We must always remember with gratitude and admiration the first sailors who steered their vessels through storms and mists, and increased our knowledge of the lands of ice in the South.
quote by Roald Amundsen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Long I Thought That Knowledge
LONG I thought that knowledge alone would suffice me--O if I could
but obtain knowledge!
Then my lands engrossed me--Lands of the prairies, Ohio's land, the
southern savannas, engrossed me--For them I would live--I would
be their orator;
Then I met the examples of old and new heroes--I heard of warriors,
sailors, and all dauntless persons--And it seemed to me that I
too had it in me to be as dauntless as any--and would be so;
And then, to enclose all, it came to me to strike up the songs of the
New World--And then I believed my life must be spent in
singing;
But now take notice, land of the prairies, land of the south
savannas, Ohio's land,
Take notice, you Kanuck woods--and you Lake Huron--and all that with
you roll toward Niagara--and you Niagara also,
And you, Californian mountains--That you each and all find somebody
else to be your singer of songs,
For I can be your singer of songs no longer--One who loves me is
jealous of me, and withdraws me from all but love,
With the rest I dispense--I sever from what I thought would suffice
me, for it does not--it is now empty and tasteless to me,
I heed knowledge, and the grandeur of The States, and the example of
heroes, no more, 10
I am indifferent to my own songs--I will go with him I love,
It is to be enough for us that we are together--We never separate
again.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Brass lantern lights
So egregious of a western datum to command
of this travel and conquer new, unknown lands,
what an effusive cause of my tidal obsequies,
my galley had taken an imperious route west.
Nomad women named of this, a ghostly route,
nobody had survived to report, or preached,
on new lands that no one before placed his foot,
my monkey shrieks at this analogy bewitched.
I spoke to the steersman to be aware of stars,
that shine south, beyond the parallel of N.27,
because their luminance is evident of storms,
and of the morning rainbow that brings tempest.
Brass lantern lights illuminate to a nowhere,
around the steadfast an immense void to dismiss,
lonely serenity embraces a dim fear, as we stare,
because dark monsters will emerge of the Abyss.
We have a Crucifix to talk to, He maybe listens;
my ancestors were sailors, got lost in deepest sea,
As we bear away, my bitter mouth is curving down,
all we edge to pay a coin, for a darkened grave fee.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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“Remember”
Remember where you came from.
Remember where you have been.
Remember whom you have encountered.
Remember whom you have known,
Remember joyous moments.
Remember sorrow too.
Remember all the lessons.
Remember the lessons you forgot.
Remember your Father.
Remember your Mentor.
Remember Mother Earth.
Remember the universe.
Remember to remember.
Remember gratitude.
Remember to be humble.
Remember your heart.
Remember always to love.
(Created 09-23-05@4: 53PM, Completed 11-27-06@6: 41PM)
poem by Michelle Chargualaf
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Here are also the two vessels, but the San Carlos without sailors, all having died of the scurvy, except two.
quote by Junipero Serra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wooden Ships
Their sails fluttered in the prevailing winds
as the wooden ships sailed into the horizons
looking for new lands to conquer.
Across oceans with waters unknown
in days when some thought
the world was flat
and if you sailed so far out
you just simply fell off.
The sailors were superstitious
seeing monsters in most living things.
A giant squid became a Kraken
and a myth of ocean lore.
However, these sailors were brave men
and against dangers unknown sailed
to chart new lands
many thought did not exist.
Some went for riches;
others went on a voyage of discovery.
Some came back to tell tall tales.
While other went down in their wooden ships
as in perilous waters sailed,
and slowly the world was discovered
by these sailors in wooden ships.
11 July 2008
poem by David Harris
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Dark Journeys Into Mind Passions
dark journeys
are not all tempest storms
tunnels of black
sudden devastating destructive
dark journeys
can be fog endless grey mists
mists of grey unending
swallowing ray hope’s dreams
dark forces seek
to break not just body muscles
dark forces seek
to break rule desolate shatter minds
dark journeys
shallowing ray hope’s dreams
mists of grey unending
minds of emotions tempest storms
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Light House Stands Tall In An Island
to storms
that we can do nothing about
the light house
stands proud
tall and unchallenged
on a beacon of
light
it tells the world
the storms have not
bent my light
the mists are not enough
to conceal it
when i save lives
and ships
no one owes
to thank
me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Admiration to last till time lasts! Inspiration to inspire till time survives!
Determination to design a destiny.
Dedication to make an endeavour.
Desire to fulfill a wish.
Understanding to comprehend a silence.
Communication to transmit feelings.
Gratitude to greet the love.
Appreciation to treat the effort.
Attitude to carry with.
Arrogance to bear with.
Let the admiration forever last and the Inspiration never go past.
Admiration to last till time lasts! Inspiration to inspire till time survives!
poem by Meetika Srivastava
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Block City
What are you able to build with your blocks?
Castles and palaces, temples and docks.
Rain may keep raining, and others go roam,
But I can be happy and building at home.
Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea,
There I'll establish a city for me:
A kirk and a mill and a palace beside,
And a harbor as well where my vessels may ride.
Great is the palace with pillar and wall,
A sort of a tower on top of it all,
And steps coming down in an orderly way
To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay.
This one is sailing and that one is moored:
Hark to the song of the sailors on board!
And see on the steps of my palace, the kings
Coming and going with presents and things!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Learn Ramdas 1
Learn Ramdas,
Whether you are resting in
nondual consciousness or not,
You are product of nondual love,
Remember nondual love that
shaped you only through duality,
Nature and its products are in
Self,
Gratitude is crown of
understanding,
That Understanding of indebtedness,
Duality that come as parents,
relatives and friends,
all may be produce of nondual,
Let SELF be duty bound,
Gratitude is gratification, That never stop one from peace
and spreading love!
Be grateful to all who has
worked according to divine
plan,
Be grateful to toys that taught what this eternal play of
nondual eternal,
It is true,
Ramdas has learnt that
gratefulness is wakefulness,
awareness of dreamful existence,
yet you have so many thing to
learn,
Learn Ramdas with all,
From all with love and
gratitude!
Gratitude leads to love,
Love that transformed every
atoms of me,
Transformed structure and
properties,
So that He and His love, Come in my way as friends,
Like rays of Sun,
Even as my enemies like dark
clouds covering the Sun! Only transform me into,
Precious ornament,
Precious stones embedded into
engraved precious metal,
Nay, precious virtues,
Embedded in talented loving heart! namaste to you and all! ♥ Knowing Love is knowing
God,
♥ Knowing God is Knowing Self,
♥ Knowing Self is Dawn of
knowledge,
♥ Dawn of knowledge leads to wisdom infinite!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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To Remember
To remember those people who risked their lives
To show appreciation, to show we care
To save our country, they gave their lives
For their families it was like a dreaded nightmare
To support those soldiers and wear a poppy
To give some money, and not be soppy
To wear a poppy and remember that first day poppies grew, that one day it was sunny
Do you remember why
Why we wear a poppy for a couple of days
To show we remember and to show our gratitude is high
To do that, doesn’t pay
So to remember
To be silent
For a couple of minutes
Doesn’t pay
It just shows gratitude
For that one sad day
Millworker
Now my grandfather was a sailor
He blew in off the water
My father was a farmer
And i, his only daughter
Took up with a no good millworking man
From massachusetts
Who dies from too much whiskey
And leaves me these three faces to feed
Millwork aint easy
Millwork aint hard
Millwork it aint nothing
But an awful boring job
Im waiting for a daydream
To take me through the morning
And put me in my coffee break
Where I can have a sandwich
And remember
Then its me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
For the rest of the afternoon
And the rest of my life
Now my mind begins to wander
To the days back on the farm
I can see my father smiling at me
Swinging on his arm
I can hear my granddads stories
Of the storms out on lake eerie
Where vessels and cargos and fortunes
And sailors lives were lost
Yes, but its my life has been wasted
And I have been the fool
To let this manufacturer
Use my body for a tool
I can ride home in the evening
Staring at my hands
Swearing by my sorrow that a young girl
Ought to stand a better chance
So may I work the mills just as long as I am able
And never meet the man whose name is on the label
It be me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
And the rest of the afternoon
Gone for the rest of my life
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember
I will remember you
And all the flowers that you grew
I will remember you
And all the knowledge that you knew
I will remember you
And how you picked me up when i was blue
I will remember you
And how you guided me when i didn`t have a clue
I will remember you
And how you stuck with me like glue
I will remember you
And how your love was always true
I will remember you
Mostly because there was no one sweeter then you
poem by Joseph Whelan
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I Wonder What It Feels Like to be Drowned?
Look at my knees,
That island rising from the steamy seas!
The candles a tall lightship; my two hands
Are boats and barges anchored to the sands,
With mighty cliffs all round;
They’re full of wine and riches from far lands….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
I can make caves,
By lifting up the island and huge waves
And storms, and then with head and ears well under
Blow bubbles with a monstrous roar like thunder,
A bull-of-Bashan sound.
The seas run high and the boats split asunder….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
The thin soap slips
And slithers like a shark under the ships.
My toes are on the soap-dish—that’s the effect
Of my huge storms; an iron steamer’s wrecked.
The soap slides round and round;
He’s biting the old sailors, I expect….
I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?
poem by Robert Graves
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What happens is that the system builds many inferior blood vessels in the eye to take the place of the vessels that are dying. And those blood vessels are not up to the task. And they bleed. They hemorrhage and they cover the eye inside with blood.
quote by Mary Tyler Moore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Millworker
(james taylor)
Now my grandfather was a sailor,
He blew in off the water
My father was a farmer
I, his only daughter,
Took up with a no-good millworking man from massachusetts
Who dies from too much whiskey
And leaves me these three faces to feed
Millwork aint easy; mill-work aint hard
Millwork, it aint nothing but an awful boring job
Im waiting for a day dream
To take me through the morning
And put me in my coffee break
Where I can have a sandwich and remember
Then its me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
For the rest of the afternoon
And the rest of my life
Now my mind begins to wander
To the days back on the farm
I can see my father smiling at me,
Swingin on his arm
I can hear my grand-dads stories
Of the storms out on lake erie
Where vessels and cargos and fortunes
And sailors lives were lost
Yes, but its my life has been wasted,
And I have been the fool
To let this manufacture use my body for a tool.
I can ride home in the evening,
Staring at my hands
Swearing by my sorrow that a young girl
Ought to stand a better chance
So may I work the mills
Just as long as I am able
And never meet the man whose
Name is on the label
It be me and my machine
For the rest of the morning
For the rest of the afternoon
And the rest of my life
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonny! One day you too push me when I struggle on my Wheelchair
When I pushed my Grandson's Pram
I do remember now what I told;
Sorry, I have no any regrets my son
I am proud that you're being a Pilot!
And I know that you have a limited time of Freedom
When that Exists suddenly you run to your nest
I understand the Ladybird waits for you.
Your poor Grandma also old now
And she struggles to pass a silky thread
Through eye of the needle!
And I too already threequarter senile
But still I remember your name my son.
If you find a better place in your flying career
Which is not in the given map,
Your poor Grandma and the jigsaw Grandpa
Could have wait for a while at a stopover
Until your pretty Alloy-bird safely lands!
* To the poetess Unwritten Soul [PH] in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sonnet: On Knowledge
Knowledge is one thing priceless, people want;
Knowledge is something gained by labor long;
Knowledge is infinite; master, you-can't;
Knowledge is changeable, much like a song.
Knowledge is deeper than the oceans deep;
Knowledge is larger than the Universe;
Knowledge is barely in life, just a peep;
Knowledge if badly used becomes God's curse.
Knowledge remains undiminished, tho' you- share;
Knowledge gives man, a civilised outlook;
Knowledge if improper, you ought to pare;
Knowledge is gained from Nature and by book.
Knowledge can make a man a wiser one;
Knowledge gives Wisdom in the longer run.
poem by John Celes
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Memories of Summers Spent
For Faizil
I remember the sand dunes of Aniston
Eastwards on the south of the Western Cape coast
The blue skies hanging over
Illuminated by the burning sun
Within the sand dunes concealed
Lies the bones of shipwrecked sailors of yesteryear
Contrast of desert and ocean
Like two dimension woven in one
Dwarfed by the sands of time
I remember how we raced to the top of the dunes
Breathless without thought
Just the absolute carefree bliss of being children
The race down was a running and a tumbling
Our summers spent camping at Arniston
When finally at the bottom, we would lay exhausted
Panting, catching our breath
poem by Persian Khushi
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I feel, as never before, how justly, from the dawn of history to the present time, men have paid the homage of their gratitude and admiration to the memory of those who nobly sacrifice their lives, that their fellow-men may live in safety and in honor.
quote by Edward Everett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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