Five miles meandering with mazy motion,Through dale the sacred river ran,Then reached the caverns measureless to man,And sank the tumult to a lifeless oceanAnd 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from farAncestral voices prophesying war
quote by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kubla Khan
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Xanadu
To seek the sacred river alph
To walk the caves of ice
To break my fast on honey dew
And drink the milk of paradise....
I had heard the whispered tales
Of immortality
The deepest mystery
From an ancient book. I took a clue
I scaled the frozen mountain tops
Of eastern lands unknown
Time and man alone
Searching for the lost ---- xanadu
Xanadu ---- to stand within the pleasure dome
Decreed by kubla khan
To taste anew the fruits of life
The last immortal man
To find the sacred river alph
To walk the caves of ice
Oh, I will dine on honey dew
And drink the milk of paradise
A thousand years have come and gone
But time has passed me by
Stars stopped in the sky
Frozen in an everlasting view
Waiting for the world to end
Weary of the night
Praying for the light
Prison of the lost ---- xanadu
Xanadu ---- held within the pleasure dome
Decreed by kubla khan
To taste my bitter triumph
As a mad immortal man
Nevermore shall I return
Escape these caves of ice
For I have dined on honey dew
And drunk the milk of paradise
More than paradise
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've Heard the Rushing
I’ve heard the rushing of mountain torrents, gushing
Down through the rocks, in a cataract of spray,
Onward to the ocean;
Swift seemed their motion,
Till, lost in the desert, they dwindled away.
I’ve learnt the story of all human glory,
I’ve felt high resolves growing weaker every day,
Till cares, springing round me,
With creeping tendrils bound me,
And all I once hoped for was wearing fast away.
I’ve seen the river rolling on for ever,
Silent and strong, without tumult or display.
In the desert arid,
Its waters never tarried,
Till far out at sea we still found them on their way.
Now no more weary we faint in deserts dreary,
Toiling alone till the closing of the day;
All now is righted,
Our souls flow on united,
Till the years and their sorrows have all died away.
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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All through the night, like the tumult of a river when it races between the cliffs of a canyon, in my sleep I could hear the steady roar of the passing army.
quote by Richard Harding Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miles and miles of here and there
MILES and miles of here and there
Our eager river forced its way,
Bent to be it knew not where.
It had no rest in delay;
And for its haste it had no aim;
Wherefore go? But wherefore stay?
Here and there led both the same;
By any winding it could make
Near its secret goal it came.
When it reached the crystal lake
It knew its aim and found its rest;
All the miles were for love's sake.
Mid the blue hills of the west
Our river lies in the lake's breast.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Great were the lamentation and the cry when the news of this mischance was noised about the city. Such a tumult of mourning was never before heard, for the whole city was moved.
quote by Marie de France
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Deserted River
THE river is complete nude,
no water or a stream,
no birds which flies around,
no beast animal visit to quench its thirst,
the boat half sank in the sand,
the boater left the bank,
the edges of river disappered,
no soul around,
the river is deserted till miles,
slowly the black clouds appeared,
suddenly it disapperaed,
the river dies a lonely death.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
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This Month Messiah
I'm just a pilgrim here looking for holy ground
I'm just a body lost but my soul can be found
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I don't know where to turn when answers all fade clear
But I must find a place there's only questions here
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I feel...feel like I'm on trial
Who made a judge of you
Are you this month's messiah
I am a fightin' man tired of living under the gun
But am I looking for love or am I looking to run
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I heard...I heard it on the wire
That it's all up to you
Are you this month's messiah
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Months Messiah
Im just a pilgrim here looking for holy ground
Im just a body lost but my soul can be found
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I dont know where to turn when answers all fade clear
But I must find a place theres only questions here
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I feel...feel like Im on trial
Who made a judge of you
Are you this months messiah
I am a fightin man tired of living under the gun
But am I looking for love or am I looking to run
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
I heard...i heard it on the wire
That its all up to you
Are you this months messiah
How many miles to go
How many miles to babylon
(mccafferty, agnew, charlton, sweet)
1984 fool circle music
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take On The World
You got to leave your seat, you gotta get up upon your feet,
Youre gonna move ya to the rhythm till you never can stop.
We got the power, we got the music, and you bet that you can use it,
Were gonna take rock-bottom, were gonna take it to the top.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Move a little nearer, you know you gotta follow your leaders,
As we need you, like you need us for sure.
Were gonna drive you, were gonna ride you,
Were gonna get right inside you,
And if you wanna keep going, just shout out for more!
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Sing your song, well listen to you.
Sing your song, the spotlights are you.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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River Of Tears
Its three miles to the river
That would carry me away,
And two miles to the dusty street
That I saw you on today.
Its four miles to my lonely room
Where I will hide my face,
And about half a mile to the downtown bar
That I ran from in disgrace.
Lord, how long have I got to keep on running,
Seven hours, seven days or seven years?
All I know is, since youve been gone
I feel like Im drowning in a river,
Drowning in a river of tears.
Drowning in a river.
Feel like Im drowning,
Drowning in a river.
In three more days, Ill leave this town
And disappear without a trace.
A year from now, maybe settle down
Where no one knows my face.
I wish that I could hold you
One more time to ease the pain,
But my times run out and I got to go,
Got to run away again.
Still I catch myself thinking,
One day Ill find my way back here.
Youll save me from drowning,
Drowning in a river,
Drowning in a river of tears.
Drowning in a river.
Feels like Im drowning,
Drowning in the river.
Lord, how long must this go on?
Drowning in a river,
Drowning in a river of tears.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This one for Hanque with thanks
All around the world,
poems are talking among themselves
when the books are shut,
when the computers are switched off,
when old-fashioned poets put down
chewed pencils, sucked ballpens,
lips a little stained with the flavour
of ink that’s washable or permanent;
poems talking among themselves
in that language that poems understand,
that poets seek to write;
poems murmuring, complaining,
sometimes shouting desperately,
who are these people who
have dared to speak our language? What
is their right and reason? When
did they arise? Where
did they get their ideas? Why
do they even try? How
do they hope to improve on this? What
is a poet, anyway?
The tumult of their languages,
the babel of upraised voices
speaking, though, with that unutterable
beauty of that sound which can really act,
can change the world of change,
can touch the heart for lifetimes,
melts a heart of stone,
brings tears to eyes needful of tears,
opens clouds to blue sky and to sunlight,
watches angels as they ascend and descend,
speaks of, speaks,
the unknown, formless, eternal, ever present –
the tumult dies down; in the
silence and the stillness,
only the pure sound of sound itself; and
in that sound the absolution:
forgive them, O Muse of Poetry:
they know not what they do..
yet in their hearts, they know
what must be said.
The pain, exquisite;
found worthy; loved.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Here and There
'HERE'
Soft benediction of September sun;
Voices of children, laughing as they run;
Green English lawns, bright flowers and butterflies;
And over all the blue embracing skies.
'THERE'
Tumult and roaring of the incessant gun;
Dead men and dying, trenches lost and won;
Blood, mud, and havoc, bugles, shoutings, cries;
And over all the blue embracing skies.
poem by Francis William Bourdillon
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The School Where I Studied
I passed by the school where I studied as a boy
and said in my heart: here I learned certain things
and didn't learn others. All my life I have loved in vain
the things I didn't learn. I am filled with knowledge,
I know all about the flowering of the tree of knowledge,
the shape of its leaves, the function of its root system, its pests and parasites.
I'm an expert on the botany of good and evil,
I'm still studying it, I'll go on studying till the day I die.
I stood near the school building and looked in. This is the room
where we sat and learned. The windows of a classroom always open
to the future, but in our innocence we thought it was only landscape
we were seeing from the window.
The schoolyard was narrow, paved with large stones.
I remember the brief tumult of the two of us
near the rickety steps, the tumult
that was the beginning of a first great love.
Now it outlives us, as if in a museum,
like everything else in Jerusalem.
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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Paradise Blessed
Rippling blue, sky's reflection,
Sea and river, winds direction.
Water lapping, briskly flowing,
Twinkling facets, motion growing.
Sunshine glinting, sparkling array,
Shining sunbeams, jewelled ballet.
Waves disturbing, turning grey,
Lightning flashes, sparks ricochet.
Gloom descending, thunder cracks,
Whipping twister, storm attacks.
Lashing downpour, terror felt,
Endless tumult, hailstones pelt.
Calmness gathers, squall complies,
Raindrops ceasing, uproar dies.
Gentle breezes, warming air,
Peaceful nature, silence rare.
Azure welkin, zephyr caressed,
Abundant freshness, paradise blessed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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I first got involved in theater in 1968, at the height of a social tumult. I was a poet.
quote by August Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How M'Ginnis went missing
Let us cease our idle chatter,
Let the tears bedew our cheek,
For a man from Tallangatta
Has been missing for a week.
Where the roaring flooded Murray
Covered all the lower land,
There he started in a hurry,
With a bottle in his hand.
And his fate is hid for ever,
But the public seem to think
That he slumbered by the river,
'Neath the influence of drink.
And they scarcely seem to wonder
That the river, wide and deep,
Never woke him with its thunder,
Never stirred him in his sleep.
As the crashing logs came sweeping,
And their tumult filled the air,
Then M'Ginnis murmured, sleeping,
`'Tis a wake in ould Kildare.'
So the river rose and found him
Sleeping softly by the stream,
And the cruel waters drowned him
Ere he wakened from his dream.
And the blossom-tufted wattle,
Blooming brightly on the lea,
Saw M'Ginnis and the bottle
Going drifting out to sea.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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In stirring up tumult and strife, the worst men can do the most, but peace and quiet cannot be established without virtue.
quote by Cornelius Tacitus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And yet a little tumult, now and then, is an agreeable quickener of sensation such as a revolution, a battle, or an adventure of any lively description.
In the tumult of men and events, solitude was my temptation; now it is my friend. What other satisfaction can be sought once you have confronted History?
quote by Charles de Gaulle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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