Related quotes: The spring-wind pass'd through the...

From Lightning and Tempest

The spring-wind pass'd through the forest, and whispered low in the leaves,
And the cedar toss'd her head, and the oak stood firm in his pride ;
The spring-wind pass'd through the town, through the housetops, casements, and eaves,
And whisper'd low in the hearts of the men, and the men replied,
Singing—'Let us rejoice in the light
Of our glory, and beauty, and might ;
Let us follow our own devices, and foster our own desires.
As firm as our oaks in our pride, as our cedars fair in our sight,
We stand like the trees of the forest that brave the frosts and the fires.'

The storm went forth to the forest, the plague went forth to the town,
And the men fell down to the plague, as the trees fell down to the gale ;
And their bloom was a ghastly pallor, and their smile was a ghastly frown,
And the song of their hearts was changed to a wild, disconsolate wail,
Crying—'God ! we have sinn'd, we have sinn'd,
We are bruised, we are shorn, we are thinn'd,
Our strength is turn'd to derision, our pride laid low in the dust,
Our cedars are cleft by Thy lightnings, our oaks are strew'd by Thy wind,
And we fall on our faces seeking Thine aid, though Thy wrath is just.'

poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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Related quotes

The Trees

Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
There is unrest in the forest
There is trouble with the trees
For the maples want more sunligh
And the oaks ignore their pleas
The trouble with the maples
(and theyre quite convinced theyre right)
They say the oaks are just too lofty
And they grab up all the light
But the oaks cant help their feelings
If they like the way theyre made
And they wonder why the maples
Cant be happy in their shade?
There is trouble in the forest
And the creatures all have fled
As the maples scream 'oppression!'
And the oaks, just shake their heads
So the maples formed a union
And demanded equal rights
the oaks are just too greedy
We will make them give us light
Now theres no more oak oppression
For they passed a noble law
And the trees are all kept equal
By hatchet,
Axe,
And saw ...

song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We go no more to the Forest

WE go no more to the forest,
The rimus are all cut down.
They are built into roof and sill and wall,
Into floors that thrill to the last foot-fall
In the dancing of the town.

We go no more to the forest,
The kauris are all cut down.
They are built into ships so stout and strong,
Bearing their cargoes safe along,
Sailing from town to town.

We go no more to the forest,
The ratas are all cut down.
There are cornfields, golden and green and wide,
For the tangled depths where a world might hide,
And our lawns lie smooth in town.

We go no more to the forest:
Young, wild things are all cut down.
We are buying and selling and making love,
As the grown folk do, with a roof above,
And our hearts are at home in town.

poem by Mary Colborne-Veel
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The USDA And Trichinella Worms

At the USDA
they don't care
how trichinella worms
squirm
in the flesh
of butchered innocent pigs.

They have muzzled the truth about
Mad Cow, Mad Pig, Mad Chicken,
Mad Deer, Mad Fish, Mad Sheep,
Mad Elk etc.

Through the USDA Forest Service
old trees which have stood
for centuries, (one of the last 700 year old
cedars) were cut
down
.We are the land of skinny trees.

The Forest Service sets
'controlled burn' fires..
when the wind changes
fires have destroyed millions
of acres.

The USDA does not enforce
the lab inspection laws.
The result is animal agony,
filthy labs, and redundant
research.

This regime selected Ann
Veneman from the American
Meat Institute to be its head.
Now as the head of UNICEF
she is trying to poison the
world's children with
cadavers of animal flesh

Their agents have destroyed
food
coops in Washington,
infiltrated vegetarian and
vegan groups.

********
Whether under Dan Glickman, Ann Veneman, Ed Schafer
the USDA policy has remained the same.

poem by O. Anna Niemus
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My Silence Shall Be

i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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84

my silence shall be

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Foxfire Suite

This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the different directions album, and has also been released on the gift you are and the john denver collection - rocky mountain high a
.
Spring is alive
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Over a hundred years ago
We came to carolina
Far across the water
Its a long hard road
With little more than courage
We came seeking independence
A little less than nothin
Is a heavy load
From the heather of the highlands
We have found the smokie mountains
Hard work and simple ways
And life is good
Life is good
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
You are
You are every morning sunrise
You are every rain
You are every peal of laughter
You are every cry of pain
You are all the summer flowers
You are all the falling leaves
You are everyone rejoicing
You are everyone who greaves
You are all my unknown secrets
You are all my hidden fears
You are known in lovers kisses
You are seen in childhood tears
You are where the stars are shining
You are where the rainbow ends
You are why the war is over
You are how the peace begins
Whisper the wind
Whisper the wind over the water
Whisper the wind all through the night
Whisper the wind along the canyon
Whisper the wind into the night
Whisper the wind brothers and sisters
Whisper the wind all the same
Whisper the wind love one another
Whisper the wind your precious name
Spring is alive (reprise)
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Over a hundred years ago
We came to carolina
Far across the water
Its a long hard road
With little more than courage
We came seeking independence
A little less than nothin
Is a heavy load
From the heather of the highlands
We have found the smokie mountains
Hard work and simple ways
And life is good
Life is good
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Words and music by john denver

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Frozen Vapours

Heavily overcast sky
With dark clouds
Gentle piercing wind
Rattles oaks, deodhars and pines
Whispers to rodhodendrons
Bloom time not far behind
Birds to safe havens fly
With spring
Again to arrive
Oaks, deodhars and pines
And apple trees
Not far behind
Greet the frozen vapours
With a warm smile.

poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Meditations after Li Po for M lady Helen

I
I follow in the footsteps
of old poets of the past.
As geese fly south in autumn.
Instinct is my only guide.
My attempts to emulate,
may not bear such worthy fruit.
I can only do my best

II
The trees discard all their leaves
and face winter nakedly.
I ask myself why this should be
but I receive no reply.
Winter winds pass freely through
the leafless twigs and branches.
Dead leaves return to the earth.

III
The trees stand as sentinels
coated with white bitter frost
Bowing in submission
to the power of the wind.
Better to bend than to break,
the trees know instinctively
the wind dies as spring returns.

Only when the time is right
the geese will return once more.
The trees will put forth new leaves,
flowers spring up underfoot
The spring sunshine will inspire
Poets to take up their brush
and ink: To write poetry.

21-Oct-07

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Vanished

It was not a forest more like a few forgotten trees
by the road, they stood close together as seeking
protection from vandals. Inside the day was dark
and I heard twigs breaking off, but saw no birds or
squirrels. Perhaps it was the spirits of the people
who had lived here but had died out as the forest
gave way to farm land and was reduced to dismal
woods of evergreens that was helpless against
agricultural progress. A way of life, beyond repair,
as a dead language that is but whisper in the wind.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Storm And The Bush

There are only two things in the world—
The storm in the air and the stretch of green leaves;
The flesh of the forest that quivers and heaves
As the blast on its bosom is hurled.
Above is the whip of the wind
That scourges the cowering forest beneath:
The Storm spits the hiss of the hail from his teeth,
And leaves the world writhing behind!
Like a beast that is bound in a cage
When the keeper's lash lights and the keeper's goad stings,
Each tree his great limbs to his torturer flings
In a groaning and impotent rage.
As the leaves to a fiercer gust lean
The wind throws their undersides upward to sight,
And the foam of the forest-sea flashes to white
Out over full fathoms of green.

poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Home From The Forest

Oh the neon lights were flashin
And the icy wind did blow
The water seeped into his shoes
And the drizzle turned to snow
His eyes were red, his hopes were dead
And the wine was runnin low
And the old man came home
From the forest
His tears fell on the sidewalk
As he stumbled in the street
A dozen faces stopped to stare
But no one stopped to speak
For his castle was a hallway
And the bottle was his friend
And the old man stumbled in
From the forest
Up a dark and dingy staircase
The old man made his way
His ragged coat around him
As upon his cot he lay
And he wondered how it happened
That he ended up this way
Getting lost like a fool
In the forest
And as he lay there sleeping
A vision did appear
Upon his mantle shining
A face of one so dear
Who had loved him in the springtime
Of a long-forgotten year
When the wildflowers did bloom
In the forest
She touched his grizzled fingers
And she called him by his name
And then he heard the joyful sound
Of children at their games
In an old house on a hillside
In some forgotten town
Where the river runs down
From the forest
With a mighty roar the big jets soar
Above the canyon streets
And the con men con but life goes on
For the city never sleeps
And to an old forgotten soldier
The dawn will come no more
For the old man has come home
From the forest

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Green Roads

The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,

Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.

Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.

An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.

In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.

It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.

That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,

For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see

The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.

poem by Edward Thomas
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Oh Fairest of the Rural Maids

Oh fairest of the rural maids!
Thy birth was in the forest shades;
Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky,
Were all that met thy infant eye.

Thy sports, thy wanderings, when a child,
Were ever in the sylvan wild;
And all the beauty of the place
Is in thy heart and on thy face.

The twilight of the trees and rocks
Is in the light shade of thy locks;
Thy step is as the wind, that weaves
Its playful way among the leaves.

Thine eyes are springs, in whose serene
And silent waters heaven is seen;
Their lashes are the herbs that look
On their young figures in the brook.

The forest depths, by foot unpressed,
Are not more sinless than thy breast;
The holy peace, that fills the air
Of those calm solitudes, is there.

poem by William Cullen Bryant
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Friends of the Forest (Memories of Clayoquot)

A small band of protesters
gathered in the forest.
Together their voices growing,
rising on the wind.
A Chorus.

'Stop cutting the tree's'
they cry.
'Stop raping the land.
Our Mother Earth gives us life,
touch her with a gentle hand.'

No Help
from government officials.
'Just pass the tax.' they say.
And the workers in the forest
don't want to find another pay.

So the Friends of the Forest
take a stand to show us how
the power of our words and actions
can start a change
here and now.

The future's in our human hand.
Reuse the trees.
Replant the land.
Show the world a better way
as the forest's guardian.

We are God's
each of us
in a small way,
creators of a future world
with each choice we make today.

poem by Angela Michel
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Tuvvi Tuvvi

SERENADING THE SEASON OF SPRING WITH SMILES
ARE THE BIRDS SINGING MELODY OF TUVVI TUVVI
DANCING TO THE BEAUTY OF BLOOMING DAFFODILS
ARE THE LEAVES IN THE WIND WHISTLING TUVVI TUVVI

USHERING THE WARM SUNSHINE OF THE SPRING
ARE THE WALTZING SHADOWS SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
BORDERING THE GREEN GRASS ALL AROUND BEAMING
ARE THE SWAYING TREES SINGING TUVVI TUVVI

WELCOMING THE BRIGHT SPRING IS THE BEAUTIFUL MORNING
REFLECTING ITS LIGHT ON FLOWING STREAMS OF SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
SEEING THE SIGNS OF NEW LIFE PRAISING
ARE THE GRATEFUL HEARTS SINGING TUVVI TUVVI

BLOOMING ARE THE FLOWERS IN SPRING COLORS
INVITING THE BEES BUZZING TUVVI TUVVI
FILLING THIS WORLD WITH SWEET SOUNDS OF LAUGHTER
ARE THE CHILDREN SINGING TUVVI TUVVI

Transalation of Poem by KUVEMPU

poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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Dust In The Wind

Music : Kerry Livgren
Lyrics: Kerry Livgren
I close my eyes
Only for a moment and the moment's gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Now, Don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind

song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am

I am a tree,
Amongst many,
Growing in the backwoods,
As a person lost in a world of millions-
I stand proudly, and
Strong against the wind,
Bearing flowers in the spring and
Leaves, so green in the summertime…
In the autumn my foliage
Transforms to oranges, reds and browns an then fall,
Leaving me barren in the wintertime,
The storms that arrive so unexpectedly, I fear-
And even more so,
The forest fires that rage and that I have no power to stop-
Losing my branches, when lightening strikes I fear,
Or losing myself in an upsurge of flames-
I never know when my life could end,
Or when I would become none but a
Pile of sticks or logs
To which someone could light a match-
I am a tree, amongst many,
Though in some ways stronger than the others,
I am a special one, bearing flowers of a different color and
Branches that appear thinner and weaker
Than surrounding trees,
Though mine have yet to fall-
Someday a hurricane shall sweep through the forest and
Every tree shall be fallen to the wind-
Though I shall remain standing alone-
Fires may burn and storms shall come and go-
But my greatest fear is that
I shall never grow tall and scrape the magnificent blue sky,
Where angels sing and stars scintillate, and
That glorious sunrises and sets-
So much like those people who are angry and are
Always in the darkness-
It hurts sometimes to be special, even though unique-
As everyone fears those that are different-
Even if one is none but a tree, for
A tree that is different could be harmful and inevitably-
Someone will cut you down- and the flowers that once adorned you
Shall perish and be forgotten…

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Until they lose everything

In the Springtime
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most beautiful flowers
In the Summertime
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most beloved fruits
In the Autumn time
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most painful leaves
In the Winter time
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their hope.
And the wind beats again those trees
Until they lose
Their most important spring buds
Again and again
Until they lose their sap
Moreover
The wind beats the trees
Until they collapse down
To the ground.

poem by Marieta Maglas
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Whispering Wind

Standing amid the forest trees
I feel so insignificant.
Small and unimportant can be
Very humbling among the plants
And underbrush that are dwarfed by
The regal, deciduous trees.
Quiet is defined by the sigh
Of the wind breathing through the leaves
And serenity thrives beneath
This lushest leaf-green canopy.
I walk along an ancient path
Once tread by aborigines.
Then, out of the blue, the soft wind
Whispered, ” you're home again my friend.”

poem by Albert Ahearn
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Wind

I am no more but you live on,
And the wind, whining and complaining,
Is shaking house and forest, straining
Not single fir trees one by one
But the whole wood, all trees together,
With all the distance far and wide,
Like sail-less yachts in stormy weather
When moored within a bay they lie.
And this not out of wanton pride
Or fury bent on aimless wronging,
But to provide a lullaby
For you with words of grief and longing,

poem by Boris Pasternak
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