All over the land are vast and handsome pastures, with good grass for cattle, and it strikes me the soil would be very fertile were the country inhabited and improved by reasonable people.
quote by Alvar N. C. de Vaca
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love This Land Australia
I love this Land Australia of gum and wattle tree
This vast and sunlit Continent is home from home for me
And though I come from a distant Land when I have had my day
Than underneath Australian soil where better place to lay.
I love this Land Australia home of the kangaroo
Of echidna and wombat, platypus and cockatoo
Of lorikeet and rosella, koala, possum and emu
And other unusual birds and animals as I've mentioned just a few.
I like Australian people if poor man make good they say
The man he is a battler, good on him anyway,
In Land of wedge tailed eagle there's rooom to spread one's wings
And in the lucky country the battler is a king.
I love this Land Australia it's home from home for me,
Home of the kookaburra and gum and wattle tree
And bell bird and bell magpie who through the Winter sing
A Winter oft times milder than Ireland in the Spring.
I love this Land Australia of sunshine and bird song
And with each passing day my love for this great Country grow more strong
And though I come from a distant Land when I have had my day
Than underneath Australian soil where better place to lay.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Desert
It simply strikes our mind with barren land
Love, gestures, good will and flowers in hand
Look beyond horizons and you find no friend
Eyes get tired and find nothing in the end
This is description of desert in our mind
Nothing friendly and nature too seems unkind
Sands all over with no lively movements in sight
It is nature versus human being for rightful fight
It has its own beautiful land and surroundings
Earth and sky meet present very good bonding
Sandy winds and dry climate force us to think
Eyes get widened to see vast tracks and wink
Desert has got its own source of greenery
Palm trees and sweet water present good scenery
How beautifully camel swim on sandy soil?
Relentless struggle with natural odds to toil
How can this barren land be turned into fertile?
What best we can strive and try for it meanwhile?
It is nature and human that tries to prevail upon
Foot prints on sand emerge when we follow on
Small water well in midst of soil may quench your thirst
You may think you are not the one who has traveled first
It’s deep Sand Ocean with so much mystery in its belt
More we are inching closer to it less its impact is felt
If human natures turns desolate or into desert
It has nothing to acknowledge or new ideas to insert
Love, affection and feelings have taken back seat
As if heart is there and functions but without any beats
It has no life to be witnessed or seen on the surface
Exchange no good words or feeling when see face to face
It has turned into hard stone with nothing new to offer
Person seems to be all over dead and inside coffer
It has its unusual boom and different visitor’s influx
They swarm from distant land with colorful wing and relax
All of sudden new life emerges with arrival of birds
Green pastures attract many including cattle herds
It has all qualities to absorb, refuge and shelter
Too hot windy summer and icy severe winter
To act as kind lover and meantime hostile enemy
To show the path to all with keen interest to envy
We have lot more to learn from desert environment
There is common ground for happy and sad moments
Once upon a time they would have remained hospitable
Now turning into marshy land or islands inhospitable
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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In our tabulation of psychoanalytic results, we have classed those who stopped treatment together with those not improved. This appears to be reasonable; a patient who fails to finish his treatment, and is not improved, is surely a therapeutic failure.
quote by Hans Eysenck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Native Land!
WHERE is the minstrel's native land?
Where the flames of light and feeling glow;
Where the flowers are wreathed for beauty's brow;
Where the bounding heart swells strong and high,
With holy hopes which may not die--
There is my native land!
What is that bright land's music name?
Ere it bent its neck to a foreign yoke,
It was called the land of the broad strong oak--
The land of the free--the German land--
But her sons lie slain by the stranger's hand,
And she weeps sad tears of shame.
Why does the minstrel's country weep?
That the hurricane's rage hath bowed the pride
Of those who should stem the rising tide;
That her princes quail--and that none will hear
Her holy words of might and fear--
Therefore my land must weep!
To whom does the minstrel's country call?
It calls to the silent heavenly powers,
With despair, as the thunder darkly lowers,
For its freedom--for those who should break its chain--
For the hand that never strikes in vain--
To these doth my country call!
For what does the minstrel's country sigh?
That the bloodhound may hunt beyond the bound
Of the soil which brave hearts make holy ground;
That the serf may cease; and our sons be free,
Or those who have borne them, cease to be--
For this does my country sigh!
And still doth the minstrel's country hope?
Her hope is firm, for her cause is good--
That her brave will rise, and her true in blood;
And that God the avenger, our fathers' God,
Will mark the tears that bedew her sod--
Such is my country's hope!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What good is a palace if it's inhabited by owls. Better a straw hut inhabited by humans.
Interacting Awareness
Every so often
is felt inner desire
an urge
to migrate
to city centre
focus of interaction
to touch pulse
feel heartbeat
immerse in movement
before returning
to shadow life
in solitary suburb.
On the periphery
guarding the heartseed
of dissipated land.
Lost in economics.
Best fertile productive land
worth doubles more if
for housing quick profit sold.
Best agricultural land lost
rich crops lost for ever more.
Rich rich soil so rare so rare
is true wealth of nation
build houses on worthless land.
People eat blessing of God given land
feeding people is blessing of mighty God.
To lay waste in greed to God given land
is to invite blight famine of greedy hand.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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India happens to be a rich country inhabited by very poor people.
quote by Manmohan Singh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The land is not in the least bit fertile and yet the cattle herds grow larger and larger. A cow represents capital investment here.
quote by Richard Leakey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poverty's Grass
Arrogance said
We eat Poverty's grass
As Mockery fed
Biased high class
Now the famine
The Suicide breed
Pride is the sin
Destroyed your seed
We may eat grass
But you eat the soil
Your words are brass
And now you recoil
Grass tastes better
That you must know
But Death is the bitter
Seed that you grow
Dried and barren
Your land had become
Our grass can be eaten -
Do you want some?
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Africa. A land...
Africa.
A land full of mysteries,
A land where the Gods speaks,
A land where Nature talks in secret ancestral tongues,
A land rich in Culture and Heritage,
The soil, drenched in sweat and blood
Listens to the poundings of the African feet
As they dance to the sound of patriotism.
Africa.
The land of hope and bliss,
The land of milk and honey,
The land where freedom was fought for,
The land rich in natural beauty,
The people, blessed with strength and grace
Fights for the love of their land
As they listen to the pleas of the drenched soil.
poem by Muneerah Abdulrahman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crossroads
When first I did appear upon this native soil
All up and down this country at labor I did toil
I slumbered in the moonlight and I rose with the sun
I rambled through the canyons where the cold rivers run
When first I did come down where the land meets the sea
The people said who are you and what would your name be
I said I have no home and I am no mans son
twas inland I was born and from inland that I come
In the good land I was young and I was strong
No one dared to call me son
Happy just to see my days work done
See my days work done
So I swung an axe as a timberjack
And I worked the Quebec mines
And on the golden prairie I rode the big combines
I sailed the maritime waters of many a seaport town
Built the highways and the byways to the western salmon grounds
Ive gazed upon the good times Ive seen the bad times too
Felt many a cold and bitter wind and many a mornin dew
Ive watched the country growin like a fair and mighty thing
And on the still of a summer night Ive heard the mountains ring
In the good land I was young and I was strong
No one dared to call me son
Happy just to see my days work done
See my days work done
But now the seeds are planted and the gates are open wide
The old ways are forgotten theres no place left to hide
And the legacy Im leavin you is not very hard to find
Youll see it all around you at this crossroads of time
In the sweet soil its a-growin at the crossroads of time
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Shadow
In the shadow
I live in the shadow
the shadow of the mountain
Vesuvius.
the days are warm
The soil is fertile
I grow olives and I grow
rich.
Long ago the mountain rumbled
spewing lava, pumice stone
Pliny told us of the horror
Pompeians dying in their homes.
the days are warm
The soil is fertile
I grow olives and I grow
old..
Life in good in greater Naples
We live in an expensive home
every now and then a rumble
vulcan working at his forge
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fertile Soil
One wants a friend to use him as soil
To sow in and then get a harvest from.
The one who seeks you sees you as soil.
To be a friend you must be the fertile soil.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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'Handsome' means many things to many people. If people consider me handsome, I feel flattered - and have my parents to thank for it. Realistically, it doesn't hurt to be good-looking, especially in this business.
quote by Richard Chamberlain
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Thousand Miles Away
Hurrah for the Roma railway! Hurrah for Cobb and Co.,
And oh! for a good fat horse or two to carry me Westward Ho
To carry me Westward Ho! my boys, that's where the cattle stray
On the far Barcoo, where they eat nardoo, a thousand miles away.
Chorus
Then give your horses rein across the open plain,
We'll ship our meat both sound and sweet, nor care what some folks say;
And frozen we'll send home the cattle that now roam
On the far Barcoo and the Flinders too, a thousand miles away.
Knee-deep in grass we've got to pass—for the truth I'm bound to tell
Where in three weeks the cattle get as fat as they can swell
As fat as they can swell, my boys; a thousand pounds they weigh,
On the far Barcoo, where they eat nardoo, a thousand miles away.
No Yankee hide e'er grew outside such beef as we can freeze;
No Yankee pastures make such steers as we send o'er the sea
As we send o'er the seas, my boys, a thousand pounds they weigh
From the far Barcoo, where they eat nardoo, a thousand miles away.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Side Of The River
There's no happiness this side
The river is without a tide
The soil unfertile for seed
Here grows nothing but weed.
Behold the river's other side
Soil is rich so is tide
Spreads out mile after mile
Lands rich and fertile.
I wish I were on that side
This is not the place to reside
There I could get good harvest
There I could build a happy nest.
The man on the river's other side
Finds his river without tide
Finds everything there vile
The land barren unfertile!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Sunny New South Wales
We often hear men boast about the land which gave them birth,
And each one thinks his native land the fairest spot on earth;
In beauty, riches, power, no land can his surpass;
To his, all other lands on earth cannot even hold a glass.
Now, if other people have their boasts, then, say, why should not we,
For we can drink our jovial toast and sing with three times three;
For there's not a country in the world where all that's fair prevails
As here it does in this our land, our sunny New South Wales.
Chorus
Then toast with me our happy land,
Where all that's fair prevails,
Our colour's blue and our hearts are true,
In sunny New South Wales.
Now let us take a passing glance at all that we possess.
That ours is such a wealthy land no stranger e'er would guess.
Why, we've land in store, indeed far more than ever we shall require,
And trees grow thick on every side in spite of axe and fire.
Our sheep and cattle millions count, our wool is classed A1;
In beef and mutton our fair land is not to be outdone.
Why, we've lately seen old England, who boasts her stock ne'er fails,
Has had to send for wholsome meat preserved in New South Wales.
Chorus: Then toast with me, &c.
In childhood California was to us a land of gold,
And people said its riches were so vast, immense, untold.
But time has proved that mineral wealth exists not there alone,
For New South Wales possesses gold in many, many a stone.
And when the gold is taken from out its quartzy veins
A heap of silver, copper, tin, as a residue remains.
In fact we are a mass of wealth in all our hills and dales.
There's not a country half as rich as sunny New South Wales.
Chorus: Then toast with me, &c.
Our climate's good, that all admit, our flowers are sweet and rare;
And scenes abound on every hand so marvellously fair.
Shame on the men who went away and of us wrote such lies.
Why, when Anthony Trollope came out here he nearly lost his eyes.
Our native girls are fair and good, their hearts are pure and true;
And to their colour stick like bricks, the bright Australian blue.
Some never loved a roving life, nor blest the ocean's gales;
But they bless the breeze that blew them to a life in New South Wales.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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A people that has experienced all that the Germans have been through, naturally offers fertile soil for the extremists.
quote by Gustav Stresemann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eighteenth-Nineteenth Century Verse
France is the country of poems and prose
the lovely French language tells us so.
Romantic love in classical verse
dates back to Voltaire from days long ago.
The 18th century brought poets from Paris
writing about France and the Seine,
and so many other Parisian wonders
that lie in that fertile plain.
Yes France was a country of talent
In England, Wordsworth stole the scene
whilst Coleridge, another fine English poet
wrote lyrical verse about Pastures Green.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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