The white men told lies for each other. They drove off a great many of our cattle. Some branded our young cattle so they could claim them.
quote by Chief Joseph
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Joe The Black Cattle Dog
Old Joe the black cattle dog has known a better day
Around his jaws he is looking rather gray
He still works cattle but at a much slower pace
A young dog is being trained to take his place,
Old Joe a great cattle dog from a great working line
Is getting old for working cattle at nine
Though still keen to work nowadays he easily tire
The old legs tiring though he still has the desire
To work at cattle but his owner Jimmy say
That Joe is nearing his final working day
He will retire him he has done enough
At his age working cattle for him is too tough
He was a renowned working dog in his prime
But dog and master must bow to father time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cattle Call
(tex owens)
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Woo - hoo - ooo - oop - I - de - de
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Yod-el - od-el- lo - ti - de.
The cattle are prowlin the coyotes are howlin
Way out where the dogies bawl
Where spurs are a-jinglin, a cowboy is singin
This lonesome cattle call.
He rides in the sun til his days work is done
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Singin his cattle call.
For hours he will ride on the range far and wide
When the night winds blow up a squall
His heart is a feather in all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call.
Hes brown as a berry from ridin the prairie
And he sings with an ol western drawl
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Singin his cattle call.
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cattle Call
Cattle Call
(sung by Elvis in concerts of the 1950s)
[In der mir vorliegenden Version summt er nur die Melodie.]
(Tex Owens)
The cattle are prowlin' and the coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the dogies bawl
Where spurs are a-jinglin' a cowboy is singin'
This lonesome cattle call
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo
He rides in the sun, till his days work is done
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Singin' his cattle call.
For hours he will ride on the range far and wide
When the night wind blows up a squall
His heart is a feather in all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo
He's brown as a berry from ridin' the prairie
And sings with an ol' western drawl
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Singin' his cattle call
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cattle Call (feat. Eddy Arnold)
[LEANN]
[Yodels]
The cattle are prowlin'
The coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the doggies roam
Where the spurs are a jinglin'
And the cowboy is singin'
His lonesome cattle call
[Yodels]
He rides in the sun
'Til his days work is done,
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
[Yodels]
Singing his cattle call
[EDDY]
For hours he would ride
On the range far and wide
When the night winds blows up like smoke
His heart is a feather
In all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call
[Yodels]
He's browned as a fairy
From riding the prairie
And he sings with an old western drawl
[Yodels]
Singin' his cattle call
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Selfishness
To grow crops, rear cattle,
Keep hives and run poultry
Aren’t branded as selfish.
To do so on fellow men
Is branded as selfish.
Nothing is immoral
When with other than men.
19.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If people suspect their Cattle Bewitched, if they be great Cattle, make the twelfth house their ascendant, and the eleventh their twelfth house, and vary your Rules with Judgment.
quote by William Lilly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Llano Vaqueros
Padilla unloads mangy herd of Mexican
cattle in the field.
Meaner, horns long and sharp
for bloody battle, lean from a diet
of prairie weed, looking more
like cattle did years ago
on the plains
than cattle now–
sluggish, pampered globs
stalled year round
for State Fair Judges to admire,
stall-salon dolls, hooves manicured
and polished, hide-hair blow-dried, lips
and lashes waxed.
I ride down the dirt road
on Sunshine (my bay mare)
and she smarts
away from their disdainful glare–
come in, try to lasso us,
try to comb our hair.
I admire my ancestors, llano vaqueros,
who flicked a home-made cigarette in dust,
spit in scuffed gloves, grabbed one
by the horns, wrestled it down,
branded it, with the same pleasure
they enjoyed in a bunk-house brawl.
poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But if cattle and horses or lions had hands, or were able to draw with their hands and do the work that men can do, horses would draw the forms of the gods like horses, and cattle like cattle, and they would make their bodies such as they each had themselves.
quote by Xenophanes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our revered Cattle
In our country oxen are used to plough,
And man declares, "the animals, we love"!
After harvest man gathers the grains to eat,
And offers the hay to the animal as a treat.
Man collects the cotton from the tree,
And the seeds he presents to the cattle for free.
Before cooking the grains he washes it with water,
And that is the cattle's drinking water.
Their milk meant for the calves are for man,
And he produces milk products as much as he can;
From it he makes yoghurt and sells it in a can,
He stirs the milk and retrieves butter on a pan.
When butter is melt, the aromatic ghee is got,
With ghee, delicious sweets are made and brought;
In villages cow-dung cakes are largely used,
With which glowing fire is instantly infused.
Cow-dung aids in the cleaning the floor off bacteria—
So are the many merits of cattle—is man's idea!
Man, the human is of no use to the cattle,
But they willingly serve us—let us revere the cattle!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drovers Twain
WHERE was no shadow on the land,
No cloud in heaven's dome,
When, bearded man and beardless boy,
Our hearts alight with morning joy,
Across the hills of Duckmaloi
We drove the cattle home.
The sunrays danced a merry jig
On grass and bracken brown;
And right and left, and left and right,
The magpies piped in sheer delight,
As over creekside flat and height
We drove the cattle down.
With fiery eyes and tossing horns,
And swaying sides and hips,
They moved — red hides and hides of black —
And ever, as they left the track,
We wheeled, and held, and drove them back
With shouts and cracking whips.
There is no joy in all the world
Of such a bloom and blush
As that the charging rider feels
When at some frenzied scrubber's heels,
His stockwhip making curves and wheels,
He thunders through the bush.
Knees gripping hard, he dashes on,
The swift wind in his hair;
Whate'er befall, whate'er betide,
All thought of peril thrust aside,
He feels the glory and the pride
Of those who finely dare.
The moving mob was mountain-reared
And mountain-bred and born,
Their hides of brand and marking clear —
As shy as deer, as swift as deer
Who over heath and highland hear
The huntsman's early horn.
And yet with dog and spur and whip,
Our horses flaked with foam,
The magpies singing all the while,
Through hour and hour and mile and mile,
For all their speed of hoof and guile,
We brought the cattle home.
A score of years has passed away,
Slow filing on, since then;
And Time, who knows no sparing ruth,
And Wisdom, armed with bitter truth,
Have tamed the heart of reckless youth
And greyed the beards of men.
Yet evermore, when cattle low
Across the bracken brown,
I see again that man and boy
As when, alight with morning joy,
Across the hills of Duckmaloi
They drove the cattle down.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cuppacumalonga
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, where go you to-day?'
I go to Cuppacumalomga, fifty miles away;
Over plains where Summer rains have sung a song of glee,
Over hills where laughing rills go seeking for the sea,
I go to Cuppacumalonga, to my brother Bill.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, how do you get there?'
For twenty miles I amble on upon my pony mare,
The walk awhile and talk awhile to country men I know,
Then up to ride a mile beside a team that travels slow,
And last to Cuppacumalonga, riding with a will.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, what do you do then?'
I camp beneath a kurrajong with three good cattle-men;
Then off away at break of day, with strong hands on the reins,
To laugh and sing while mustering the cattle on the plains -
For up to Cuppacumalonga life is jolly still.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, how may I go too?'
I'll saddle up my creamy colt and he shall carry you -
My creamy colt who will not bolt, who does not shy nor kick -
We'll pack the load and take the road and travel very quick.
And if the day brings work or play we'll meet it with a will.
So Hi for Cuppacumalonga!
Come Along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cattle Call
[LEANN]
[Yodels]
The cattle are prowlin'
The coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the doggies roam
Where the spurs are a jinglin'
And the cowboy is singin'
His lonesome cattle call
[Yodels]
He rides in the sun
'Til his days work is done
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes from Blue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love and Slaughter
Sheep are by a goat while
cattle are like swine, prodded, yet
cattle go by hammer while
swine are by the hind leg hung
then swung about to spigot.
Quicker, infinitely cleaner, is
the hacksaw of sweet Susan's laughter.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Storm
Cattle egrets in the dry grass waded
like white clerics at the hooves
of brood cows, heifers, and new calves.
Forked lightning. Calm.
The darkness in the cattle tank welled up
and flooded the reflection of the trees.
Turkey vultures wheeled, and wheeled away.
No swifts, no swallows, children gone indoors.
Rain seethed into the willowtops,
sky flashing, while the black bull
under the water locust glowed
with an inward surge of darkness
poem by Brooks Haxton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sands Of Dee
"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee";
The western wind was wild and dank with foam,
And all alone went she.
The western tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see.
The rolling mist came down and hid the land:
And never home came she.
"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair--
A tress of golden hair,
A drownèd maiden's hair
Above the nets at sea?
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair
Among the stakes on Dee."
They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea:
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee.
poem by Charles Kingsley
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The answer has to be sought in the material conditions of the production and utilization of cattle in India compared with the production and utilization of cattle in other parts of the world.
quote by Marvin Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crowds of Xhosas gathered at the pool
At the Gxara River in the Transkei
a pool between some trees and flowering plants
is linked with one of the most emotional
and painful stories in history.
At the pool a young medium named Nonqawuse
spoke with the ancestral spirits
while bathing and looked into the water
seeing their faces.
They promised to drive the white man away,
provided that the Xhosa nation
would destroy all their own cattle and crops.
The Xhosas were disturbed by news
of this revelation
and travelled from near and far
to speak to her
and her witchdoctor uncle Mhlakaza.
Crowds of Xhosas gathered at the pool
with its red flowering aloes
peering into the water,
with a lot claiming to see
the faces of their ancestors there.
Some people even claimed
to see whole armies of ancestors
eager for war against the white man
and only waiting on the Xhosa people
to follow their instructions.
Then the insane instructions was followed through
with cattle being slaughtered
and most of the crops being destroyed
and only the very small Ngqika
section of the tribe not adhering to it.
The majority of Xhosas
waited in vain on 18 February 1857
for the sun to rise blood red,
the land to be filled with fat cattle,
new crops to appear
and vast armies of spirits
to go out in battle
against the white man.
It was a tragic dawn
with the Xhosa nation facing starvation
and ironically the Xhosas survived only
through the white man
reacheding out a hand of friendship
and feeding them
and by the compassion
of some neighbouring tribes
who had been oppressed by them before
and it’s estimated
that some twenty five thousand people
did die from this tragedy.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Cafe Of Dreams
welcome to the cafe
the cafe of dreams
the cattle stand dry
dry of mouth parched
awaiting their slaughter
so that a tired worker
may enjoy a good steak
meat pie or sausages
ground meat salt herbs spices
fried lovingly in your frying pan
not young mince meat dying
politic rhetoric in Afghanistan
slaugherhouse cafe is open
not only for teenagers who
dine 'Café des Abbatoirs'
die daily like passing cattle
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Hat, No Cattle
(roger brown/tommy conners)
See that boy standing there by the dance floor
Hes lookin like the marlboro man
Starched shirt, starched jeans, big trophy buckle
And an empty copenhagen can
Hes talkin cowboy this and cowboy that
Well Ill bet one things for sure
The only stampede that hes ever seen
Is the clearance at the western store
All hat and no cattle, that boy just aint real
All boots and no saddle, dont know how to make a cowgirl feel
Think Im gonna tell him to pack up his act
And go back where he came from
cause all hat and no cattle aint gonna get it done
Hes just a smooth-talkin, long-tall slow-walkin
Srugstore-made-up dude
So honey dont you fall for that fake texas drawl
He aint right for you
What you needs a man that aint just a hat stand
When you get him home
Well, I dont look like much, but I can sure saddle up
And ride with you all night long
All nat and no cattle, that boy just aint real
All boots and no saddle, dont know how to make a cowgirl feel
Think Im gonna tell him to pack up his act
And go back where he came from
cause all hat and no cattle aint gonna get it done
All hat and no cattle aint gonna get it done
song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I never said all actors are cattle; what I said was all actors should be treated like cattle.
quote by Alfred Hitchcock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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