Fire and water are gude servants but ill maisters.
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It is with our passions as it is with fire and water, they are good servants, but bad masters.
Fire and water are good servants but bad masters.
It is with our passions, as it is with fire and water, they are good servants but bad masters.
Fire and Water
Fire and water.
Fire and water, closer than we think.
We always think of fire
The destroyer, the demolisher.
We always think water
The life-bringer, the rebuilder
But, what about flash floods?
Rushing, raging taking all.
What about forest fires?
Spreading nutrients,
And maintaining habitats?
Also, without fire there is no passion
No love, no drive
But, without water no serenity,
no restraint, or peace
we need to keep balance in our lives
fire and water duality
kindness in our hearts
passion in our work
Fire and water.
poem by Matt Daffern
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The passions are like fire and water: good servants but bad masters.
Men in Great Place are thrice Servants Servants of the Sovereign or State Servants of Fame and Servants of Business It is strange desire to seek Power and to lose Liberty.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire! Fire!
A fire is lit, gleaming backs
Drums beat, in ecstasy dancers
Hop around the night fire
He dipped, to be baptized,
In water and said
‘ he will come for water
His time will change to fire’
Fire! Fire!
Lit in my heart, this fire
That heals, in ecstasy, in holiness
Universe enjoined, fire in your eyes
Melted my heart!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Braid Claith
Ye wha are fain to hae your name
Wrote in the bonny book of fame,
Let merit nae pretension claim
To laurel'd wreath,
But hap ye weel, baith back and wame,
In gude Braid Claith.
He that some ells o' this may fa,
An' slae-black hat on pow like snaw,
Bids bauld to bear the gree awa',
Wi' a' this graith,
Whan bienly clad wi' shell fu' braw
O' gude Braid Claith.
Waesuck for him wha has na fek o't!
For he's a gowk they're sure to geck at,
A chiel that ne'er will be respekit
While he draws breath,
Till his four quarters are bedeckit
Wi' gude Braid Claith.
On Sabbath-days the barber spark,
When he has done wi' scrapin wark,
Wi' siller broachie in his sark,
Gangs trigly, faith!
Or to the meadow, or the park,
In gude Braid Claith.
Weel might ye trow, to see them there,
That they to shave your haffits bare,
Or curl an' sleek a pickly hair,
Wou'd be right laith,
Whan pacing wi' a gawsy air
In gude Braid Claith.
If only mettl'd stirrah green
For favour frae a lady's ein,
He maunna care for being seen
Before he sheath
His body in a scabbard clean
O' gude Braid Claith.
For, gin he come wi' coat threadbare,
A feg for him she winna care,
But crook her bonny mou' fu' sair,
And scald him baith.
Wooers shou'd ay their travel spare
Without Braid Claith.
Braid Claith lends fock an unco heese,
Makes mony kail-worms butterflies,
Gies mony a doctor his degrees
For little skaith:
In short, you may be what you please
Wi' gude Braid Claith.
For thof ye had as wise a snout on
As Shakespeare or Sir Isaac Newton,
Your judgment fouk wou'd hae a doubt on,
I'll tak my aith,
Till they cou'd see ye wi' a suit on
O' gude Braid Claith.
poem by Robert Fergusson
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In Water
You’re fraught with words, better go sit in water;
For they swell with meaning and glow more in water.
Look for the heart in the chest and roast it on embers
Look for the blood in the liver and drink it in water.
Tomorrow Kashmir will stretch in the sun like a desert,
The day after Ladakh and Leh will float in water.
Under the hollow banks frightened waves take refuge;
Lord Jaldev is born with fire in water.
At mid day, even the sun gets soaked in sweat;
At the end, even the moon catches fire in water.
Even in excitement, sometimes, people set towns on fire;
Even for fun, sometimes, people pour poison in water.
The lost cow is looking for the elevensome, would someone tell her?
Five drowned in dry land, six are aflame in water.
The peddler of ghazals, this Kamil, makes fiery calls
But the fatefrost people are coldly sleeping in water.
[Translated from the Kashmiri by Muneebur Rahman]
poem by Amin Kamil
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What Do You Want With Me
You live in a mansion, with your own private harbor
And you own an island, where you go every summer
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
You're been educated in the best schools all around the world
Life is simple when people hang on your every word
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
Your father is a leader and unknown to the world
A puppet master of billions, and your his little girl
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
You mother has a club in Rome where the elite come to gather
Illuminated by fine conversation, while enjoying their evening supper
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
Your riches can't buy everything
Your riches can't buy everything
You are a collector of unique and very precious things
And store them for safe keeping, hoping to save them
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
What do you want with me, Earth, wind, water, or fire
Copyright Colin Coplin 2012
poem by Colin Coplin
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Bathing In A Tub
What is cleaner-
Bathing inside a tub
or out of it?
How stupid to ask
such a silly question!
You put turkey in a pan
to cook it over fire
Your potatoes won't bake
but burn if put in fire
Your Bar-B-Q would char
if put in fire
So, what seems good
Is to put things over fire
not in it.
If you bathed in a tub
full of water with sud
your pretty skin will catch
all the germs you dropped
in the dirty bath water
No need to be Japanese
But learn from anybody is good
you don't have to burn your hand
by putting your hand in fire
or for the sake of this topic
in the infested water in the tub
Get going and take a bath
outside the bath tub
when you've cleansed yerself
of all 'pollution'
then only you should sit
pretty in the clean water
of your bath tub
and get healthier and more!
poem by mazHur Butt
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Siren Of Fire
Fire:
When the water turns to mist
And the flames are rising high
I'll appear to you my darling
To wipe the tears from your eyes
I'll dance around the fire pit
Running wild with the flames
But as soon as the fire is out
I'll leave you without so much as my name
Water:
When water extinguishes the flame
It will also extinguish me
I will leave you to yourself
To soak in memory
When the land is watered down
And you stand beside the sea
Look for the bonfires
For that is where you'll find me
Burned:
Don't play with fire dearest
You know you will be burned
Leave the flames to me my love
They remind me of how I've yearned
For the sensation of my fire
That keeps our passions hot
I'll stay with you until the tide comes in
But after, I cannot
Drowned:
They douse the flames with water
Putting out the light
I drown with the flames
That ensnared you all night
I cannot stay with you now
My flames have been drowned out
But remember whenever you need me
Fire will bring me about
poem by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow
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Many maisters, quoth the Poddock to the Harrow, when every tind took her a knock.
You May Believe
Four elements, fire, earth, air and water,
Each on the calendar takes a quarter.
Fire and water together do not mix,
Fire always needs air, for that is its fix.
Earth, air and water that is a trio.
In what section would we find our Leo.
Horoscopes are some peoples obsession,
All the forecasts would give one depression.
You may believe them or you may not,
But quite frankly, I do not care a jot.
I’m an Aries and I’m a fiery one.
A Ram, well Ewe, when all is said and done.
Whatever prediction, for good or ill,
Will on a few occasions fit the bill.
Astrology will continue to lure,
All who feel readings can foretell ‘Amour’.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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A Force Powerful!
Drenched in rain while walking in the beach
I decided not to take shelter nearby anywhere
Because the rain would not stop so soon then!
I used to be careful about my shoes at rain time;
I have lost many canvas shoes due to rain water!
Otherwise I enjoyed walking in rain seeing sea
And the water running in floods along the road!
Which is most powerful - fire or water? I brood!
Fire and water are counter forces and dangerous,
In which man cannot survive long by anyway!
Water contains fire and most powerful of the two!
But rain cools down body and creates jollity
That makes children and elders enjoy in dance,
A natural urge nobody can refuse to accept!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Water and Fire - Triolet
Water and fire oppose each other;
Sing the transmutation song
Air flows like water; it's another
Water and fire oppose each other,
And Earth's our gentle-giant mother,
Matter sings it's song life-long
Water and fire oppose each other;
Sing the transmutation song.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Fir and water are good servants, but bad masters.
The fire and the water
The fire belongs to heaven
It was stolen by Prometheus
and was brought to the earth
The fire however always wants to
go back home in the skies
The flames always clamour for that
looking up with hissing tongue
The fire seeks to burn the earth into ethereal heaven
The water belongs to the earth
The demon Vritra robbed the earth of its water
and hid it in the caverns of heaven
But the water longs for its home and groans
through the thundering cloud
till it comes back home in earth
in rains
When do the fire of the skies
and the water of the mingle?
Do they ever mingle?
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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When the wind started blowing in the afternoon
When the wind started blowing in the afternoon,
some African red-knobbed coots rose in a screaming row,
while the sun hanged over the water red like fire
and the twilight only lasted moments
while they flew past with slapping wings,
when the wind started blowing in the afternoon,
I felt a light breeze blowing against my cheek,
there was serenity and peace that came to me
while the sun hanged over the water red like fire,
there was a kind of bliss in nature
when dappled Egyptian goose also tried to avoid me,
when the wind started blowing in the afternoon,
I was caught by the sheer beauty,
I heard the call of birds cutting through the reeds,
while the sun hanged over the water red like fire
while the sky was darker and no more azure,
while ducks glide magically through the water,
when the wind started blowing in the afternoon,
the sun hanged over the water red like fire.
poem by Gert Strydom
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