What a miserable thing life is: you're living in clover, only the clover isn't good enough.
quote by Bertolt Brecht
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Four Leaf Clover
I wish I could find
a four-leaf clover
to give me a bit of luck.
Therefore, off I trotted
to have a look.
I found a lot of clover,
but not one
four leafed clover there.
(7 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
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Luck
I sought a four-leaved clover,—
The grass was gemmed with dew,—
I searched the meadow over
To find a four-leaved clover;
I was a lucky rover,—
You sought the charm-grass, too,
And seeking luck and clover
I found it—finding you.
poem by Abbie Farwell Brown from The New England Magazine / Volume 15, Issue 3 (1893)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Clover
Some sings of the lily, and daisy, and rose,
And the pansies and pinks that the Summertime
throws
In the green grassy lap of the medder that lays
Blinkin' up at the skyes through the sunshiney days;
But what is the lily and all of the rest
Of the flowers, to a man with a hart in his brest
That was dipped brimmin' full of the honey and dew
Of the sweet clover-blossoms his babyhood knew?
I never set eyes on a clover-field now,
Er fool round a stable, er climb in the mow,
But my childhood comes back jest as clear and as plane
As the smell of the clover I'm sniffin' again;
And I wunder away in a bare-footed dream,
Whare I tangle my toes in the blossoms that gleam
With the dew of the dawn of the morning of love
Ere it wept ore the graves that I'm weepin' above.
And so I love clover--it seems like a part
Of the sacerdest sorrows and joys of my hart;
And wharever it blossoms, oh, thare let me bow
And thank the good God as I'm thankin' Him now;
And I pray to Him still fer the stren'th when I die,
To go out in the clover and tell it good-bye,
And lovin'ly nestle my face in its bloom
While my soul slips away on a breth of purfume
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Frustration Again
I am lost in the woods
and have found my way
to lie among clover
and spend my day.
The sun overhead is brilliant
and there's not a care in sight.
I will stay in this place gladly
until the approach of night.
I will take a clover home,
one with petals four.
And if it brings me luck
again I will search for more.
But I can't remember
where I was?
And the only thing that
forgetfulness does
is frustrate me today.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Clover
Maurice white & larry dunn
Gonna send a message how I feel
To the lady thats for real
Done thought it over
Feels real fine
Her name is clover in my mind
Gotta send this message on my mind
Cant shake this feelin
Aint hard to find,
Oh clover, mystery come to my resque
Make sense of me
Oh think, I love her...
In my hearts...
A clover
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Plum Buns
Three plum buns
To eat here at the stile
In the clover meadow,
For we have walked a mile.
One for you, and one for me,
And one left over:
Give it to the boy who shouts
To scare sheep from the clover.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Search
We would lie in the grass and clover
and search for a four-leafed one.
And just the searching together,
even if we found none
would bring me joy and not despair
and never would I complain.
For the four-leafed clover that was absent
would have us try again.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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To make a prairie (1755)
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee.
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clover, Daisies and Grass
Clover daisies and grass
spread out pink, white and greens
on the carpet in front of me.
A thousand heads of clover
and daisies dotted on the green
as far as the eyes can see.
No sea of turmoil there
as each has its own plot there.
(7 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
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C[l]over Girl after Emily Dickinson - To make a prairie it takes a clover
To make true change it takes a Biden and one B.
One Biden and a B.
And reverie.
But reverie alone won't do
'til Palin's blue.
To make an omelette it takes some milk and one egg.
Some milk and an egg
and gas or light.
With reverie alone make do
if we're not few.
To stake a claim takes some land and one hope.
Some land and a hope,
called reverie.
The reverie alone won't do
with carats few.
To bake a cake it takes...
'and so ad infinitum'
Author notes
C[l]over Girl = Cove Over Cover Lover Clover Girl
[c] Jonathan Robin parody Emily Dickinson first stanza written 1 November 2008 subsequent stanzas added 2 November 2008
robi3_1400
ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi3_1400_robi1_0000 PWX_JXX Clover Girl_To make true change it takes a Biden and a B
n.b. cove in English may also mean Man
Clover and Bee
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
DICKINSON Emily 1830_1886 dick2_0017_dick2_0000 PXX_NXX To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee_To make a prairie
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Kindness to Insects
I saw a Melancholy Wasp
Upon a Purple Clover Knosp,
Who wept, 'The Poets do me Wrong,
Excluding me from Noble Song-
Though Pure am I and Wholly Crimeless-
Because, they say, my Name is Rhymeless!
Oh, had I but been born a Bee,
With Heaps of Words to Rhyme with me,
I should not want for Panegyrics
In Sonnets, Epics, Odes and Lyrics!
Will no one free me from the Curse
That bars my Race from Lofty Verse?'
'My Friend, that Little Thing I'll care for
At once,' said I- and that is wherefore
So tenderly I set that Wasp
Upon a Purple Clover Knosp.
poem by Arthur Guiterman
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Unto one who lies at rest
Unto one who lies at rest
'Neath the sunset, in the West,
Clover-blossoms on her breast.
Lover of each gracious thing
Which makes glad the summer-tide,
From the daisies clustering
And the violets purple-eyed,
To those shy and hidden blooms
Which in forest coverts stay,
Sending wandering perfumes
Out as guide to show the way,
All she knew, to all was kind;
None so humble or so small
That she did not seek and find
Silent friendship from them all.
Moss-cups, tiarella leaves,
Dappld like the adder's skin,
Fungus huts with ivory eaves
Which the fairies harbor in,
Regiments of fronded ferns,
Golden-rod and asters frail,
Every flaming leaf that burns
Red against the autumn pale,
Every pink-cupped wayside rose,--
All to her were dear and known;
But above them all she chose
Clover-blossoms for her own.
So they laid her to her rest
In the sun-warmed, bounteous West,
Clover-blossoms on her breast.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Scythe Song
MOWERS, weary and brown, and blithe,
What is the word methinks ye know,
Endless over-word that the Scythe
Sings to the blades of the grass below?
Scythes that swing in the grass and clover,
Something, still, they say as they pass;
What is the word that, over and over,
Sings the Scythe to the flowers and grass?
Hush, ah hush, the Scythes are saying,
Hush, and heed not, and fall asleep;
Hush, they say to the grasses swaying;
Hush, they sing to the clover deep!
Hush—’t is the lullaby Time is singing—
Hush, and heed not, for all things pass;
Hush, ah hush! and the Scythes are swinging
Over the clover, over the grass!
poem by Andrew Lang
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The Reflex
(words and music duran duran)
You gone too far this time
But Im dancing on the valentine
I tell you somebodys fooling around -
With my chances on the dangerline
Ill cross that bridge when I find it
Another day to make my stand, oh..
High time is no time for deciding
If I should find a helping hand, oh..
So why dont you use it
Try not to bruse it
Buy time dont lose it
(chorus)
The reflex is an only child, hes waiting in the park
The reflex is in charge of finding treasure in the dark
And watching over lucky clover isnt that bizarre
Every little thing the reflex does leaves you answered with a
Question mark
Im on a ride and I want to get off
But they wont slow down the roundabout
I sold the renoir and the tv set
Dont want to be around when this gets out
(chorus) (chorus)
The reflex is an only child, hes waiting by the park
The reflex is in charge of finding treasure in the dark
And watching over lucky clover isnt that bizarre
Every little thing the reflex does is an answer with a
Question mark
(chorus) (chorus)
The reflex is an only child, hes waiting by the park
The reflex is in charge of finding treasure in the dark
And watching over lucky clover isnt that bizarre
Every little thing the reflex does leaves me answered with a
Question mark
Oh, the reflex what a game hes hiding all the cards
The reflex is in charge of finding treasure in the dark
And watching over lucky clover isnt that bizarre
Every little thing the reflex does leaves you answered with a
Question mark
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clover
Written by ugly kid joe
Im, protected by the leaves of the four leaf clover
And i, refuse to die for you
And i, was tempted but the apple made me stronger
And i, spit it up on you
And Im here to free you
And Im here to free you
Im infected by the lies that made me colder
And i, I put my trust for you
Time has passed me by, my soul is getting stronger
And i, I never lie for you
And Im here to free you
And Im here to free you
Im protected by the leaves of a four leaf clover
And i, I never lie for you
And i, expect to die for my life wont live much longer
And i, I never lie for you
And Im here to free you
And Im here to free you
song performed by by Ugly Kid Joe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hamlet Micure
In a lingering fever many visions come to you:
I was in the little house again
With its great yard of clover
Running down to the board-fence,
Shadowed by the oak tree,
Where we children had our swing.
Yet the little house was a manor hall
Set in a lawn, and by the lawn was the sea.
I was in the room where little Paul
Strangled from diphtheria,
But yet it was not this room --
It was a sunny verandah enclosed
With mullioned windows,
And in a chair sat a man in a dark cloak,
With a face like Euripides.
He had come to visit me, or I had gone to visit him --
I could not tell.
We could hear the beat of the sea, the clover nodded
Under a summer wind, and little Paul came
With clover blossoms to the window and smiled.
Then I said: "What is 'divine despair,' Alfred?"
"Have you read 'Tears, Idle Tears'?" he asked.
"Yes, but you do not there express divine despair."
"My poor friend," he answered, "that was why the despair
Was divine."
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Born To Be Blue
Some folks were meant to live in clover,
But they are such a chosen few.
And clover being green is something i've never seen
'cause i was born to be blue.
When there's a yellow moon above me,
They say there's moonbeams i should view
But moonbeams being gold are something i can't behold
'cause i was born to be blue.
When i met you the world was bright and sunny
When you left the curtain fell
I'd like to laugh but nothing strikes me funny
Now my world's a faded pastel
Well, i guess i'm luckier than some folks,
I've known the thrill of loving you.
And that alone is more than i was created for
'cause i was born to be blue.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(I Was) Born To Be Blue
Some folks were meant to live in clover,
But they are such a chosen few.
And clover being green is something I've never seen
'Cause I was born to be blue.
When there's a yellow moon above me,
They say there's moonbeams I should view
But moonbeams being gold are something I can't behold
'Cause I was born to be blue.
When I met you the world was bright and sunny
When you left the curtain fell
I'd like to laugh but nothing strikes me funny
Now my world's a faded pastel
Well, I guess I'm luckier than some folks,
I've known the thrill of loving you.
And that alone is more than I was created for
'Cause I was born to be blue.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Splendor in the grass
Come; lie with me in the grass
Of summer and feel the cool green
Blades give ground to our presence here.
Smell the white clover my dearest?
Its odoriferous fragrance
Pales by comparison with you.
Look! I see a four-leaf clover,
Though rare, it’s not as rare as you;
I picked you out amongst a crowd
And have been in love ever since.
That sun that kisses these flowers
Is not as warm as your kisses
And the warm rustling summer breeze
Lingers long about your tresses
Stilled by the jealous Aeolus
Who claims all things but you my dear.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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