Cui Bono
Oh! wind that whistles o'er thorns and thistles,
Of this fruitful earth like a goblin elf;
Why should he labour to help his neighbour
Who feels too reckless to help himself?
The wail of the breeze in the bending trees
Is something between a laugh and a groan;
And the hollow roar of the surf on the shore
Is a dull, discordant monotone;
I wish I could guess what sense they express,
There's a meaning, doubtless, in every sound,
Yet no one can tell, and it may be as well —
Whom would it profit? — The world goes round!
On this earth so rough we know quite enough,
And, I sometimes fancy, a little too much;
The sage may be wiser than clown or than kaiser,
Is he more to be envied for being such?
Neither more nor less, in his idleness
The sage is doom'd to vexation sure;
The kaiser may rule, but the slippery stool,
That he calls his throne, is no sinecure;
And as for the clown, you may give him a crown,
Maybe he'll thank you, and maybe not,
And before you can wink he may spend it in drink —
To whom does it profit? — We ripe and rot!
Yet under the sun much work is done
By clown and kaiser, by serf and sage;
All sow and some reap, and few gather the heap
Of the garner'd grain of a by-gone age.
By sea or by soil man is bound to toil,
And the dreamer, waiting for time and tide,
For awhile may shirk his share of the work,
But he grows with his dream dissatisfied;
He may climb to the edge of the beetling ledge,
Where the loose crag topples and well-nigh reels
'Neath the lashing gale, but the tonic will fail —
What does it profit? — Wheels within wheels!
Aye! work we must, or with idlers rust,
And eat we must our bodies to nurse;
Some folk grow fatter — what does it matter?
I'm blest if I do — quite the reverse;
'Tis a weary round to which we are bound,
The same thing over and over again;
Much toil and trouble, and a glittering bubble,
That rises and bursts, is the best we gain;
And we murmur, and yet 'tis certain we get
What good we deserve — can we hope for more? —
They are roaring, those waves, in their echoing caves —
To whom do they profit? — Let them roar!
poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Clown
Orbison/mcgill
I was a clown when I thought I had found
A love for me and only me but she laughed at the clown
Turned him down turned him down
I never frown ah, ah, ah, Im the clown
For it breaks my heart I play the part of a clown
Runnin round trouble bound Im the clown
I wander all around wondering if you ever cared
I go from place to place, I look from face to face
Hoping that you will be there
All over town the word is out its all around
That I love her still guess I always will Im the clown
Runnin round trouble bound Im the clown
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clown
I was a clown when I thought I had found
a love for me and only me but she laughed at the clown
turned him down turned him down
I never frown ah, ah, ah, I'm the clown
for it breaks my heart I play the part of a clown
runnin round trouble bound I'm the clown
I wander all around wondering if you ever cared
I go from place to place, I look from face to face
hoping that you will be there
All over town the word is out It's all around
that I love her still guess I always will I'm the clown
runnin round trouble bound I'm the clown
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pork Roll Egg & Cheese
When youve had your fun, and your work is done, you must not
Succumb
I can feel you breathe, its like a mega-weedge inside,
Please dont hide
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
When the guavas drained, eddie dingle remains
But we must further ourselves on
So dynamic is life, staring into the sights
Not right, but wrong in a good way
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
When youve had your fun, and your work is done, you must not succumb
I can feel you breathe, its like a mega-weedge inside,
Please dont hide
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Kaiser bun
Pork roll egg and cheese
(zzzz... eeezz..
(apluase and cheers)
-thank you!
-... thank you!
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pork Roll Egg & Cheese
When youve had your fun, and your work is done, you must not
Succumb
I can feel you breathe, its like a mega-weedge inside,
Please dont hide
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
When the guavas drained, eddie dingle remains
But we must further ourselves on
So dynamic is life, staring into the sights
Not right, but wrong in a good way
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
When youve had your fun, and your work is done, you must not succumb
I can feel you breathe, its like a mega-weedge inside,
Please dont hide
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese
If you please, on a kaiser bun
Kaiser bun
Pork roll egg and cheese
(zzzz... eeezz..
(apluase and cheers)
-thank you!
-... thank you!
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Said the Kaiser to the Spy
“Now tell me what can England do?”
Said the Kaiser to the Spy.
“She can do nought, your Majesty—
You rule the sea and sky.
Her day of destiny is done;
Her path of peace is plain;
For she dare never throw a troop
Across the Strait again.”
The Kaiser sent his mighty host,
With Bombast in advance,
To set his seal on Paris first,
And make an end of France.
Their guns were heard in Paris streets,
And trembling Europe heard;
(They’re staggering back in Belgium now)
And England said no word.
“Now tell me what can England do?”
Said the Kaiser to the Spy.
“She can do nought in Southern seas
Where her possessions lie!
Her colonies are arming now—
They only wait your aid!”
“I’ll send my ships,” the Kaiser said,
“And I will kill her trade!”
The Kaiser sent his cruisers forth
To do their worst or best;
And one made trouble in the North—
The Cocos tell the rest.
He sent a squadron to a coast
Where treachery prevailed—
Gra’mercy! They were stricken hard
On seas that Raleigh sailed!
“Now tell me what can England do?”
Said the Kaiser to the Spy.
“Her ports are all unfortified
And there your chances lie!”
He sent his ships to Scarborough,
And called them back again.
The Blucher lies in Channel ooze
With seven hundred men.
“Oh, tell me what can England do?”
Said the Kaiser to the Spy.
“She can’t hold Egypt for a day—
(I have it from On High.”)
And so the Kaiser paid the Turk
To put the matter through—
And England’s Queen of Egypt now,
And boss of Turkey too.
“Now tell me what shall England do?”
Said the Kaiser to the Spy.
You see that neither of them knew
Much more than you or I.
But the blooming thing that’s troubling me
As the pregnant weeks go by,
Is wotinell shall England do
When the Kaiser hangs that Spy!
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Giveth His Beloved Sleep
The long day passes with its load of sorrow:
In slumber deep
I lay me down to rest until tomorrow,
Thank God for sleep.
Thank God for all respite from weary toiling,
From cares that creep
Across our lives like evil shadows, spoiling
God's kindly sleep.
We plough and sow, and, as the hours grow later,
We strive to reap,
And build our barns, and hope to build them greater
Before we sleep.
We toil and strain and strive with one another
In hopes to heap
Some greater share of profit than our brother
Before we sleep.
What will it profit that with tears or laughter
Our watch we keep?
Beyond it all there lies the Great Hereafter!
Thank God for sleep!
For, at the last, beseeching Christ to save us
We turn with deep
Heartfelt thanksgiving unto God, who gave us
The Gift of Sleep.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Giveth His Beloved Sleep
The long day passes with its load of sorrow:
In slumber deep
I lay me down to rest until tomorrow --
Thank God for sleep.
Thank God for all respite from weary toiling,
From cares that creep
Across our lives like evil shadows, spoiling
God's kindly sleep.
We plough and sow, and, as the hours grow later,
We strive to reap,
And build our barns, and hope to build them greater
Before we sleep.
We toil and strain and strive with one another
In hopes to heap
Some greater share of profit than our brother
Before we sleep.
What will it profit that with tears or laughter
Our watch we keep?
Beyond it all there lies the Great Hereafter!
Thank God for sleep!
For, at the last, beseeching Christ to save us
We turn with deep
Heartfelt thanksgiving unto God, who gave us
The Gift of Sleep.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pork Roll Egg And Cheese
When you've had your fun, and your work is done,
You must not succumb.
I can feel you breathe. It's like a mega-weedge inside.
Please don't hide.
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
When the guava's drained, Eddie Dingle remains.
But we must further ourselves on.
So dynamic is life, staring into the sight's
Not right, but wrong in a good way.
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
When you've had your fun, and your work is done,
You must not succumb.
I can feel you breathe. It's like a mega-weedge inside.
Please don't hide.
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
Kaiser bun. Pork roll egg and cheese.
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pork Roll Egg And Cheese
When you've had your fun, and your work is done,
You must not succumb.
I can feel you breathe. It's like a mega-weedge inside.
Please don't hide.
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
When the guava's drained, Eddie Dingle remains.
But we must further ourselves on.
So dynamic is life, staring into the sight's
Not right, but wrong in a good way.
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
When you've had your fun, and your work is done,
You must not succumb.
I can feel you breathe. It's like a mega-weedge inside.
Please don't hide.
So mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
On a kaiser bun.
Mom, if you please, pass me the pork roll egg and cheese, if you please,
Kaiser bun. Pork roll egg and cheese.
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death Of A Clown
My makeup is dry and it clags on my chin
Im drowning my sorrows in whisky and gin
The lion tamers whip doesnt crack anymore
The lions they wont fight and the tigers wont roar
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
So lets all drink to the death of a clown
Wont someone help me to break up this crown
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
The old fortune teller lies dead on the floor
Nobody needs fortunes told anymore
The trainer of insects is crouched on his knees
And frantically looking for runaway fleas
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
So wont someone help me to break up this crown
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Lets all drink to the death of a clown
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laugh Clown Laugh
Laugh Clown laugh,
that's what they want me to do.
I guess I'm doing something right
because this Clown made you laugh too.
Laugh Clown laugh,
make everyone laugh real hard.
Besides, Who would it hurt?
Will anyone notice
how it has scarred?
Laugh Clown laugh,
but only for a while,
at least until you see
that the humor is in your denial.
poem by Cecelia Warner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I must swindle.
Hospitals are run for a profit.
Colleges are run for a profit.
Temples are run for a profit.
I must swindle to pay them.
11.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One who works for his own profit is likely to work hard. One who works for the use of others, without profit to himself, is likely not to work any harder than he must.
quote by B. Carroll Reece
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cotton Jenny
Theres a house on a hill
By a worn down weathered old mill
In the valley below where the river winds
Theres no such thing as bad times
And a soft southern flame
Oh cotton jennys her name
She wakes me up when the sun goes down
And the wheels of love go round
Wheels of love go round
Love go round, love go round
A joyful sound
I aint got a penny for cotton jenny to spend
But then the wheels go round
When the new day begins
I go down to the cotton gin
And I make my time worth while to them
Then I climb back up again
And she waits by the door
Oh cotton jenny Im sore
And she rubs my feet while the sun goes down
And the wheels of love go round
Wheels of love go round
Love go round, love go round
A joyful sound
I aint got a penny for cotton jenny to spend
But then the wheels go round
In the hot, sickly south
When they say well shut my mouth
I can never be free from the cotton grind
But I know I got whats mine
Shes a soft southern flame
Oh cotton jennys her name
She wakes me up when the sun goes down
And the wheels of love go round
Wheels of love go round
Love go round, love go round
A joyful sound
I aint got a penny for cotton jenny to spend
But then the wheels go round
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Letter Day
(tennant/lowe)
------------------
Go to work and take your calls
Hang the fruits
Of your labour on the walls
Such precision and care
What does it matter
If theres no one here to share
Flowers in the garden
Blue wine
The waiting for godot
And so much modern time?
All I want
Is what you want
Im always waiting
For a red letter day
The years perfecting a stance
Of measured cool
Fade into insignificance
The moment one starts to understand
What on earth
Does it profit a man?
All I want
Is what you want
Im always waiting
For a red letter day
For something special
Somehow new
Someone saying i love you
Baby, Im waiting
For that red letter day
You can sneer
Or disappear behind a veneer
Of self-control
But for all of those who dont fit in
Who follow their instincts
And are told they sin
This is a prayer for
A different way
All I want
Is what you want
Im always waiting
For a red letter day
Like christmas morning
When youre a kid
Admit you love me
And you always did
Baby Im hoping
For that red letter day
Today
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are free, but not to be evil, not to be indifferent to human suffering, not to profit from the people, from the work created and sustained through their spirit of political association, while refusing to contribute to the political state that we profit from.
quote by Jose Marti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The King’s Evil
They brought them up from their huts in the fens,
The woeful sufferers gaunt and grim;
They flocked from the city's noisome dens
To the Monarch's throne to be touched by him.
'For his touch,' they whisper, 'is sovereign balm,
The anointed King has a power to heal.'
Oh, the piteous prayers as the royal palm
Is laid on their necks while they humbly kneel!
Blind hope! But the cruel and cold deceit
A rich reward to the palace brings;
A snare for the untaught People's feet,
And a courtier's lie for the good of Kings.
But the years are sands, and they slip away
Till the baseless wall in the sun lies bare;
The touch of the King has no balm to-day,
And the Right Divine is the People's share.
The word remains: but the Evil now
Is caused, not cured, by imperial hands,—
The lightless soul and the narrow brow,
The servile millions in armed bands;
The sweat-wrung gold from the peasant's toil
Flung merrily out by the gambling lord,
Who is reckless owner of serf and soil,
And master of church and law and sword.
But the night has receded: the dawn like a tide
Creeps slow round the world, till the feet of the throne
Are lapped by the waves that shall seethe and ride
Where the titles are gulfed and the shields overblown.
Our Kings are the same as the Kings of old,
But a Man stands up where there crouched a clown;
The Evil shall die when his hand grows bold,
And the touch of the People is laid on the Crown!
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Universal Wheels
(natures retalliation)
All the fields are
Smoke and flame, fire in the sky
Its a state of emergency
Much more than meets the eye
Just hide away your tears
There are many more hidden fears
As the universal wheels
Go round n round n round
Rivers of pollution
Taking life from living things
Running out of oxygen
There is no way to win
We ignore the signs of nature
Got to learn to live beside her
As the universal wheels
Go round n round n round
Better take good care of
All the things you say and do
Round n round n round ...
Look out for the warning sign
Now its up to you
Theres a mighty eight point six
Waiting in the ground
When she opens up
This world will humble to the sound
There is only one real power
Creating life by the hour
See the universal wheels
See the universal wheels
See the universal wheels
Go round n round n round ...
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trouble is only opportunity in work clothes.
quote by Henry J. Kaiser
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trouble is only an opportunity in work clothes.
quote by Henry J. Kaiser
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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