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Borne On The Wind
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind
Between the sunset and the dawn.
So tenderly your memory
Lingers with me on and on
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind
You are still with me it seems
A life to live, a love to give,
And you will live in my dreams.
You don't love me,
But you love for me to be in love with you.
You led me on,lured me on
But when i fell you were gone.
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind,
Now a song in my heart.
A soft refrain you will remain
To live again and again
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born On The Wind
(orbison/dees)
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind
Between the sunset and the dawn.
So tenderly your memory
Lingers with me on and on
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind
You are still with me it seems
A life to live, a love to give,
And you will live in my dreams.
You dont love me,
But you love for me to be in love with you.
You lured me on,led me on
But when I fell you were gone.
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind,
Now a song in my heart.
A soft refrain you will remain
To live in my heart again
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind,
Borne on the wind.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode 300: Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
From: Book of Ode
Period: Spring and Autumn
Dynasty: Eastern Zhou
Section: Songs of Wei State
(Collected by Confucius)
Translated by Laijon Liu (2007.08.14)
Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who forgot his home and course.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And why he refuses to come into my room?
Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who forgot my love and grace.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
Why he leaves me alone in my empty room?
Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who lost his honor and Heaven’s bliss.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And I should forget him, away with sorrow.
Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
You rise from east with shining rays.
Ah- my daddy and my mommy,
My husband loves me no more.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And I will not suffer in sorrow any more!
Note:
The poet may be a young and just married wife lived in State of Wei. She complained about her husband that stopped loving her. And she eventually thinks wisely that “Anyway he does not keep his vow, so she gives up her sorrow, or maybe seeks a new beginning.”
From:
http: //laijonliu.blogspot.com/
poem by Laijon Liu
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To have a grievance is to have a purpose in life.
quote by Alen Coren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A grievance is most poignant when almost redressed.
quote by Eric Hoffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry is about the grief. Politics is about the grievance.
quote by Robert Frost
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of course I'd have loved to be Prime Minister. But I'm not nursing a grievance.
quote by Kenneth Clarke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am committed to the principle that violence is never justified as a means of ameliorating a grievance.
quote by Justin Sane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let me say this as clearly as I can: No matter how sharp a grievance or how deep a hurt, there is no justification for killing innocents.
quote by Bill Clinton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Senses
The words were broken into sounds
And the time was cracked in seconds.
The seconds were dismantled slowly.
I grasped my love and I laid it in remembrance,
I grasped my remembrance and I laid it in grievance,
I grasped my grievance and I laid it in reason,
I grasped my reason and I laid it in self,
I grasped myself and I stepped into the light,
I grasped the light and I laid it over the candle wax.
The candle dropped the light.
In the light, the sense of life became clear.
I grasped the sense of life and I laid it over the sense of death.
In this sense of life and death you laid
The seconds, which were dismantled.
They melted in pieces of eternity.
I took those pieces and I gave them to The Lord.
I gave love your name.
I grasped my love and I laid it in remembrance
And I heard the empty bell ringing in the sky.
The bell would ring for someone else,
But I remembered you
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The receiver decides the hurt.
The hurt hurled at one, when borne with toughness
Or with compassion, will have little impact
Like that of an axe falling on a rock
Or in the water instead of the wood.
The hurt hurled at one, when borne with smoothness
Or with emotion, will have deep impact
Like that of a knife falling on a cock
Or in the butter instead of the floor.
12.02.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Passionate hatred can give meaning and purpose to an empty life. Thus people haunted by the purposelessness of their lives try to find a new content not only by dedicating themselves to a holy cause but also by nursing a fanatical grievance. A mass movement offers them unlimited opportunities for both.
quote by Eric Hoffer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passionate hatred can give meaning and purpose to an empty life. Thus people haunted by the purposelessness of their lives try to find a new content not only by dedicating themselves to a holy cause but also by nursing a fanatical grievance. A mass movement offers them unlimited opportunities for both.
quote by Eric Hoffer
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Conception
Unearthed-once buried-hopes lived...
Soon to be borne into the light...
A Gift of God was presented to us...
Bringing much joy into our hearts and sight;
A magical-perfectly timed moment--
When two-a man-a woman became one...
God was watching and was very pleased...
Leading to conception when the day was done;
A tiny miracle embraced in our arms---
A babe wrapped in gossemer and down-
A gift most supreme and a hope filled dream...
A son was borne in Seattle town;
May 18,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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To H.L.S.
I WANDERED on a lonely quest;
And deep within a dark forést
That lightened upward to the sky
A maiden, with her head borne high,
Went lightly by.
A bending shape, a glancing eye,
Long slender limbs borne maidenly,
Bound golden hair, — she trembled lest
She fright the butterfly at rest
On either breast.
So she went on into the west
Beyond the dark-green, dim forést
That fell to blackness — all the sky
Closed down, — when on my lips felt I
A butterfly!
poem by Philip Henry Savage
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Uncertainty
The sound
Touching lips
Mutual interpenetration
Grievance
Self forgetting
For a moment
I had to be yours for sure
Perhaps happiness
Uncertain love
Indefinite intercourse
Hesitant submissiveness
Insecure thrills
We could not have done
Probably
Otherwise
I search you
Certainly
Again
No doubt,
I do not find you
Indubitably
The violin strings
And the piano keyboards
Can play
The same
Song
Variably
They play differently
The sound
poem by Marieta Maglas
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A Wet Season
The rain is fierce, it flogs the earth,
And man's in danger.
O that my mother at my birth
Had borne a stranger!
The flooded ground is all around.
The depth uncommon.
How blest I'd be if only she
Had borne a salmon.
If still denied the solar glow
'T were bliss ecstatic
To be amphibious-but O,
To be aquatic!
We're worms, men say, o' the dust, and they
That faith are firm of.
O, then, be just: show me some dust
To be a worm of.
The pines are chanting overhead
A psalm uncheering.
It's O, to have been for ages dead
And hard of hearing!
Restore, ye Pow'rs, the last bright hours
The dial reckoned;
'Twas in the time of Egypt's prime
Rameses II.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Almsgiving tends to perpetuate poverty aid does away with it once and for all. Almsgiving leaves a man just where he was before. Aid restores him to society as an individual worthy of all respect and not as a man with a grievance. Almsgiving is the generosity of the rich social aid levels up social inequalities. Charity separates the rich from the poor aid raises the needy and sets him on the same level with the rich.
Not Heat Flames Up And Consumes
NOT heat flames up and consumes,
Not sea-waves hurry in and out,
Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears
lightly along white down-balls of myriads of seeds,
Wafted, sailing gracefully, to drop where they may;
Not these--O none of these, more than the flames of me, consuming,
burning for his love whom I love!
O none, more than I, hurrying in and out:
--Does the tide hurry, seeking something, and never give up? O I the
same;
O nor down-balls, nor perfumes, nor the high, rain-emitting clouds,
are borne through the open air,
Any more than my Soul is borne through the open air,
Wafted in all directions, O love, for friendship, for you. 10
poem by Walt Whitman
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