On the day they were going to kill him, Santiago Nasar got up at five-thirty in the morning to wait for the boat the bishop was coming on.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez in Chronicle of a Death Foretold (1981), translated by Gregory Rabassa
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Spanish | In Italian | In Romanian
Related quotes
The Morning Sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Feels like another day, I wouldnt know
My loves away, from home today
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Its just the memory, of sunshine
In the morning, being close to me
And it was.....
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
Seems like the world is late, for I cant wait
For sunshine in the morning
Wait til the morning sunshine
Wait til the morning sunshine
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Misty River
This morning
Me in this Misty River
All the happiness
I am feeling inside myself
Misty River
The mist is coming
From this Misty River
There are clouds
In the sky
And the mist
Is caused by the condensation
Of the heat mixed in the cold water
Misty River
I am in a fishing boat
That boat is moving slowly in this
Misty river
It is early in the morning
I am eating my breakfast in the fishing boat in the middle of this
Misty River
I hear the birds singing early in the morning
In this Misty River
There must be trees because the sound of the birds is coming from the Branches
Misty River
So peaceful
It looks so different with the mist
No one is around but me
With my fishing boat
And the beautiful sound of the birds
It is so nice
To have a place to come to
Where I can
Hear the sound of the birds
And be left alone
With no one disturbing me
Misty River
This is my special place
And by afternoon
No clouds I will see
The birds are beautiful
Their song is just beautiful like mother nature intended it to be
If nobody else appreciates this Misty River
I do
Misty River
I will die for you
Misty River
I will shed my tears for you
I have been coming here for so long now
Misty River
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Journey Santiago
Journey Santiago
Discover in your search
A land in Love with mystery
It’s not far out of reach
Journey Santiago
Know Truth and know her well.
Forever on your travels
Hide not within your shell.
Forever Santiago,
Journey to discover
Mystery loves the land at hand,
Journey to recover.
Discover Santiago
Follow as the river flows.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thirty Frames A Second
Today I saw a film going backwards
Thirty frames a second
Was a man I recognised
Say who you are
I lost my job
Security
Self confidence
Bank account
Identity
The league of youth
Coming backward at me
Thirty frames a second
Say who you are
Go back to father
Father wheres my food?
You food is on the table
That cant be food
Its dirt
Say who you are
Look at my skin
Look at my face
Look at my arms
Getting younger
Going backwards
Thirty frames a second
Say who you are
I crash my car
Collapse in town
Young immigrants
And legionaires
Fighting back back backwards
Thirty frames a second
Say who you are
Some friends of mine
I thought were dead
A coming back
What are you doing coming back
Jack
Say who you are
Feel Im going backwards
Thirty frames a second
Lyrics : j kerr music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Bishop's Robes
Dressed in Bishop's robes
Terrifies me still
In Bishop's robes
Bastard headmaster
I'm not going back
I'm not going back
I'm not going back
Children taught to kill
To tear themselves to bits
On playing fields
Dressed in Bishop's robes
I'm not going back
I'm not going back
I'm not going back
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wednesday Morning Silence
At eleven O’clock in the morning,
I sit experiencing the stillness
of a Wednesday morning silence coming down.
It seems much earlier,
though the day is half done
after a fun filled Tuesday
that lasted long into the night.
I sit experiencing the stillness
and wondering in the silence
after the rain had come down.
The absent drip of raindrops
sounds like time ticking away
in the Wednesday morning silence coming down.
Sitting on my friends deck
as a cooling breeze rustles the leaves
in the silence of the morning
as I wait for everyone to wake
in a Wednesday Morning silence coming down
while I am on holiday.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Woman Of Salem
1692, six in the morning of june,
Sally kegley, age thirty-four,
Closed her diary shed kept for two scores.
Salem, salem, witches must be hung.
Let my daughter burn my book,
Let her learn to sew and cook.
Teach her not to read but weave,
Ask her not to speak but weep.
Salem, salem, witches must be hung.
Sally kegley knows how to cure the ill,
Sally kegley sees through us at will.
Salem, salem, witches must be hung.
All the towns people rushing to the hill,
Their eyes shining, ready for the kill.
Sallys flesh bound to the cross,
Her eyes searching for the ones who are close.
Oh, why? oh, why? oh, why? oh, why?
Oh, why? why? why? why? why? why? why?
Help! help! help! help!
Help! help! help! help!
Must kill, must hang, must kill, must hang,
Must kill, must hang, must kill, must hang,
Must kill, must hang, must kill, must hang,
Must kill, must hang...
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Kill The Band
The sky was screaming I lost you
I tried, but me what could I do?
Get out the bad undo your head think about what you say
Kill the band
Kill the band
I was caught dreaming of wealth and what I was taught was creeping in again
They get ahead you get so mad
Why do you care? its only money
Get out the bad undo your head think about what you say
Kill the band [x4]
If then it rains, Ill cover your eyes
The past has a way of running our lives
Learning to say the words that we hide
Kill the band [x4]
Pressures coming, I feel it coming down
Cancers coming, I feel it coming
song performed by by Ours
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
At The Port Of Kolambugan
the news is that
another storm is coming
and our boat is still on this port
that we fear
for once there was terror here
a bomb exploded
planted by this unknown terrorist
and many died
the boat was burned
and many bodies still burning
jumped and drowned in the sea
most of them
children and women
i am sensing the colder wind
from the sea
the touch of the
coming storm
i can sense its strength
while i wait
for the decision whether
to go sailing or not
so we can reach the
other island facing us
with a warm welcome
i look for a sign
and see this pigeon
hovering above
my head
as though saying
warning
do not,
i have all the reasons
to listen
we sleep here for the night
we shall let this storm pass
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stop and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five:
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five:
And all who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
poem by Samuel Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wait Till Your Boat Goes Down
Wait till your boat goes down
Thats when youll need me most
Wait till your boat goes down
And youre washed up on some foreign and
Unfamiliar coast
Yachtings fine
Sailing round and round in social circles
In a sea of diamonds and wine
Wait till you need a shoulder
A girls best friends not any consolation
When youre that much older
Skiings grand
Drawing classic lines around the millionaires
And moneymen from switzerland
Wait till you need a shoulder
A girls fox furs wont warm your heart
When youre that much older
And if youre late and man he sees you when youre young and looking good
Watch the big fish swim right out to take the bait you offered like you
Knew they would
Too much caviar only points to middle aged spread
There wont be room for many playboys in your single bed
Wait till your boat goes down
Thats when youll need me most
Wait till your boat goes down
And youre washed up!
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Atherton's Gambit
The Master played the bishop’s pawn,
For jest, while Atherton looked on;
The master played this way and that,
And Atherton, amazed thereat,
Said “Now I have a thing in view
That will enlighten one or two,
And make a difference or so
In what it is they do not know.”
The morning stars together sang
And forth a mighty music rang—
Not heard by many, save as told
Again through magic manifold
By such a few as have to play
For others, in the Master’s way,
The music that the Master made
When all the morning stars obeyed.
Atherton played the bishop’s pawn
While more than one or two looked on;
Atherton played this way and that,
And many a friend, amused thereat,
Went on about his business
Nor cared for Atherton the less;
A few stood longer by the game,
With Atherton to them the same.
The morning stars are singing still,
To crown, to challenge, and to kill;
And if perforce there falls a voice
On pious ears that have no choice
Except to urge an erring hand
To wreak its homage on the land,
Who of us that is worth his while
Will, if he listen, more than smile?
Who of us, being what he is,
May scoff at others’ ecstasies?
However we may shine to-day,
More-shining ones are on the way;
And so it were not wholly well
To be at odds with Azrael,—
Nor were it kind of any one
To sing the end of Atherton.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Trace
Trace him, chase him
through his evident sneakers.
The streets are quiet,
his pulse races; it’s a give-away!
Wait in a room,
then slip fluidly into the night.
Get gone, be gone
before lights rise to wakefulness.
Kill him, kill him,
he’s out to kill before the morning shine.
Stab his throat
until air turns to spurting blood.
Murder him, murder him
turn him into your victim.
Hide your face;
you are unknown, you don’t exist.
Floating above us all,
be the killer of killers.
You were his sole weakness,
kill him before he becomes yours.
poem by Janine Alyssa Navarro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What results?
A password I will never lose
Nice messages
And funny poems
Stories, too
Gifts to treasure
Love to remember
Maybe even friendship to last forever
Oh yes, my first adult kiss
To open my chrysalis
But will I be a pretty butterfly-she?
And all this at the age of thirty!
Life is oh so funny
Hihihihi
What else does it have in store for me?
I am eager to wait and see
Patiently
At the age of thirty
A bud
And I still gather may
My prime
As I am a female
Comes with the age of thirty
Havana Moon
Chant...
Me all alone
Jug of rum
Me stand and wait for the boat to come
Is lonely night is quiet the dark
The boat she late its 12 o clock
Me watches the tide easin in
Is low the moon and high the wind
Havana moon
Havana moon
Me all alone
Me open the rum
Is long the wait for the boat to come
American girl come back to me
Sail way across the sea
We dock in new york the buildings high
We find a home up in the sky
Havana moon...
Havana moon...
Me still alone me drinkin the rum
Begin to think that the boat no come
American girl she tell a lie
She say till then, but she mean goodbye
Havana moon...
Havana moon...
Me lay down alone, no good the rum
Me fall asleep and the boat she come
The girl she look till come the dawn
She weep and she cry
Return for home
The whistle blow me open my eyes
Bright the sun blue the sky
Me grab me shoes, me jump and me run
Me see the boat head for horizon
Havana moon is gone da rum
The boat she sail me love she gone
Havana moon...
Havana moon...
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Last Train To Clarkesville
Take the last train to Clarksville,
And I'll meet you at the station.
You can be be there by four thirty,
'Cause I made your reservation.
Don't be slow, oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
'Cause I'm leavin' in the morning
And I must see you again
We'll have one more night together
'Til the morning brings my train.
And I must go, oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
And I don't know if I'm ever coming home.
Take the last train to Clarksville.
I'll be waiting at the station.
We'll have time for coffee flavored kisses
And a bit of conversation.
Oh... Oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
Take the last train to Clarksville,
Now I must hang up the phone.
I can't hear you in this noisy
Railroad station all alone.
I'm feelin' low. Oh, no, no, no!
Oh, no, no, no!
And I don't know if I'm ever coming home.
Take the last train to Clarksville,
Take the last train to Clarksville,
[repeat and fade
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Smoke Of My Handgun
this 10 mm handgun made in Austria
is in my hand.
My coming days are curious
say frightened about what i shall do next with it.
My temple is calm.
My head is full like a cup filled with hot water.
There is no taste of coffee
It is 4 o'clock in the morning
And the streets in this town are all empty
Of people.
There is the possibility of using this handgun
To kill those insane witnesses
Dragging me to a crime that i have not done
Though deep within i want to do it.
Kill! kill! Kill! Shoot them with all the bullets
Of this Gun
This is what my mind is screaming.
My cousin is afraid of the possibilities of
My life.
I am not. I am certain. There is no way that a smoke
From this gun should come out
Without a Reason.
It is fragile, and so light, and Like all truths
No hand can capture it
And hold it forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Yeah I'm thirty-six, but on the show I'm thirty-two. Nobody wants to watch a thirty-six year old woman, so they decided to make me thirty-two. Much more appealing somehow.
quote by Ellen DeGeneres
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Thirty three years
Thirty three years
~
Soon I turn thirty three
And wonder what I have to show
I feel I have achieved very little
And have been going nowhere fast
I fear I am stuck in my ways
And this is my lot for life
I sit alone in writing this morning
With my usual coffee for one
I have loved, had my heart broken
Let opportunities slip away
Now I tend to do nothing
At least I wont feel hurt that way
I have spent time in solitary
And lost touch with the world
Please try and remember that
To excuse my lack of social grace
The pace of each year is picking up
While I am still young in some eyes
Still may yet have a lot to achieve
I look at the past thirty two years
And see myself an old man
Lonely and turning thirty three
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Fishers
The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And before the sun comes out the sky looks gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are off fishing
They left quite early at the break of day.
They tow their boat to the ramp at San Remo
But only on a calm and windless day
And within sight of land they dropp their anchor
Where the fish might be schooling on the quiet bay.
For them a pleasant way to spend their morning
To fish with rods and lines from boat for three hours or four
Especially when the hungry fish are biting
A good morning's catch some twenty fish or more.
The gentle waves against the boat keep lapping
And the sun breaks through the clouds just after nine
It must be soothing for the nerves and pleasant
To sit and relax and fish in the sun shine.
The chill of late Autumn is in the morning
And the sun at nine shines through the clouds of gray
And Jack Iversen and Kenny are out fishing
In their boat anchored on San Remo bay
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!