En.Citatepedia^®.ro

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, And the dimpling stream runs laughing by; When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it.

quote by Lord Byron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laughing Song

When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;

When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing ‘Ha, Ha, He!’

When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread,
Come live, and be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of ‘Ha, Ha, He!’

poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Laugh…….

We laugh today; we'll laugh tomorrow
Over today's joy and yesterday's sorrow
Nothing is permanent, nothing is forever
So we laugh to forget and with sorrow sever
From our happiness' mirth to laugh in play
So merry is the soul who laughs away
The pain life brings, the pain of being
Laughing till joy from pain is fleeing
To where? Our panacea of hearty laugh
I guess it's better than pain's angry wrath
Laugh…….

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XXII: Laugh

there's laugh, forced laugh
laugh, gentle rejection without word
laugh, looking sympathy with laugh
laugh but actually doesn't laugh
hiding anger, hiding pain
cheerful laugh but alone inside
why you try hard to impress people?
tired and wounded more
laughing your foolish joke
and crying life in the dark room
laugh for yourself
laugh with your heart
and you'll never regret to try an honest laugh

poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Echoing Green

The Sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring;
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around
To the bells’ cheerful sound,
While our sports shall be seen
On the Echoing Green.

Old John, with white hair,
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk.
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say:
‘Such, such were the joys
When we all, girls & boys,
In our youth time were seen
On the echoing green.’

Till the little ones, weary,
No more can be merry;
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end.
Round the laps of their mothers
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest,
And sport no more seen
On the darkening Green.

poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The King's Hunt is up

The hunt is up, the hunt is up,
And it is well nigh day;
And Harry our king is gone hunting,
To bring his deer to bay.

The east is bright with morning light,
And darkness it is fled;
And the merry horn wakes up the morn
To leave his idle bed.

Behold the skies with golden dyes
Are glowing all around;
The grass is green, and so are the treen,
All laughing with the sound.

The horses snort to be at the sport,
The dogs are running free;
The woods rejoice at the merry noise
Of hey taranta tee ree.

The sun is glad to see us clad
All in our lusty green,
And smiles in the sky as he riseth high
To see and to be seen.

Awake all men, I say again,
Be merry as you may;
For Harry our king is gone hunting
To bring his deer to bay.

poem by William Gray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Laughing

I'm laughing at your funny face
I'm laughing at this funny place
I'm laughing in my space
I'm laughing at a fast pace

I'm laughing and cannot stop
I'm laughing feeling the bop
I'm laughing at your top
I'm laughing with a cop

My stomach hurts
My cheeks are sore
Yet I want to laugh some more
Just want to laugh day and night
Want to laugh 'cause it feels alright

I'm laughing with Pat
I'm laughing at the cat
I'm laughing at the mat
I'm laughing as the cat sat

Giggle, Giggle, Giggle
Giggle, Giggle, Giggle
Giggle, Giggle.

©Copyright 2010 Willmington. All rights reserved

poem by Somniator Moon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Green Woods Of Truagh

In the green woods of Truagh we met without fear,
Your kiss on my lips, and your voice in my ear,
Your tender arms about me, and your eyes glad and clear–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh the days go on wings,
On every brown branch a gladsome bird sings
And the fragrant amber blossom of the honey-suckle swings–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh the bracken stands high,
And wells of spring-water in deep hollows lie,
And the red deer is browsing in the cool shadows nigh–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh no sorrow dared stay,
The lark called me early at dawn o' the day,
And o'er my sleep at night pleasant dreams used to play–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh you wait till I come–
I left home and you for the stranger's far home,
To bring a hoard of yellow gold across the grey foam–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh–if God hears my prayer–
I shall reach you, O true love, my empty hands there,
For little of the yellow gold has fallen to my share–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

In the green woods of Truagh–your heart on my own,
And your bright hair in ringlets across my cheek blown
Now where in all the wide, wide world, could greater bliss be known?
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!

poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Village Green

Out in the country,
Far from all the soot and noise of the city,
Theres a village green.
Its been a long time
Since I last set eyes on the church with the steeple
Down by the village green.
twas there I met a girl called daisy
And kissed her by the old oak tree.
Although I loved my daisy, I saw fame,
And so I left the village green.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And now all the houses
Are rare antiquities.
American tourists flock to see the village green.
They snap their photographs and say gawd darn it,
Isnt it a pretty scene?
And daisys married tom the grocer boy,
And now he owns a grocery.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And I will return there,
And Ill and daisy,
And well sip tea, laugh,
And talk about the village green.
We will laugh and talk about the village green.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song- I'd be a Fairy King

Oh, I'd be a Fairy King,
With my vassals brave and bold;
We'd hunt all day,
Through the wildwood gay,
In our guise of green and gold;
And we'd lead such a merry, merry life,
That the silly, toiling bee,
Would have no sweet
In its dull retreat,
So rich as our frolic glee.
I'd be a Fairy King,
With my vassals brave and bold;
We'd hunt all day,
Through the wildwood gay,
In our guise of green and gold.

At night, when the moon spake down,
With her bland and pensive tone,
The fairest Queen
That ever was seen
Would sit on my pearly throne;
And we'd lead such a merry, merry life,
That the stars would laugh in show'rs
Of silver light,
All the summer night,
To the airs of the passing Hours.
I'd be a Fairy King,
With my vassals brave and bold;
We'd hunt all day
Through the wildwood gay,
In our guise of green and gold.

We'd talk with the dainty flow'rs,
And we'd chase the laughing brooks;
My merry men,
Through grove and glen,
Would search for the mossy nooks;
And we'd be such a merry, merry band,
Such a lively-hearted throng,
That life would seem
But a silvery dream
In the flowery Land of Song.
I'd be a Fairy King,
With my vassals brave and bold;
We'd hunt all day,
Through the wildwood gay,
In our guise of green and gold.

poem by Charles Sangster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paco De Lucia In Guitar Strings

the guitar strings of paco de lucia
are not new to me
the sound of his spanish guitar
strumming on my mind
they were with me
in my childhood
with my friends
we get a smooth
long and strong
coconut palm
take it on top
of a hill
covered with green
carabao grass
and we ride
on the palm
slide it
on the hill
and

yehey
yehehey
yehey yehey

we laugh
so hard
my little
brown friends
that
the foreign
white visitors
call monkeys

we take
the coconut palm
on top of the hill
we ride on it
and we slide
on the
hill
green
with
carabao grass
grass

yehey
yehehey
yehey

we tumble
and roll
when we
reach the
foot of the hill
covered with
green
carabao
grass
we
crash

there may
be some bruises
on our arms
and
legs
but we
laugh
we enjoy
the sliding
the falling
the crashing
on the green
green
carabao
grass
we
crash

yehey
yehehey
yehehey

we are
the happy
little brown
monkeys

yehey
yehehey
yehey

we are
happy.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The happy household

It's when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks,
That, clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes;
Then it's sleep no more for baby, and it's sleep no more for me,
For, when he wants his dinner, why it's dinner it must be!
And of that lacteal fluid he partakes with great ado,
While gran'ma laughs,
And gran'pa laughs,
And wife, she laughs,
And I - well, I laugh, too!

You'd think, to see us carrying on about that little tad,
That, like as not, that baby was the first we'd ever had;
But, sakes alive! he isn't, yet we people make a fuss
As if the only baby in the world had come to us!
And, morning, noon, and night-time, whatever he may do,
Gran'ma, she laughs,
Gran'pa, he laughs,
Wife, she laughs,
And I, of course, laugh, too!

But once - a likely spell ago - when that poor little chick
From teething or from some such ill of infancy fell sick,
You wouldn't know us people as the same that went about
A-feelin' good all over, just to hear him crow and shout;
And, though the doctor poohed our fears and said he'd pull him through,
Old gran'ma cried,
And gran'pa cried,
And wife, she cried,
And I - yes, I cried, too!

It makes us all feel good to have a baby on the place,
With his everlastin' crowing and his dimpling, dumpling face;
The patter of his pinky feet makes music everywhere,
And when he shakes those fists of his, good-by to every care!
No matter what our trouble is, when he begins to coo,
Old gran'ma laughs,
And gran'pa laughs,
Wife, she laughs,
And I - you bet, I laugh, too!

poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer in the South

The Oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid, and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and pinety,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Green Men

Little Green Men

I lay in the sand gazing at the stars through glassy eyes
Sound has been taken, stolen away, pain is no more
As I start to fade into a sea of unknown darkness
My eyes finally close

I am moving, though I know not how, fear has overcome me
Eyes still shut I dare not open
This world I’m in makes no since for I am here
But have not taken a single breath

Peaceful melody the sun is shining
I hear two little boys one laughing one crying
Eyelids creep open, one than another
Two little boys surrounded by little green men
Some held pistols and others had rifles

I know these boys! The one laughing is me
My little green men were victorious that day
They fought the evil army of my brother John K.
He cries, I laugh and say

War is for the strong and keen of heart
You are dead, all of your men are Dead, Dead, Dead
I don’t want to die big brother why must I die
This game of War is not fair I don’t wanna Die.

Gasping and wheezing, blood in my eyes
I lay in the sand gazing at the sky
Pain has returned, and I hear every scream.

Off in the distance a voice i know well yells out
I don’t want to die big brother why must I die!
Why, Why, Why big brother, why must I die!

I brought him to war, a game all I thought
Little green men danced in my head
Fun and adventure was all that I sought
Now I lay here alone, my men their all dead

War is for the strong and keen of heart

I lay and laugh for what else to do
Cry then die, littlle brother ill see you soon

Little green men danced in my mind
I love you Little Brother, we both lost this time

poem by Brian Hayden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Down

You telling lies thinking i can't see
You don't cry 'cos you're laughing at me
I'm down (i'm really down)
I'm down (down on the ground)
I'm down (i'm really down)
How can you laugh when you know i'm down
(how can you laugh) when you know i'm down.
Man buys ring woman throws it away
Same damn thing happens everyday
I'm down (i'm really down)
I'm down (down on the ground)
I'm down (i'm really down)
How can you laugh when you know i'm down
(how can you laugh) when you know i'm down.
We're all alone and there's nobody else
You still moan: "keep your hands to yourself!"
I'm down (i'm really down)
I'm down (down on the ground)
I'm down (i'm really down)
How can you laugh when you know i'm down
(how can you laugh) when you know i'm down.
Don't you know that i'm down (i'm really down)
Don't you know that i'm down (i'm really down)
Down on the ground (i'm really down)
Don't you know that i'm down (i'm really down)
Down, down, down.

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice

Safe in the magic of my woods
I lay, and watched the dying light.
Faint in the pale high solitudes,
And washed with rain and veiled by night,

Silver and blue and green were showing.
And the dark woods grew darker still;
And birds were hushed; and peace was growing;
And quietness crept up the hill;

And no wind was blowing

And I knew
That this was the hour of knowing,
And the night and the woods and you
Were one together, and I should find
Soon in the silence the hidden key
Of all that had hurt and puzzled me -
Why you were you, and the night was kind,
And the woods were part of the heart of me.

And there I waited breathlessly,
Alone; and slowly the holy three,
The three that I loved, together grew
One, in the hour of knowing,
Night, and the woods, and you -

And suddenly
There was an uproar in my woods,

The noise of a fool in mock distress,
Crashing and laughing and blindly going,
Of ignorant feet and a swishing dress,
And a Voice profaning the solitudes.

The spell was broken, the key denied me
And at length your flat clear voice beside me
Mouthed cheerful clear flat platitudes.

You came and quacked beside me in the wood.
You said, 'The view from here is very good!'
You said, 'It's nice to be alone a bit!'
And, 'How the days are drawing out!' you said.
You said, 'The sunset's pretty, isn't it?'

* * * * *

By God! I wish - I wish that you were dead!

poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Laugh

Love laughed at you and made you blue
Now heres what you should do
Well laugh, though your heart is breaking in two
Yeah laugh, dont let them know he hurt you
Well laugh and pretend true love will come again
Yeah laugh, laugh and laugh
Laugh, though the one you love is really gone
Yeah laugh, even though youll be alone
Yeah laugh and pretend true love will come again
Yeah laugh, laugh and laugh
Well let me hear you laugh now
Though its hard, so hard for you to do
Laugh with me, cos you see
Ive been there too
Well laugh and pretend true love will come again
Yeah laugh and believe its not the end
Yeah laugh like a clown
Dont let your heart break down
Yeah laugh, laugh and laugh
Love laughed, its true
But look at you
Now youre laughing too

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hic Jacet

The coroner's merry little children
Have such twinkling brown eyes.
Their father is not of gay men
And their mother jocular in no wise,
Yet the coroner's merry little children
Laugh so easily.

They laugh because they prosper.
Fruit for them is upon all branches.
Lo! how they jibe at loss, for
Kind heaven fills their little paunches!
It's the coroner's merry, merry children
Who laugh so easily.

poem by William Carlos Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Invocation Of Laughter

O, laugh, laughers!
O, laugh out, laughers!
You who laugh with laughs, you who laugh it up laughishly
O, laugh out laugheringly
O, belaughable laughterhood - the laughter of laughering laughers!
O, unlaugh it outlaughingly, belaughering laughists!
Laughily, laughily,
Uplaugh, enlaugh, laughlings, laughlings
Laughlets, laughlets.
O, laugh, laughers!
O, laugh out, laughers!

poem by Velimir Khlebnikov
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GREEN, A Litany

green in the midst of drab desolation
green ‘til the tide in the street overflows
green that preserves green's green reputation
green behind curtains, like cellist & bow

green on occasions no green is permissible
green by inversion a negative flame
green in final disgrace & dismissal
green where the gravedigger shoulders his spade

green like the walls of Verlaine's Belgium prison
green woods, wolf & poet meeting on equal foot
green like embroidery on old smoking-jackets
covered with needlepoint dragons & soot

green like a murderer gone to the guillotine
green like the lawns of this land breaking through
our windows in herbicide frenzy to taunt us
green like the tarnish on brass tiger shoes

green the result of choice or of chance
green when the famished, the hopeful despair
green that we have no hope of outguessing
green for which always we must be prepared

poem by Jay Mandeville
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Voice, The

Safe in the magic of my woods
I lay, and watched the dying light.
Faint in the pale high solitudes,
And washed with rain and veiled by night,

Silver and blue and green were showing.
And the dark woods grew darker still;
And birds were hushed; and peace was growing;
And quietness crept up the hill;

And no wind was blowing

And I knew
That this was the hour of knowing,
And the night and the woods and you
Were one together, and I should find
Soon in the silence the hidden key
Of all that had hurt and puzzled me --
Why you were you, and the night was kind,
And the woods were part of the heart of me.

And there I waited breathlessly,
Alone; and slowly the holy three,
The three that I loved, together grew
One, in the hour of knowing,
Night, and the woods, and you ----

And suddenly
There was an uproar in my woods,

The noise of a fool in mock distress,
Crashing and laughing and blindly going,
Of ignorant feet and a swishing dress,
And a Voice profaning the solitudes.

The spell was broken, the key denied me
And at length your flat clear voice beside me
Mouthed cheerful clear flat platitudes.

You came and quacked beside me in the wood.
You said, "The view from here is very good!"
You said, "It's nice to be alone a bit!"
And, "How the days are drawing out!" you said.
You said, "The sunset's pretty, isn't it?"

* * * * *

By God! I wish -- I wish that you were dead!

poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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