After Long Silence
Speech after long silence; it is right,
All other lovers being estranged or dead,
Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade,
The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night,
That we descant and yet again descant
Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:
Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
Words For Music Perhaps
I - CRAZY JANE AND THE BISHOP
BRING me to the blasted oak
That I, midnight upon the stroke,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
May call down curses on his head
Because of my dear Jack that's dead.
Coxcomb was the least he said:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
Nor was he Bishop when his ban
Banished Jack the Journeyman,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
Nor so much as parish priest,
Yet he, an old book in his fist,
Cried that we lived like beast and beast:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
The Bishop has a skin, God knows,
Wrinkled like the foot of a goose,
(All find safety in the tomb.)
Nor can he hide in holy black
The heron's hunch upon his back,
But a birch-tree stood my Jack:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
Jack had my virginity,
And bids me to the oak, for he
(all find safety in the tomb.)
Wanders out into the night
And there is shelter under it,
But should that other come, I spit:
The solid man and the coxcomb.
II - CRAZY JANE REPROVED
I CARE not what the sailors say:
All those dreadful thunder-stones,
All that storm that blots the day
Can but show that Heaven yawns;
Great Europa played the fool
That changed a lover for a bull.
Fol de rol, fol de rol.
To round that shell's elaborate whorl,
Adorning every secret track
With the delicate mother-of-pearl,
Made the joints of Heaven crack:
So never hang your heart upon
A roaring, ranting journeyman.
Fol de rol, fol de rol.
III - CRAZY JANE ON THE DAY OF JUDGMENT
'LOVE is all
Unsatisfied
That cannot take the whole
Body and soul';
And that is what Jane said.
'Take the sour
If you take me
I can scoff and lour
And scold for an hour.'
'That's certainly the case,' said he.
'Naked I lay,
The grass my bed;
Naked and hidden away,
That black day';
And that is what Jane said.
'What can be shown?
What true love be?
All could be known or shown
If Time were but gone.'
'That's certainly the case,' said he.
IV - CRAZY JANE AND JACK THE JOURNEYMAN
I KNOW, although when looks meet
I tremble to the bone,
The more I leave the door unlatched
The sooner love is gone,
For love is but a skein unwound
Between the dark and dawn.
A lonely ghost the ghost is
That to God shall come;
I -- love's skein upon the ground,
My body in the tomb --
Shall leap into the light lost
In my mother's womb.
But were I left to lie alone
In an empty bed,
The skein so bound us ghost to ghost
When he turned his head
passing on the road that night,
Mine must walk when dead.
V - CRAZY JANE ON GOD
THAT lover of a night
Came when he would,
Went in the dawning light
Whether I would or no;
Men come, men go;
All things remain in God.
Banners choke the sky;
Men-at-arms tread;
Armoured horses neigh
In the narrow pass:
All things remain in God.
Before their eyes a house
That from childhood stood
Uninhabited, ruinous,
Suddenly lit up
From door to top:
All things remain in God.
I had wild Jack for a lover;
Though like a road
That men pass over
My body makes no moan
But sings on:
All things remain in God.
VI - CRAZY JANE TALKS WITH THE BISHOP
I MET the Bishop on the road
And much said he and I.
'Those breasts are flat and fallen now,
Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion,
Not in some foul sty.'
'Fair and foul are near of kin,
And fair needs foul,' I cried.
'My friends are gone, but that's a truth
Nor grave nor bed denied,
Learned in bodily lowliness
And in the heart's pride.
'A woman can be proud and stiff
When on love intent;
But Love has pitched his mansion in
The place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent.'
VII - CRAZY JANE GROWN OLD LOOKS AT THE DANCERS
I FOUND that ivory image there
Dancing with her chosen youth,
But when he wound her coal-black hair
As though to strangle her, no scream
Or bodily movement did I dare,
Eyes under eyelids did so gleam;
Love is like the lion's tooth.
When She, and though some said she played
I said that she had danced heart's truth,
Drew a knife to strike him dead,
I could but leave him to his fate;
For no matter what is said
They had all that had their hate;
Love is like the lion's tooth.
Did he die or did she die?
Seemed to die or died they both?
God be with the times when I
Cared not a thraneen for what chanced
So that I had the limbs to try
Such a dance as there was danced --
Love is like the lion's tooth.
VIII - GIRL'S SONG
I WENT out alone
To sing a song or two,
My fancy on a man,
And you know who.
Another came in sight
That on a stick relied
To hold himself upright;
I sat and cried.
And that was all my song --
When everything is told,
Saw I an old man young
Or young man old?
IX - YOUNG MAN'S SONG
'SHE will change,' I cried.
'Into a withered crone.'
The heart in my side,
That so still had lain,
In noble rage replied
And beat upon the bone:
'Uplift those eyes and throw
Those glances unafraid:
She would as bravely show
Did all the fabric fade;
No withered crone I saw
Before the world was made.'
Abashed by that report,
For the heart cannot lie,
I knelt in the dirt.
And all shall bend the knee
To my offended heart
Until it pardon me.
X - HER ANXIETY
EARTH in beauty dressed
Awaits returning spring.
All true love must die,
Alter at the best
Into some lesser thing.
Prove that I lie.
Such body lovers have,
Such exacting breath,
That they touch or sigh.
Every touch they give,
Love is nearer death.
Prove that I lie.
XI - HIS CONFIDENCE
UNDYING love to buy
I wrote upon
The corners of this eye
All wrongs done.
What payment were enough
For undying love?
I broke my heart in two
So hard I struck.
What matter? for I know
That out of rock,
Out of a desolate source,
Love leaps upon its course.
XII - LOVE'S LONELINESS
OLD fathers, great-grandfathers,
Rise as kindred should.
If ever lover's loneliness
Came where you stood,
Pray that Heaven protect us
That protect your blood.
The mountain throws a shadow,
Thin is the moon's horn;
What did we remember
Under the ragged thorn?
Dread has followed longing,
And our hearts are torn.
XIII - HER DREAM
I DREAMED as in my bed I lay,
All night's fathomless wisdom come,
That I had shorn my locks away
And laid them on Love's lettered tomb:
But something bore them out of sight
In a great tumult of the air,
And after nailed upon the night
Berenice's burning hair.
XIV - HIS BARGAIN
WHO talks of Plato's spindle;
What set it whirling round?
Eternity may dwindle,
Time is unwound,
Dan and Jerry Lout
Change their loves about.
However they may take it,
Before the thread began
I made, and may not break it
When the last thread has run,
A bargain with that hair
And all the windings there.
XV - THREE THINGS
'O CRUEL Death, give three things back,'
Sang a bone upon the shore;
'A child found all a child can lack,
Whether of pleasure or of rest,
Upon the abundance of my breast':
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.
'Three dear things that women know,'
Sang a bhone upon the shore;
'A man if I but held him so
When my body was alive
Found all the pleasure that life gave':
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.
'The third thing that I think of yet,'
Sang a bone upon the shore,
'Is that morning when I met
Face to face my rightful man
And did after stretch and yawn':
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.
XVI - LULLABY
BELOVED, may your sleep be sound
That have found it where you fed.
What were all the world's alarms
To mighty paris when he found
Sleep upon a golden bed
That first dawn in Helen's arms?
Sleep, beloved, such a sleep
As did that wild Tristram know
When, the potion's work being done,
Roe could run or doe could leap
Under oak and beechen bough,
Roe could leap or doe could run;
Such a sleep and sound as fell
Upon Eurotas' grassy bank
When the holy bird, that there
Accomplished his predestined will,
From the limbs of Leda sank
But not from her protecting care.
XVII - AFTER LONG SILENCE
SPEECH after long silence; it is right,
All other lovers being estranged or dead,
Unfriendly lamplight hid under its shade,
The curtains drawn upon unfriendly night,
That we descant and yet again descant
Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song:
Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young
We loved each other and were ignorant.
XVIII - MAD AS THE MIST AND SNOW
BOLT and bar the shutter,
For the foul winds blow:
Our minds are at their best this night,
And I seem to know
That everything outside us is
Mad as the mist and snow.
Horace there by Homer stands,
Plato stands below,
And here is Tully's open page.
How many years ago
Were you and I unlettered lads
Mad as the mist and snow?
You ask what makes me sigh, old friend,
What makes me shudder so?
I shudder and I sigh to think
That even Cicero
And many-minded Homer were
Mad as the mist and snow.
XIX - THOSE DANCING DAYS ARE GONE
COME, let me sing into your ear;
Those dancing days are gone,
All that silk and satin gear;
Crouch upon a stone,
Wrapping that foul body up
In as foul a rag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
Curse as you may I sing it through;
What matter if the knave
That the most could pleasure you,
The children that he gave,
Are somewhere sleeping like a top
Under a marble flag?
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
I thought it out this very day.
Noon upon the clock,
A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,
Whether to maid or hag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup,
The moon in a silver bag.
XX - 'I AM OF IRELAND'
AM of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity,
Come dance with me in Ireland.'
One man, one man alone
In that outlandish gear,
One solitary man
Of all that rambled there
Had turned his stately head.
That is a long way off,
And time runs on,' he said,
'And the night grows rough.'
I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity
And dance with me in Ireland.'
The fiddlers are all thumbs,
Or the fiddle-string accursed,
The drums and the kettledrums
And the trumpets all are burst,
And the trombone,' cried he,
'The trumpet and trombone,'
And cocked a malicious eye,
'But time runs on, runs on.'
I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity
And dance with me in Ireland.'
XXI - THE DANCER AT CRUACHAN AND CRO-PATRICK
I, PROCLAIMING that there is
Among birds or beasts or men
One that is perfect or at peace.
Danced on Cruachan's windy plain,
Upon Cro-patrick sang aloud;
All that could run or leap or swim
Whether in wood, water or cloud,
Acclaiming, proclaiming, declaiming Him.
XXII - TOM THE LUNATIC
SANG old Tom the lunatic
That sleeps under the canopy:
'What change has put my thoughts astray
And eyes that had s-o keen a sight?
What has turned to smoking wick
Nature's pure unchanging light?
'Huddon and Duddon and Daniel O'Leary.
Holy Joe, the beggar-man,
Wenching, drinking, still remain
Or sing a penance on the road;
Something made these eyeballs weary
That blinked and saw them in a shroud.
'Whatever stands in field or flood,
Bird, beast, fish or man,
Mare or stallion, cock or hen,
Stands in God's unchanging eye
In all the vigour of its blood;
In that faith I live or die.'
XXIII - TOM AT CRUACHAN
ON Cruachan's plain slept he
That must sing in a rhyme
What most could shake his soul:
'The stallion Eternit
Mounted the mare of Time,
'Gat the foal of the world.'
XXIV - OLD TOM AGAIN
THINGS out of perfection sail,
And all their swelling canvas wear,
Nor shall the self-begotten fail
Though fantastic men suppose
Building-yard and stormy shore,
Winding-sheet and swaddling -- clothes.
XXV - THE DELPHIC ORACLE UPON PLOTINUS
BEHOLD that great Plotinus swim,
Buffeted by such seas;
Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him,
But the Golden Race looks dim,
Salt blood blocks his eyes.
Scattered on the level grass
Or winding through the grove
plato there and Minos pass,
There stately Pythagoras
And all the choir of Love.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lower Room
How soft the lamplight falls
On pictures, books,
And pleasant coloured walls
And curtains drawn!
How happily one looks
On glowing flame and ember;
Ah, why should one remember
Dew and dawn!
Here age and wisdom sit
Calm and discreet,
Life and the fruit of it
Are here in truth,
Whose gathering once was sweet--
Wisdom and age! Well met!
Yet neither can forget
Folly and youth!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't die this winter
Don't die this unfriendly winter and interrupt it
Unfriendly people should speak and go
It's a cold winter seasons are cousins
They visit one, at the time
Even the world is trembling
is in white dress
Smoke oozing from its mouth
Its cold dry winter
And all the seasons are on succession
It's a windy winter
Its hard to live
This winter is unusual
It freeze the pockets of the pocketers
Is a cloudy winter and sun is scarcity
We are all out for it
We all hunt it like hunters
And hunted like an animal
When we find it
We lean on the walls like lizards
Its winter of winters
All our cloths are on us and still freezing
It's a Monday of this winter
No one in school and everywhere else
Coldness blare our idea
No birds and animals out
It's freezing to death
Don't die this winter
If you die you might be buried with ice
And snore will be the congregation
Wind will be a choir
It's a winter of questions
If you die today
You will not receive attention you need
Peter will be on fire and other gatekeepers
No one will welcome you in heaven
When you go to hell
Devil will be unfriendly too
he doesn't like visitors on winter
he will ask you to light up your own fire
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beethoven
He cursed the day when he was born;
And deaf and desolate,
Resolved, in bitterness forlorn,
To end his hapless fate.
But as the deeper silence grew—
An exile from the throng,
His yearning spirit voices drew
From inner founts of song;
And he who called unfriendly death
To calm rebellious strife,
Won from his own despair the breath
Of an immortal life.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Mine and Thine (1904)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Way Young Lovers Do
(van morrison)
Originally contained in van morrison's astral weeks
Oh...
We strolled through fields all wet with rain
And back along the lane again
There in the sunshine
In the sweet summertime
Oh the way that young lovers do
I kissed you on the lips once more
We said goodbye at your front door
There in the nighttime
Love, that's the right time
Oh to feel the way that young lovers do
And we sat on our own star and dreamed of the way that we were and the
Way that we wanted to be
And we sat on our own star and dreamed of the way that i was for you
And that you were for me
And then we long to dance the night away
Turned to each other, saying 'i love you, baby i love you'
Oh the way that young lovers do
Lovers do...
Do, do, do, do...
The way young lovers do
Do, do, do, do...
The way young lovers do...
And we sat on our own star and dreamed of the way that we were and the way
That we wanted to be
And we sat on our own star and dreamed of the way that i was for you
And you were for me
Oh baby, baby.
And then we long to dance the night away
And turned to each other, saying 'i love you, baby i love you'
Oh the way...
I held her with her looking down
And i kissed her, with the snow falling down
In the street light
It was a sweet light
And the way that young...
Oh, the way that young lovers...
Oh the way that young... that young lovers...
That young lovers do.
(good night)
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ignorance And Rudeness
Was it a foul smell from my direction that in the wind to them did blow
For they passed me by without speaking when to them i said hello
They seemed cold and unfriendly though them i did not know
At the strangeness of some human behaviour my wonder only grow.
Or are they short of hearing since they did not look my way
Though such instances in our daily lives we meet with every day
Without even once speaking from their lives me they did exclude
Some people can be ignorant as well as very rude.
Many words that end with ism I come across on every street
And racism and ageism I often seem to meet
Why some people are so up themselves I often wonder why
Their silence seems offensive as they ignore your greeting hi.
On the next time that i meet these two i will pay them less respect
And from appearing silly i will be more circumspect
The disrespect that they show to me in like i can repay
For ignorance and rudeness are games more than one can play.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Silent Night, Holy Night
(After Mategna’s “Night”)
Claim this night,
The silent night, holy night of Christmas that pierces through
The noisy night, unholy night of Empire.
The night of Empire is darkness of capitalist globalization;
Its voice, the loud lies of big business, the jingles of their ads,
Fascist bombs and the shrieks of torture in prison camps.
Its night of unholiness envelops factories and slums and war-torn countries;
Denuded forests and unfriendly genetically modified farms;
Hungry children and refugees and the unemployed;
The sick and the lonely; you and me.
The silent night, holy night of Christmas breaks through the night of Empire
And births light from light for us to see:
A Mother fascinated by new-born revelation cradled in her arms;
And a donkey of burden playfully displaying its profile for the Child of promise.
The night frames hope and joy for eyes long violated by imperialist media.
The deep silence sounds the song of Word-Made-Flesh
And Woman’s heartbeat of life and love.
The night is a placard of prophetic protest and good news of future.
Enter the glow. Will it so.
Claim this night.
poem by Francisco R. Albano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silhouette (live)
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes,
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes.
Took a walk and passed your house late last night,
All the shades were pulled and drawn way down tight.
From within the dim light cast two silhouettes on the shade.
Oh what a lovely couple they made.
Put his arms around your waist, held you tight.
Kisses i could almost taste, in the night.
Wondered why i'm not the guy whose silhouettes on the shade.
I couldn't hide the tears in my eyes.
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes,
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes.
Lost control and rang your bell, i was sore,
"let me in or else i'll beat down your door".
Saw two strangers who had been two silhouettes on the shade,
My heart skipped a beat i was on the wrong street.
Rushed down to your house with wings on my feet,
Loved you like i've never loved you my sweet.
Vowed that you and i would be, two silhouettes on the shade.
All of our days two silhouettes on the shade.
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes,
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes.
Two silhouettes on the shade.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silhouettes
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes,
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes.
Took a walk and passed your house late last night,
All the shades were pulled and drawn way down tight.
From within the dim light cast two silhouettes on the shade.
Oh what a lovely couple they made.
Put his arms around your waist, held you tight.
Kisses I could almost taste, in the night.
Wondered why Im not the guy whose silhouettes on the shade.
I couldnt hide the tears in my eyes.
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes,
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes.
Lost control and rang your bell, I was sore,
Let me in or else Ill beat down your door.
Saw two strangers who had been two silhouettes on the shade,
My heart skipped a beat I was on the wrong street.
Rushed down to your house with wings on my feet,
Loved you like Ive never loved you my sweet.
Vowed that you and I would be, two silhouettes on the shade.
All of our days two silhouettes on the shade.
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes,
Silhouettes, silhouettes, silhouettes.
Two silhouettes on the shade.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nature is the mother and the habitat of man, even if sometimes a stepmother and an unfriendly home.
quote by John Dewey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The universe is not hostile, nor yet is it unfriendly. It is simply indifferent.
quote by John Andrew Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aching Hearts
Half a lifetime has now passed
since romance touched our hearts...
We were young lovers filled
with wonder and endless possibilities
The sun had never set on our love
until one fateful summer day
How could we know fate would fling our souls
so cruelly to opposite ends of the universe?
How could we understand
that destiny knew full well what
our minds did not want to know?
How deeply we plunged into
the depths of our souls, knowing
that young love would be sacrificed,
As fate commanded, we cleanse
polluted family bloodlines
Why did we live in diverse
and often unfriendly places?
Creating relationships
not chosen by loving hearts
rather from a place
of knowing, deep within
purposeful souls
We now look back at
the wisdom of our choices
yet are powerless to soothe
“Aching Hearts”
Although we’ve accepted
a path chosen by destiny
it's not without sorrow and pain
Alas, Hearts still yearn
for love from yesteryear,
In this lifetime we must trust
that God Knows that
we have chosen service to Him
and our blossoming souls,
above carnal love
When we unite again it shall be
in a place of truth and beauty
Indeed...
A new Eden where we shall love eternal
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A severe though not unfriendly critic of our institutions said that the cure for admiring the House of Lords was to go and look at it.
quote by Walter Bagehot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy VI. To a Lady, On the Language of Birds
Come then, Dione, let us range the grove,
The science of the feather'd choirs explore
Hear linnets argue, larks descant of love,
And blame the gloom of solitude, no more.
My doubt subsides-'tis no Italian song,
Nor senseless ditty, cheers the vernal tree:
Ah! who that hears Dione's tuneful tongue,
Shall doubt that music may with sense agree?
And come, my Muse! that lov'st the sylvan shade,
Evolve the mazes, and the mist dispel;
Translate the song; convince my doubting maid
No solemn dervise can explain so well-
Pensive beneath the twilight shades I sate,
The slave of hopeless vows and cold disdain!
When Philomel address'd his mournful mate,
And thus I construed the mellifluent strain.
'Sing on, my bird!-the liquid notes prolong;
At every note a lover sheds his tear;
Sing on, my bird!-'tis Damon hears thy song,
Nor doubt to gain applause, when lovers hear.
'He the sad source of our complaining knows!
A foe to Tereus, and to lawless love!
He mourns the story of our ancient woes;
Ah! could our music his complaints remove!
'Yon plains are govern'd by a peerless maid;
And see! pale Cynthia mounts the vaulted sky;
A train of lovers court the chequer'd shade:
Sing on, my bird! and hear thy mate's reply.
'Erewhile no shepherd to these woods retired,
No lover bless'd the glow-worm's pallid ray;
But ill-starr'd birds, that, listening, not admired;
Or, listening, envied our superior lay.
'Cheer'd by the sun, the vassals of his power,
Let such by day unite their jarring strains!
But let us choose the calm; the silent hour,
Nor want fit audience while Dione reigns.'
poem by William Shenstone
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My children, as long as you live, the shadow of the Hiss Case will brush you. In every pair of eyes that rests on you, you will see pass, like a cloud passing behind a woods in winter, the memory of your father - dissembled in friendly eyes, lurking in unfriendly eyes.
quote by Whittaker Chambers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Year's Chimes
What is the song the stars sing?
(And a million songs are as song of one)
This is the song the stars sing:
(Sweeter song's none)
One to set, and many to sing,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
One to stand, and many to cling,
The many things, and the one Thing,
The one that runs not, the many that run.
The ever new weaveth the ever old,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
Ever telling the never told;
The silver saith, and the said is gold,
And done ever the never done.
The chase that's chased is the Lord o' the chase,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
And the pursued cries on the race;
And the hounds in leash are the hounds that run.
Hidden stars by the shown stars' sheen:
(And a million suns are but as one)
Colours unseen by the colours seen,
And sounds unheard heard sounds between,
And a night is in the light of the sun.
An ambuscade of lights in night,
(And a million secrets are but as one)
And anight is dark in the sun's light,
And a world in the world man looks upon.
Hidden stars by the shown stars' wings,
(And a million cycles are but as one)
And a world with unapparent strings
Knits the stimulant world of things;
Behold, and vision thereof is none.
The world above in the world below,
(And a million worlds are but as one)
And the One in all; as the sun's strength so
Strives in all strength, glows in all glow
Of the earth that wits not, and man thereon.
Braced in its own fourfold embrace
(And a million strengths are as strength of one)
And round it all God's arms of grace,
The world, so as the Vision says,
Doth with great lightning-tramples run.
And thunder bruiteth into thunder,
(And a million sounds are as sound of one)
From stellate peak to peak is tossed a voice of wonder,
And the height stoops down to the depths thereunder,
And sun leans forth to his brother-sun.
And the more ample years unfold
(With a million songs as song of one)
A little new of the ever old,
A little told of the never told,
Added act of the never done.
Loud the descant, and low the theme,
(A million songs are as song of one)
And the dream of the world is dream in dream,
But the one Is is, or nought could seem;
And the song runs round to the song begun.
This is the song the stars sing,
(Tonèd all in time)
Tintinnabulous, tuned to ring
A multitudinous-single thing
(Rung all in rhyme).
poem by Francis Thompson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love's Pledge - from Mechthild of Magdeburg
Two lovers in an inner room withdrawn,
and speaking much of love, as one to one;
and yet their speech so ardent in its truth,
not sound but rather silence seems to reign.
These silent lovers are the soul and God;
their silence, prayer, which brought them, joins them, here;
they talk of all that lovers ever speak,
and plight their troth as lovers ever swear:
'Yet nought I have to give you, but myself;
and that I give, and beg of you to take;
and nought I ask of you, but that yourself
you give to me in truth for my soul's sake...'
No lovers' pledge more common, nor more true;
no love more constant; nor more holy vow.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boy With A Problem
I feel like a boy with a problem
I can't believe what we've forgotten
And i even slapped your face and made you cry
It's the last thing i want to do
Pull the curtains on me and you
Pull the carpet from under love
Pull out like young lovers do
You swore you wouldn't shout
If it's not your punch then its your pout
Days in silence try my temper
Nights spent drinking to remember
How memories are always tender
I crept out last night behind your back
The little they know might be the pieces i lack
Came home drunk
Talking in circles
The spirit is willing but i don't believe in miracles
I've got a problem but let's go to bed
I can roll over and i can play dead
But here i am in the doghouse instead
I feel like a boy with a problem
I can't believe all you've forgotten
Sleeping with forgiveness in your heart for me
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speech Of Gold!
If silence is to silence
the beautiful song of a day,
I prefer not that silence
I prefer a speech of gold
than a smoky silence
of a cloud of conflict;
or a wave cause only
troubles to a sea shore,
I prefer a word to transform
into a song for a day
and that day will break
the shells of silence
in one dawn of life.....
September 7,2009
poem by Rema Prasanaa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 23
Nothing is better for an ignorant man than silence, and if he were to consider it to be suitable, he would not be ignorant.
If thou possessest not the perfection of excellence
It is best to keep thy tongue within thy mouth.
Disgrace is brought on a man by his tongue.
A walnut, having no kernel, will be light.
A fool was trying to teach a donkey,
Spending all his time and efforts in the task.
A sage observed: ‘O ignorant man, what sayest thou?
Fear blame from the censorious in this vain attempt.
A brute cannot learn speech from thee.
Learn thou silence from a brute.’
Who does not reflect what he is to answer
Will mostly speak improperly.
Come. Either arrange thy words like a wise man
Or remain sitting silent like a brute.