Millers, tailors, and weavers are not hanged, or the trade would soon be extinct.
Related quotes
A hundred tailors, a hundred millers, and a hundred weavers make three hundred thieves.
A hundred tailors, a hundred millers, and a hundred weavers, are three hundred thieves.
A hundred bakers, a hundred millers, and a hundred tailors are three hundred thieves.
Millers Angels
Millers angels in black and white
Welcome everyone in
Children dreaming of wrong and right
Wrapped in grace and in sin
They come out of the blue sky
They come out of the blue
They come out of the blue sky
But you never know where theyre gonna go
Hey romeo
Millers fingers are traveling down the length of her thigh
But millers mind is still wandering
Staring up at the sky
They come out of the blue sky
They come out of the blue
They come out of the blue sky
But you never know where theyre gonna go
Hey romeo
Dont, dont come around here
Millers angels are hovering in between the earth and the sun
In the shadow of gods unwavering love
I am a fortunate son
They come out of the blue sky
They come out of the blue
They come out of the blue sky
But you never know where theyre gonna go
Hey romeo
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To save from extinction
Species have gone extinct.
Languages have gone extinct.
Religions have gone extinct.
Arts and customs followed suit.
To save them from extinction
Is to save Past from Present.
25.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Indian Weavers
WEAVERS, weaving at break of day,
Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . .
Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild,
We weave the robes of a new-born child.
Weavers, weaving at fall of night,
Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . .
Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green,
We weave the marriage-veils of a queen.
Weavers, weaving solemn and still,
What do you weave in the moonlight chill? . . .
White as a feather and white as a cloud,
We weave a dead man's funeral shroud.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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The intermediate halt
A bough dead, the tree is not dead.
A tree dead, its species is not dead.
When the species is extinct
Its family, when the family is extinct
Its order and when the order is extinct
The plant kingdom is not extinct.
As long as there is life force,
The death is intermediate halt.
11.09.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Fairy Tale Time
Man is extinct
Monotone of cruelty breaks
Trees rejoice
The noises die
Songs of nature
Awaken
And echo gently
It’s a fairy tale time.
Man is extinct
Water-falls are happy
Jumping and falling
In merriment
Over pure rocks
No careless plastic covers
To choke the fishes
It’s a fairy tale time.
Man is extinct
Smell of woods
Warmth of sunlight
Light up every moment
Wheels are stand-still
It’s a fairy-tale time.
Man is extinct
Stars shine
Nature sleeps
And all its riches
No soul can steal
It’s a fairy-tale time.
Man is extinct
Seasons come and go
Through peaceful times
No gun shots
No war
No helpless cries
No haunting fears
Oh! Yes.
It’s a fairy tale time.
Man is extinct
He chose to plunder, not abide
And thus his death was so befitting
Ending by his own committing
Universal suicide.
poem by Roopa Menon
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Cleverness is the self destruction.
Ordovician Era was extinct
some 450 million years ago.
Devonian Era was extinct
some 350 million years ago.
Late Triassic Era was extinct
some 190 million years ago.
For destruction and extinction
The cause is not elucidated.
I am sure the human is the cause
for the end of Late Cretaceous
Era,65 million years old.
What is the use of wisdom
and his conquest of the world
save that it hastens the end?
25.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Millers take ay the best Multar with their own Hand.
When the millers are making an uproar, do you tie up your sacks.
Interwoven Changes
from spiritual sphere
vibrating perfection
heightened plane
radiating enlightenment
come skilled weavers
cultivating choice workmanship
surrogate forefathers weave
substitute artisan transition
come weavers who
sanction chosen
pious path divining
difficult diffuse
deifying interwoven
soul shaping changes
guardians investing
cerebellum corporeal beauty
redusting
waning world
with stardust
breathing
resonant life
back into
dead works
made manifest
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Let's Trade!
let's trade bullets for nails,
and bombs for boards,
and build houses for those without shelter!
let's trade anger for listening,
and aggression for compassion,
and realize no one owns this earth!
let's trade religion for humanity,
and salvation for community,
and walk the path of redemption!
let's trade success for inner peace,
the need to have for the need to give,
and so fulfill our destinies!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Tradewinds
(macdonald / salter)
Here I stand looking, looking around me
While all around me what do I see
Unhappy faces behind a painted smile
Heartache and loneliness dressed up in modern style
Unhappy people living in sin and shame
Reflections of myself, life is no easy game
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Here I stand looking, looking around me
While all around me what do I see
Young girls wholl soon become
Streetwalkers in the night
Young boys, the restless breed
Looking for a fight
Children both rich and poor
Theyre searching for the truth
If they dont find it
God help tomorrows youth
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Trade winds are blowing, blowing around me
While all around me what do I see
Hatred and jealousy
Brotherhood is dying
Love is the answer
But nobodys buying
Good people turning bad
Some dont but they are few
The winds are blowing
The choice is all up to you
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Yes were caught up in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
We are riding on the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Millers and bakers do not steal, people bring to them.
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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Ye breed of the Millers dog, ye lick your lips ere the poke be open.
Ballade of the hours of night
Our love had bloomed fully
when naked you came to me
with a small towel covering you,
when it fell from your body
and your eyes caught mine glittering,
when silence hanged luring between us.
There was a kind of hunger and thirst in me,
when your lips found mine,
with your hair braiding through my fingers
when the alarm slowly counted the time
and we both were longing for something eternal,
when silence hanged luring between us.
Like falling rain was the smell of us both
on the big old fluffy blanket
with your legs and arms crossed over me,
when my heartbeats sounded in my ears,
and there was a much deeper more intense urge
when silence hanged luring between us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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VALE RONALD RYAN (Febuary 1976)
Ronald Ryan was the last person hanged in Victoria.
Shortly after hanging was abolished in Australia.
The barbarism of the procedure,
worse than any Greek tragedy.
No, this wasn't theatre,
this was murder!
We hanged a man to satisfy
a drunken premier's whim.
Therefore the sin of omission
rests with him;
Not the man who pulled the lever.
poem by Jerry Hughes
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The biggest trade that Germany and Britain had was with each other, in the prewar period; I think I'm right in that. Two highly industrialized nations had the most trade with each other, and it wasn't tariff policies alone that made trade relations better for both of them.
quote by W. Averell Harriman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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