Related quotes
Johnny One Note
Johnny could only sing one note
And the note he sings was this
Ah!
Poor johnny one-note
Sang out with gusto
And just overlorded the place
Poor johnny one-note
Yelled willy nilly
Until he was bleu in the face
For holding one note was his ace
Couldnt hear the brass
Couldnt hear the drum
He was in a class
By himself, by gum!
Poor johnny one-note
Got in aida
Indeed a great chance to be brave
He took his one note
Howled like the north wind
Brought forth wind that made critics rave,
While verdi turned round in his grave!
Couldnt hear the flute
Or the big trombone
Evry one was mute
Johnny stood alone.
Cats and dogs stopped yapping
Lions in the zoo
All were jealous of johnnys big trill
Thunder claps stopped clapping,
Traffic ceased its roar,
And they tell us niagra stood still.
He stopped the train whistles,
Boat whistles,
Steam whistles,
Cop whistles,
All whistles bowed to his skill
Sing johnny one-note,
Sing out with gusto and
Just overwhelm all the crowd
Ah!
So sing johnny one-note, out loud!!
Sing johnny one-note
Sing johnny one-note out loud!
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Little Bird
Little Bird up in the tree
won’t you sing a song for me,
something sweet and romantic say
before you wake up and fly away.
Little bird don’t be shy,
please sing me a song of love
before you fly way up above.
Little bird some joy bring
before you take to the wing.
Little bird up in the tree
please sing a song for me.
27 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chirping Bird
chirping bird chirping bird
chirp no more
the sun has come
and it is time for you to sing
chirping bird sing
chirping bird sing a song for the sun
it has come
to give you the clouds and the air and
the song for you to sing
chirping bird chirping bird
sing with the sun
sing that song for me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Little Bird Of Love And Desire
little bird of love and desire
do not perch upon a twig so far from me
fly a little bit closer
my heart is full of love and desire too
come closer and hover on the soft spot of my chest
there is a nest there
where you can rest
where you can soundly sleep
come little bird live with me
sing me the songs of love for i am weary
sing, sing, sing little bird and live with me
for i am weak and weary
when my eyes close little bird
come and heed this lover's last bid
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Song Of Singing
Sing! gangling lad, along the brink
Of wild brook-ways of shoal and deep,
Where killdees dip, and cattle drink,
And glinting little minnows leap!
Sing! slimpsy lass who trips above
And sets the foot-log quivering!
Sing! bittern, bumble-bee, and dove--
Sing! Sing! Sing!
Sing as you will, O singers all
Who sing because you _want_ to sing!
Sing! peacock on the orchard wall,
Or tree-toad by the trickling spring!
Sing! every bird on every bough--
Sing! every living, loving thing--
Sing any song, and anyhow,
But Sing! Sing! Sing!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Early bird
Early bird
catches worm.
Small bird sing earlier
Bird that see first
Break the dawn.
The bird tells
How to be a winner
In the long run.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Under The Balcony
O beautiful star with the crimson mouth!
O moon with the brows of gold!
Rise up, rise up, from the odorous south!
And light for my love her way,
Lest her little feet should stray
On the windy hill and the wold!
O beautiful star with the crimson mouth!
O moon with the brows of gold!
O ship that shakes on the desolate sea!
O ship with the wet, white sail!
Put in, put in, to the port to me!
For my love and I would go
To the land where the daffodils blow
In the heart of a violet dale!
O ship that shakes on the desolate sea!
O ship with the wet, white sail!
O rapturous bird with the low, sweet note!
O bird that sits on the spray!
Sing on, sing on, from your soft brown throat!
And my love in her little bed
Will listen, and lift her head
From the pillow, and come my way!
O rapturous bird with the low, sweet note!
O bird that sits on the spray!
O blossom that hangs in the tremulous air!
O blossom with lips of snow!
Come down, come down, for my love to wear!
You will die on her head in a crown,
You will die in a fold of her gown,
To her little light heart you will go!
O blossom that hangs in the tremulous air!
O blossom with lips of snow!
poem by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Tame Bird Was In A Cage
THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'
The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'
There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
VI
The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."
The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."
Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to
know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my
love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of
the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from The Gardener (1913)
Submitted by Silvia Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.
quote by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Brave little bird
leo is the victam
leo is the judge
leo is the killer
and also is the king
seen every word
even if your sound
was in a silent sag
known every action
there is no mistake
only fair miss take
never say to lion
he misunderstood
if you want to stay-alive
at chain of leo-food
as a walkin minu
as a waitin victam
of the killer king
it is not a game
he is not a gange
the law of the kingdom
is a law of the jungle
leo who is king
also is a killer
only little bird
little honey bird
can sing out this song
sing this holly song
three monks; there
teachin every one
three monkey's wisdom
never say a word
never see around
never hear a sound
even your innermost sound
every one obey
only little bird
brave little bird
only sing this song
poem by Sallam Yassin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A November Note
Why, throstle, do you sing
In this November haze?
Singing for what? for whom?
Deem you that it is Spring,
Or that your lonely lays
Will stave off Winter's gloom?
Then did the bird reply:
``I sing because I know
That Spring will surely come:
That is the reason why,
Though menaced by the snow,
Even now I am not dumb.
``But few are they that hear,
And fewer still that feel,
The meaning of my song,
Until the note be clear,
Re-echoed be the peal,
Early, and late, and long.
``But you have heard and owned
The sound of my refrain,
Yet tentative and low.
Thus, poet, be intoned
Your own foreshadowing strain,
Trusting that some will know:
``That some will know and say,
When greetings of the Spring
Wake Winter from its bed,
This is the self-same lay
We overheard him sing
When dead hearts deemed him dead.''
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Farewell Little Bird
Little bird,
why are you so lonely?
Did you not like your home
that I have prepared for you?
Look! it's made of gold!
Can't you see?
I have given you
the nicest place to live
because
you are so dear to me.
Little bird
please sing me a song,
the one
that I have heard from you
the day I saw you in the forest
before I made you mine.
Little bird,
why are you still lonely?
Is my heart for you
not enough?
Do you really want your life
back in the forest? ....
Little bird,
there you are!
now, spread your wings
I'm setting you free.....
Little bird,
I'd rather let you go
and see your happiness,
than keep you beside me
and see your loneliness.
Farewell little bird.
I wish
to hear your song again
......in the forest.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Little Blue Bird And The Old Man Under The Tree
and the old man with a sigh murmurs upon himself
'little bird, little bird,
how sweet is your song
how i wish i can listen
some more time'
and the little blue bird high on the tree stops to sing
and looks at the old man with pity
tweeting
'my dear old man
would you like to be a little blue bird some other time? '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Liebestraum
ripples of the clear pond
a white swan
dignified to its own interpretation
of flight
tiny leaves from cypress trees
browning
the earth still so usual to its deep
silence
the last note is played on the piano
a little bird jumps out
from my hair and begins to sing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Song Is Not Sad....
he once was a wild bird
who lives in no one's forest
always in flight
to an endless journey, until
he was caught in the cage of
civilization
where he was taught to sing
and what to sing
and when to sing the
prescribed songs
he had always been a sad black bird
for years and years and years
until he gets freed because the lock is
finally broken and the rails all turn to dust
because of rust
when he goes outside with his wings
he does not like it anymore
he forgets what he was once in the wild
he comes back
constructs and reconstructs his cage
exactly as it was once
given to him by force of circumstance
locks himself in
and then begins to sing again
do not tell me that it did not happen to you
the song is not sad.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Why Do You Sing?
A beautiful bird
Sits in the cage
And sings
Still it sings
Even after its imprisonment
And I cannot under stand why
Why do you sing your pretty song?
When you have no one but me to listen
Why do you sing your pretty song?
When your own kind is gone?
Taken from home
Domesticated and tamed
Why do you sing, beautiful bird?
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Making Lvoe With Her Own Bed
you are just near me
but between us is a door
and between that door
is another door, and so
when you say a word
i have to figure out what
you really mean,
when i open the door
there is a glass wall and
i thought it was you
humming,
it is cold tonight
i am closing a window
out there
i see a black bird perched
upon a branch,
it is cold and i am shutting
myself for any
kind of significance like
what if the bird dies?
what if the bird is you
disguised as a bird?
tonight i cannot sleep
something bothers me
all these thoughts bother me
there is no note
that you are coming back
from that long trip
away from home
was it Sarah who said
that she is making love with her bed?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Song Of Joy
as a bird on the streets
i had a natural song
which came right from my heart
in my voice
which was graced by god
as a bird on the stage
in front of a gathering
a mic frightening me
i seem to have lost my voice..yet
to keep the cheer going
iam compelled to sing a song
which is not mine
i haven't gathered a crowd
who would applaud my silence even
i sing a song without joy
to keep the cheer going
i know i don't have to try too hard
to escape the situation
i still have my wings to fly
which would take me to the meadows
a song of joy i could sing there
my soul would listen
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Karl’s Brew Café In Buhangin
You were singing the joys of your life
In a small café cramped with friends
And some just curious for your voice
And some who knew you can sing
And sing so beautifully
Like a magical bird
Like a mythical bird
Crowded you showered them with
All your love
My three friends texted
“It is sad why you are not here with us
My son danced with her song
He lifted my chair so I will dance too
And oblige to sing one of those songs
He really loved”
Tess I see enjoyed the show very well
And we heard something beautiful
“Without you”, because as you said
You are always “busy somewhere else”
It was that injustice which you did
That we cannot explain to Cynthia
Always your unexplained absence
Always your disappearing act
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!