The Rondel Of The Dying Roses
It is the time when roses die,
They die in gardens, and in me –
They were so full of life and glee,
And now they droop with a faint sigh.
Through everything cold shivers fly.
Despondency’s in all we see.
It is the time when roses die –
They die in gardens, and in me.
Beneath the dismal twilight sky
There eddies many a faint sigh;
And towards the long night to be
They gently bend their heads so shy –
It is the time when roses die.
poem by Alexandru Macedonski from The Poem Of Rondels (1927), translated by Dan Duţescu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Related quotes
Roses
Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May,
When blossoms and bird-song are rife;
Oh, joy for the season, and joy for the day,
That gave me the roses of life, of life,
That gave me the roses of life.
Oh, wind of the summer, sing loud in the night,
When flutters my heart like a dove;
One came from thy kingdom, thy realm of delight,
And gave me the roses of love, of love,
And gave me the roses of love.
Oh, wind of the winter, sigh low in thy grief,
I hear thy compassionate breath;
I wither, I fall, like the autumn-kissed leaf,
He gave me the roses of death, of death,
He gave me the roses of death.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roses Are Red (Jessica)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Honey is so sweet and so are you darling!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You've made my dreams come true!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have my brown eyes glued on YOU!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I feel like i have known you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are so FINE that you give me the BLUES!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Lord knows that im falling for you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I just want to Rock with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
These lips can't wait to be kissing you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I do anything to claim you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I bow down to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I've never met anyone as HOT as you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
never knew i would meet you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm going to bed would you like to come too!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I rather spend my precious time with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are beautiful as sparkling DIAMOND!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You have me speechless everytime i talk to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
May i have this dance with you (JESSICA)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have mentioned your name so many time i have lost count!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I dont want no-one if i cant have you. #PERIOD
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I want to give you everlasting Joy, Happiness, and especially LOVE!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm the one who will make your dreams come true
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Chilli is hot and so are you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
JESSICA ITA JAMES WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Roses are red Violets are blue,
THIS POEM WAS MADE FOR YOU.......
poem by Obi Onyenwe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Holy Rosary (Roses to Mother Mary)
Roses that can never fade;
Roses white and red in shade;
Roses that are heaven-made;
Roses in Mary’s crown laid!
Roses from the hearts that pray;
Roses blossoming night, day;
Roses living all the way;
Roses fit for any Fay!
Roses that will always stay;
Roses brighter than sun’s ray;
Roses everlasting, Aye!
Roses that she can’t say, ’nay’!
The spiritual best weapon,
That brings favors from her son,
That serves to solve problems mundane,
And makes souls fit for life divine!
‘PRAYERS THAT YOU CAN SAY ALL LIFE
TO KEEP AWAY FROM EVERY STRIFE! ’
dedicated to the 'Holy Family Church Grotto' Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-12-10
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Frown Of The Other Roses
Request: Please read this poem only after reading the one titled ' THE BLACK ROSES'.
The frown upon the faces of the other Roses
Disheartens me quite often, you know not.
But I am amused at the liberation of the Black ones
Around us and they never let a sigh out these days.
I rejoice at the tranquil and charming sight of many
A Garden of the Black Roses around your homes.
Your agonies and mine have died for ever as you know
The fragrance is the same as for all of them.
The Red Rose, the Lily, the Jasmine and the Hibiscus
Cast their eyes off me to make me feel annoyed.
Annoyances and embarrassments can never be felt
For my present has been re written by you all.
I salute your goodness in accommodating
All these flora of great identities in your gardens.
The liberation of these Black Roses has thus revolutionized
Your world of prejudices and done the work!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Coming Up Roses
Im a junkyard full of false starts
And I dont need yr permission
To bury my love under this bare light bulb
The moon is a sickle cell
Itll kill you in time
You cold white brother riding yr blood
Like spun glass in sore eyes
While the moon does its division youre buried below
And youre coming up roses everywhere you go
Red roses follow
The things that you tell yourself
Theyll kill you in time
You cold white brother alive in yr blood
Spinning in the night sky
While the moon does its division youre buried below
And youre coming up roses everywhere you go
Red roses
So you got in a kind of trouble that nobody knows
And youre coming up roses everywhere you go
Red roses
song performed by by Elliott Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Song Of Roses
'Tis time to sing of roses: of roses all ablow,
To every vagrant passing breeze they dip a courtesy low,
'Tis time to sing of roses! for June is here, you know.
One song for true love's roses of sweetest deepest red,
Some heart will wear you faithfully when life itself hath fled,
And for the white rose sing a song--the white rose for the dead.
And ah! the yellow roses, of brightest, lightest gold,
King Midas must have touched their leaves in mystic days of old,
Or they were made of sunshine, and gilded, fold by fold.
And the roadside rose, sweet-briar, we would remember thee
And the cinnamon rose that evermore enthralls each passing bee,
You old, old-fashioned roses, a-growing wild and free.
'Tis time to sing of roses! of roses all ablow!
They come again, as sweet, my dear, as those of long ago.
'Tis time to sing of roses! for June is here you know.
poem by Virna Sheard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Oh Lady, Let the Sad Tears Fall
Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall
To speak thy pain,
Gently as through the silver dusk
The silver rain.
Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grief
In such soft sigh
As hath the wind in gardens where
Pale roses die.
poem by Adelaide Crapsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Want To Sleep On A Bed Of Roses
I want to sleep on a bed of roses,
I want their fragrance to invade our senses,
In the velvet dark night i want you there by my side,
You and me on a bed of roses.
Was just the sunset and it's coming the night,
When love exists, even the silence is full with light,
I want to share my dreams only with you,
You and me on a bed of roses.
And when the sun rise up and light came in,
I want to wake up gently and to feel like a queen,
Surrounded by petals, with a velvet touch,
You and me on a bed of roses.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A night at a garden
A river crossing in the forest gloom ground
Brings me down from a hill secluded and tall
The garden roses that once we stroll
Is empty and forgetful of you and me
And lost it seems in troubles that circle endlessly around
Here at the head of a tinkling fall
The rivulet at the chasm trying to pass its way to the sea
The rivulet struggles the mounting rocks at the fall
As I do to hear you once again whisper
In odor and in color
“Be among the roses tonight”
Come into the garden of roses love
For the frightening black bat night has flown
Come into the secret garden dove
I am here at the gate but the moon alone
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad
And the musk of the roses in the night air is blown
For the breeze down the bank bay moves
And the garden of love is as high
Being to faint in the din of a remote horse hooves
On a bed of daffodils sky
To faint in the light of the rising sun I love
To faint waiting in its light and die
copy rights 2010
Roses
(melba montgomery, leslie satcher)
A soft summer evening, another time, another place
He brought her red roses on their very first date
She got carried away by the things that he said
Time would erase them but she would never forget
Chorus:
And the roses heard it all
The rose in her hair, the rose in her hand
The roses in the paper on the wall
Theres a story to tell if the roses could talk
Somewhere close to midnight, another time, another place
She lays in the darkness with tears on her face
While he talks in his sleep confessing his love
He calls out a name that shes never heard of
Repeat chorus
She never told him
She never let him see her cry
Only the roses know
What she kept down inside
The years took their toll and the angels took her away
Now theres family and friends at a cold winters grave
He kneels down and whispers. youre the only love that Ive known
As he lays a rose on a cold marble atone
But the roses heard it all
The rose from her garden, the rose in her bible
The roses in the paper on the wall
Theres a story to tell if roses could talk
What a story to tell if roses could talk~
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Path Of Roses
path of roses
i took the path full of roses
endured the love of roses
to strain my emotion
and torture my innocence
smiled with me in roses
yet to pain me with roses
left alone by the roses
discovered on the roses
climb me an emotion of roses
and lend me a rose of roses
to torture my innocence
and surely strain my emotion
to endure the love of roses
in this path full of roses
i hope we can cross this
out and cut the roses
and trade to the far east
if you want it…
it is a path of so many roses
in variety and kind, of roses
-
contributory poem by: onalethuso petruss ntema
©opn27042012/0947
inspired by: gomotsegang sebadieta's life is a rose and ode to my mother mrs. sebadieta (2012)
-
(r) ntema's unique poetry (nup)
email: [email protected]
[email protected]
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cold Roses
The mirrors in the room go black and blue
On a Sunday morning in her Saturday shoes
We don't choose who we love
We don't choose
The lights over the Midway melt on the street
In a Sunday shoes, with her Saturday feet
She don't love who he choose
She don't need what she use
Daylight comes and exposes
Saturday's bruises and cold roses
Cold roses
Nothing but the sunlight will help you grow
From underneath your bed you can't see the window
We don't choose what we see
We don't choose
Fortunate and angry just like a child
All that money buys you medicine but can't buy you time
We don't choose what we love
And she don't need what she got
Daylight comes and exposes
Saturday's bruises and cold roses
Cold roses
Cold roses
Cold roses
Cold roses
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Roses, Roses
Roses, Roses blooming bright!
In earth’s gardens; ‘What a sight! ’
Studding plants in dawn’s dew, light;
And perfuming day and night!
Queen of flowers, roses stay;
Budding, blossoming en way;
Hues pretty, very well laid;
Decorating bride and maid.
Oh, what mind had shaped thee thus!
And what hearts enjoy thy bliss;
Thorns amongst green leaves just say,
‘Beauty needs protection, Aye! ’
Roses, Roses petaled fine;
Standing glorious in sunshine;
Beauty unmatched on earth, thine;
Making garlands more divine!
Roses add to Mary’s crown,
Reciting Rosaries when;
Blessings and grace then come down,
Making souls fit for heaven!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 06-12-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roses In Madrid
Roses, Senors, roses!
Love is subtly hid
In the fragrant roses,
Blown in gay Madrid.
Roses, Senors, roses!
Look, look, look, and see
Love hanging in the roses,
Like a golden bee!
Ha! ha! shake the roses--
Hold a palm below;
Shake him from the roses,
Catch the vagrant so!
High I toss the roses
From my brown palm up;
Like the wine that bubbles
From a golden cup.
Catch the roses, Senors,
Light on finger tips;
He who buys red roses,
Dreams of crimson lips!
Tinkle! my fresh roses,
With the rare dews wet;
Clink! my crisp, red roses,
Like a castanet!
Roses, Senors, roses,
Come, Hidalgo, buy!
Proudly wait my roses
For thy rose's eye
Be thy rose as stately
As a pacing deer;
Worthy are my roses
To burn behind her ear.
Ha I ha! I can see thee,
Where the fountains foam,
Twining my red roses
In her golden comb!
Roses, Donnas, roses,
None so fresh as mine,
Pluck'd at rose of morning
By our Lady's shrine.
Those that first I gather'd
Laid I at her feet,
That is why my roses
Still are fresh and sweet.
Roses, Donnas, roses!
Roses waxen fair!
Acolytes my roses,
Censing ladies' pray'r!
Roses, roses, roses!
Hear the tawny bull
Thund'ring in the circus--
Buy your arms full.
Roses by the dozen!
Roses by the score!
Pelt the victor with them--
Bull or Toreador!
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Was Not In The Winter
It was not in the Winter
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the Time of Roses,—
We plucked them as we passed!
That churlish season never frown'd
On early lovers yet:—
Oh, no—the world was newly crown'd
With flowers when first we met!
'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
But still you held me fast;
It was the Time of Roses,—
We pluck'd them as we pass'd.—
What else could peer thy glowing cheek,
That tears began to stud?
And when I ask'd the like of Love,
You snatched a damask bud;
And oped it to the dainty core,
Still glowing to the last.—
It was the Time of Roses,—
We plucked them as we pass'd!
poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Must Have Been The Roses
Annie laid her head down in the roses.
She had ribbons, ribbons, ribbons, in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
Ten years the waves roll the ships home from the sea,
Thinkin well how it may blow in all good company,
If I tell another what your own lips told to me,
Let me lay neath the roses, till my eyes no longer see.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
One pane of glass in the window,
No one is complaining, no, come in and shut the door,
Faded is the crimson from the ribbons that she wore,
And its strange how no one comes round any more.
I dont know, it must have been the roses,
The roses or the ribbons in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
Annie laid her head down in the roses.
She had ribbons, ribbons, ribbons, in her long brown hair.
I dont know, maybe it was the roses,
All I know I could not leave her there.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Roses Are Red Violets Are Blue
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I've never found someone as patient
As you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you get lost
Then I'll look for you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You know I'm always sorry
When I hurt you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If I could
Id turn back to when i first kissed you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you don't believe me
Then what else can I do
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Baby no one knows me
As much as you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Believe I'll do anything
To get next to you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Tell me you still love me
And I'll run to you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You might not know
But I love you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
The stars shine bright
But not as bright as you do
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If I could pick anyone
I would pick you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
The first day I saw you
That's when I knew
Roses are red
Violets are blue
No one will ever love you
As much as I do
Roses are red violets are blue
Even if you get me mad
I'll still be in love with you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
My heart skips a beat
When I'm laying next to you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you love me
Then show me that that love is true
poem by Jennifer Alejandra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Like All Things With Time Roses Whither Away
Like all things with time roses whither away,
as does the frail beauty of lingering youth
which comes to sweet perfection on a day,
the waning of life is an ultimate truth,
as life and living is not what it seem
and daily we do live and play wantonly
while like roses, life is fair as we do deem,
but destiny strikes uncommonly
while all of life, living is just a show
in which some joy and some errors are made,
while with love at times we do like roses glow,
with time everything does eventually fade,
while at a time the canker of death lies,
even in the most beautiful of eyes.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mama Liked The Roses
(words & music by j. christopher)
Oh, mama liked the roses she grew them in the yard
But winter always came around and made the growing way too hard
Oh, mama liked the roses and when she had the time
Shed decorate the living room, for all us kids to see
When I hear the sunday bells ringing in the morning
I remember crying when she used to sing
Oh, mama liked the roses but most of all she cared
About the way we learned to live
And if we said our prayers
You know I kept the family bible
With a rose that she saved inside
It was pressed between the pages
Like it had found a place to hide
Oh, mama liked the roses in such a special way
We bring them every mothers day
And put them on her grave
Oh, mama liked the roses mmmm
Mama liked the roses
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On an Air of Rameau
A melancholy desire of ancient things
Floats like a faded perfume out of the wires;
Pallid lovers, what unforgotten desires,
Whispered once, are retold in your whisperings?
Roses, roses, and lilies with hearts of gold,
These you plucked for her, these she wore in her breast;
Only Rameau's music remembers the rest,
The death of roses over a heart grown cold.
But these sighs? Can ghosts then sigh from the tomb?
Life then wept for you, sighed for you, chilled your breath?
It is the melancholy of ancient death
The harpsichord dreams of, sighing in the room.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!