know so little,
so very little, of their life –
and pick up the book of his poems at blissful random,
and read one single line –
‘I have great faith in all things not yet spoken’ –
and sit here, as the world falls, gently, as somewhere far away,
the book silent between my hands, having spoken,
like a honeycomb holding the honey
of some new, untrodden, unbelievably rich life.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Getting Old
Now that we're suddenly old and tired,
The mirrors are never as kind,
We venture out in a world that changed
As our youth slipped far behind;
We only walk at a snail's pace
And shiver in autumn rain,
Then stop to rest, as the evening light
Draws down on us, once again.
The young look on, but they never see
They'll be old one day, like us,
They think we live in some cobweb dream
And just fade away, and rust;
When I come in from the world outside
And shutter the outer door,
I see my lover still waits for me
As she's done so often before.
I tend to gaze at her longer now,
To capture her in my mind,
We're not too sure of the time we've got
So we tend to be more than kind,
I kiss her gently and watch the glow
Of stars, at the back of her eyes,
And she opens up like a flower in spring
At a touch, or a sweet surprise.
Then many an evening, after dark
When the wind howls up at the moon,
I gently unwrap my sweetest gift
And rest my face in the gloom,
She sighs and soughs like a gentle breeze,
Leans back like a sapling bent,
And touch is a pit at the end of the world
Where our last few days are spent.
5 March 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Evening Breeze
I was loud and a little sad
She was visiting from atlanta, georgia
She had come to spend the summer with her dad
I thought she was very pretty
We would kiss and hold hands
Every night by the football field
Her body was tan
From the afternoons by the public swimming pool
Chorus:
Sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze
I saw her in a coffee shop
In a big hotel down in austin, texas
She had cut her long hair off
And replaced it with
Blue eyes of sadness
Still acted like we were kids
And she told me that she had to marry
And she asked me if I did
Still remember
Chorus:
Sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze
How redundant the future can be
These days of old are very, very
Ridiculous for me to see
When I think about the real gone stories
And how time holds the winning hand
I can tell by the lines on our faces
And the young cant understand
That they look at me
When they look at themselves
Chorus:
Oh, sweet evening breeze
Blows around my thoughts and memories
As I lie here today
And drink my tea
I can still see
Sweet evening breeze
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sixty Hours
Smoke, blasts, billowing clouds
Billowing curtains from carved windows
The railway station now also has it's widows.
The city, in a daze, unable to grasp
Daily life has stopped; now suddenly
Mumbai, in a stupor tries to awake from
This nightmare without an end.
One dawn, many down.
Second dawn, many down
Third dawn, day has come
What will this city become?
Sixty hours of tears, fears and passion
Sixty hours of waiting, hoping for compassion
The rat-tat-tat carries on, carries on
The loved ones have go on to become
Victims, heroes, or statistics
When the day is finally,
Finally and irrevoccably done.
Cry, city, cry
Shed your lonely tears on the beach
Sixty hours, and your loved ones
Are far beyond your reach.
In this dying we are all one
In tragedy we are all one.
Now our day is, with sad finality done.
Copyright: Rani Turton
26,27,28 November 2008
Dedicated in hommage to the victims and those who who gave their lives to protect the city.
poem by Rani Turton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midsummer's day
Fairies' power is its strongest,
When the day is at its longest,
Around the flames of a bonfire,
The night's magic will transpire,
Our thanks gets given to the sun,
Before long summer will be done,
Long summer days we will soon miss,
Sunlight ebbs past the summer solstice,
Once the sun appears in the East,
It's time to ready for a feast,
Stay out long into the evening,
There's festivities and dancing,
Spent within the warm evening air,
There are smiles to share everywhere,
It's light close to the midnight hour,
Making shine many a flower.
poem by Christian Lacdael
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer In The City
Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty
Been down, isnt it a pity
Doesnt seem to be a shadow in the city
All around, people looking half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head
But at night its a different world
Go out and find a girl
Come-on come-on and dance all night
Despite the heat itll be alright
And babe, dont you know its a pity
That the days cant be like the nights
In the summer, in the city
In the summer, in the city
Cool town, evening in the city
Dressing so fine and looking so pretty
Cool cat, looking for a kitty
Gonna look in every corner of the city
Till Im wheezing like a bus stop
Running up the stairs, gonna meet you on the rooftop
But at night its a different world
Go out and find a girl
Come-on come-on and dance all night
Despite the heat itll be alright
And babe, dont you know its a pity
That the days cant be like the nights
In the summer, in the city
In the summer, in the city
Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty
Been down, isnt it a pity
Doesnt seem to be a shadow in the city
All around, people looking half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head
But at night its a different world
Go out and find a girl
Come-on come-on and dance all night
Despite the heat itll be alright
And babe, dont you know its a pity
That the days cant be like the nights
In the summer, in the city
In the summer, in the city
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Best Time Of The Day
Cool summer nights.
Windows open.
Lamps burning.
Fruit in the bowl.
And your head on my shoulder.
These the happiest moments in the day.
Next to the early morning hours,
of course. And the time
just before lunch.
And the afternoon, and
early evening hours.
But I do love
these summer nights.
Even more, I think,
than those other times.
The work finished for the day.
And no one who can reach us now.
Or ever.
poem by Raymond Clevie Carver
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Sun Kissed
The chilled dark night had passed away
And daylight came with dawn,
Fresh warmth was born and chose to stay
And blessed a brand new morn...
Upon the craggy rock he climbed,
One white wolf, all alone...
And there he stayed, as if he timed
The hours on his own...
No clouds were sailing by above,
No birds that swirled and swirled...
With just the sun to show him love
Within his lonesome world...
That sun had been a faithful friend,
Warmhearted through and through...
For all the hours God could send,
Yes, credit where it's due...
It led him to his hunting grounds
To feed and thus stay strong...
And showed him places he could pounce
Before game strolled along...
It didn't judge, like men have done,
For centuries and more...
He hunted game, but not for fun
And didn't go to war...
The day went on and evening neared...
The cold began to bite...
And when the silver moon appeared,
He kissed the sun goodnight....
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sun Kissed'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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