I have, for many years past, contemplated the noble races of red men who are now spread over these trackless forests and boundless prairies, melting away at the approach of civilization.
quote by George Catlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Races, Horse Races?
I see the different races,
But I don't really care,
The color of the skin,
Not really my affair.
I see the different races,
And never do I stare,
I hate the mental braces,
That we all know are there,
For me there are two races,
The Good and then the Bad,
There are good Human Beings,
Then others that abuse,
The Bad harm all our Races,
And don't do us much good.
We're all brothers and sisters,
It's written in the books,
It's better to be noble,
Than just a bunch of crooks.
poem by Sandra Feldman
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Noble life demands a noble architecture for noble uses of noble men. Lack of culture means what it has always meant ignoble civilization and therefore imminent downfall.
quote by Frank Lloyd Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Noble life demands a noble architecture for noble uses of noble men. Lack of culture means what it has always meant: ignoble civilization and therefore imminent downfall.
quote by Frank Lloyd Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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America is God's Crucible, the great Melting-Pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming!
quote by Israel Zangwill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If aliens from outer space ever come and we show them our civilization and they make fun of it, we should say we were just kidding, that this isn't really our civilization, but a gag we hoped they would like. Then we tell them to come back in twenty years to see our REAL civilization. After that, we start a crash program of coming up with an impressive new civilization. Either that, or just shoot down the aliens as they're waving good-bye.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beneath, Between & Behind
Words by neil peart, music by alex lifeson
Ten score years ago, defeat the kingly foe
A wondrous dream came into being
Tame the trackless waste, no virgin land left chaste
All shining eyes, but never seeing
Beneath the noble birth
Between the proudest words
Behind the beauty, cracks appear
Once, with heads held high
They sang out to the sky
Why do their shadows bow in fear?
Watch the cities rise
Another ship arrives
Earths melting pot and ever growing
Fantastic dreams come true
Inventing something new
The greatest minds, and never knowing...
The guns replace the plow, facades are tarnished now
The principles have been betrayed
The dreamss gone stale, but still, let hope prevail
Historys debt wont be repaid
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neither you nor I
Cows breed more, deer breed more and hares breed more;
They must breed more for forests want them more.
They must feed lions, tigers and foxes
With their casualties in multitudes.
The poor breed more and the lowly breed more;
They must breed more for societies want them more
They must serve the rich, masters and leaders
With their casualties in multitudes.
Between the forests and the societies,
The difference is: forests gave no saints
Whereas the societies gave saints in chain.
No change in societies as in forests..
Who is the planer? Who can defeat him?
Who is the keeper? Who can control him?
Who is the owner? Who can approach him?
Neither you nor I can reform the world.
15.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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You, the Spirit of the Settlement ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming Here, you stand, good folk, think I, when I see them at Ellis Island, here you stand in your fifty groups, with your fifty languages and histories, and your fifty blood hatreds and rivalries...
quote by Israel Zangwill
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The New World
THE NIGHT that has no star lit up by God,
The day that round men shines who still are blind,
The earth their grave-turned feet for ages trod,
And sea swept over by His mighty wind,
All these have passed away, the melting dream
That flitted o’er the sleeper’s half-shut eye,
When touched by morning’s golden-darting beam;
And he beholds around the earth and sky
That ever real stands, the rolling shores
And heaving billows of the boundless main,
That show, though time is past, no trace of years.
And earth restored he sees as his again,
The earth that fades not and the heavens that stand,
Their strong foundations laid by God’s right hand.
poem by Jones Very
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The Ancient India
India is ample known
For its three thousand year old
Civilization brought in by Aryans,
Who invaded as nomads.
It is little known for its prior
Civilization lived by Dravidians
In Mohanjo daro and Harappa,
About five thousand years ago.
It is little known at all
For its ten thousand year old
Civilization planted
By Mundas and Santals,
Now tribes on hillocks,
Branded the most backward.
18.07.2000, Plkmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The contribution of Islam to history and modern civilization is the product of the efforts of peoples of many races and tongues which came to accept its way of life.
Race wasn't an issue. My family was French, but Yorkville was a melting pot of races and cultures.
End Of All Things
Every city has its history.
History of great wars!
History of great works!
What makes a civilization great
Are the noble thoughts of noble men.
Savages are killed
And the empires built!
Draping of huge towers and artistic halls
Decorate the ageing
Frame of the ever-growing city.
Ballads are sung
For great many victories and achievements
Of great many kings!
But no one cares
To sing an Elegy
Of love lost
In the busy alleys
Of the towering cities!
Today,
Things worth nothing are everything.
People known since ages are now unknown.
Thoughts like parasites
Thrive on the dying emotions of heart.
Churches are libraries of knowledge.
And Bible just a fiction.
Man has ceased to live.
Only thing that he does is ‘EXISTS.’
His creations are the prophecies of his fall!
Civilization is built
On the debris of Barbarism.
It grows.
It develops.
And it culminates
To nothing but debris.
Because the highest peak
Of every civilization is Barbarism!
End of all things!
poem by Aditya Chandrasen Salvi
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Melting Pot
I met my girl
She was living in the melting pot
I touched her skin
It was greasy from the melting pot
Get yourself a weapon
Cause they slice you up in the melting pot
Well, I dont really have time to talk
But I wish you lots of luck in the melting pot
Chorus:
And in the end its always just some game
The heartbreak and laughter has all been in vain
Beat up and lied to
For your whole life
Kick you in the head
In the melting pot
The hewks live upstairs
Where the air is clean in the melting pot
They like to swoop down
And gnaw an your brain in the melting pot
Money, sex and power
Jerk you off in the backseat of the melting pot
Then they say I saw you last night
And you sure were looking sweet in the melting pot
Chorus:
And in the end its always just some game
The heartbreak and laughter has all been in vain
Beat up and lied to
For your whole life
Kick you in the head
In the melting pot
Theyd like to buy you off
If they possibly can in the melting pot
With temptation, dreams and persuasion
Thats what they got in the melting pot
Keep you bleeding, begging and snotty here
In the melting pot
Well, dont you dare laughting out loud
Theyll take away what you got
In the melting pot
Chorus:
And in the end its always just some game
The heartbreak and laughter has all been in vain
Beat up and lied to
For your whole life
Kick you in the head
In the melting pot
song performed by by John Mellencamp
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Before we can build a stable civilization worthy of humanity as a whole, it is necessary that each historical civilization should become conscious of its limitations and it's unworthiness to become the ideal civilization of the world.
quote by Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The development of civilization and industry in general has always shown itself so active in the destruction of forests that everything that has been done for their conservation and production is completely insignificant in comparison.
Time Tomorrow Swift Flows
time tomorrow swift flows
into yesterday yesteryears
time races swirls ebbs flows
tomorrow recent past becomes
time going going gone becomes
today long years long past becomes
poem by Terence George Craddock
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How Long?
How long, and yet how long,
Our leaders will we hail from over seas,
Master and kings from feudal monarchies,
And mock their ancient song
With echoes weak of foreign melodies?
That distant isle mist-wreathed,
Mantled in unimaginable green,
Too long hath been our mistress and our queen.
Our fathers have bequeathed
Too deep a love for her, our hearts within.
She made the whole world ring
With the brave exploits of her children strong,
And with the matchless music of her song.
Too late, too late we cling
To alien legends, and their strains prolong.
This fresh young world I see,
With heroes, cities, legends of her own;
With a new race of men, and overblown
By winds from sea to sea,
Decked with the majesty of every zone.
I see the glittering tops
Of snow-peaked mounts, the wid'ning vale's expanse,
Large prairies where free herds of horses prance,
Exhaustless wealth of crops,
In vast, magnificent extravagance.
These grand, exuberant plains,
These stately rivers, each with many a mouth,
The exquisite beauty of the soft-aired south,
The boundless seas of grains,
Luxuriant forests' lush and splendid growth.
The distant siren-song
Of the green island in the eastern sea,
Is not the lay for this new chivalry.
It is not free and strong
To chant on prairies 'neath this brilliant sky.
The echo faints and fails;
It suiteth not, upon this western plain,
Out voice or spirit; we should stir again
The wilderness, and make the vales
Resound unto a yet unheard-of strain.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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On my return to Pittsburgh, I resolved to go back to the fundamental problems of electronic structure that I had contemplated abstractly many years earlier.
quote by John Pople
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Emigrant’s Address To America
All hail to thee, noble and generous Land!
With thy prairies boundless and wide,
Thy mountains that tower like sentinels grand,
Thy lakes and thy rivers of pride!
Thy forests that hide in their dim haunted shades
New flowers of loveliness rare—
Thy fairy like dells and thy bright golden glades,
Thy warm skies as Italy’s fair.
Here Plenty has lovingly smiled on the soil,
And ’neath her sweet, merciful reign
The brave and long suff’ring children of toil
Need labor no longer in vain.
I ask of thee shelter from lawless harm,
Food—raiment—and promise thee now,
In return, the toil of a stalwart arm,
And the sweat of an honest brow.
But think not, I pray, that this heart is bereft
Of fond recollections of home;
That I e’er can forget the dear land I have left
In the new one to which I have come.
Oh no! far away in my own sunny isle
Is a spot my affection worth,
And though dear are the scenes that around me now smile,
More dear is the place of my birth!
There hedges of hawthorn scent the sweet air,
And, thick as the stars of the night,
The daisy and primrose, with flow’rets as fair,
Gem that soil of soft verdurous light.
And there points the spire of my own village church,
That long has braved time’s iron power,
With its bright glitt’ring cross and ivy wreathed porch—
Sure refuge in sorrow’s dark hour!
Whilst memory lasts think not e’er from this breast
Can pass the fond thoughts of my home:
No! I ne’er can forget the land I have left
In the new one to which I have come!
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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