Don Juan's Serenade
Darkness descends
on Alpujara's golden land.
My guitar invites you,
come out my dear!
Whoever says that there are others
who can be compared to you,
whoever burns for your love,
I challenge them all to a duel!
Now the moon
has set the sky alight,
come out, Nisetta, oh come out, Nisetta,
on to your balcony, quickly!
From Seville to Granada
in the silence of the nights,
one can hear the sound of serenades
and the clashing of swords.
Much blood, many songs,
pour forth for the lovely ladies;
and I, for the loveliest one of all
am ready to give my song and my blood.
Now the moon
has set the sky alight,
Come out, Nisetta, oh come out, Nisetta,
on to your balcony, quickly!
poem by Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy
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Related quotes
From a Great Height.
Beneath her balcony he’d sing
and promise love eternally.
The maiden spurned his offering.
She knew of his philandering.
But undeterred he’d nightly sing.
Experienced in the ways of maids.
He knew she would be listening
to hear his mandolin tinkling.
Eventually she would relent
appear upon the balcony.
Although she doubted his intent.
By trial and experiment.
He’d found that curiosity
A fatal weakness in young maids
would bring her to the balcony.
It always worked successfully.
It always had done in the past.
This maid was made of sterner stuff.
She vowed tonight would be the last
and down upon his head she cast.
The contents of her chamber pot.
Which served to dampen his ardour
Attar of roses it was not.
Although he deserved what he got.
I felt some little sympathy
to see him so discomfited.
To be drenched unexpectedly
in his intended victims pee.
A message that he’d not forget.
This lady was no easy prey.
The chamber pot she had upset
Has soaked him in Eau de Toilet.
He quickly hurried from the scene.
His pride damaged beyond repair.
His parting comments were obscene.
At least I thought they must have been..
No longer does the troubadour
Sing below her balcony
Sweet serenades about amour
No one has seen him any more.
07/09/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Troubadours
From the ancient sun to the old heart stove come the troubadours
From the city gates to the castle walls its the troubadours
On a sunlit day it was bright and clear
And the people came from far and they came from near
To hear the troubadours
Well the troubadours sang their songs of love to the lady fair
She was sitting outside on a balcony in in the cool night air
It was a starry night the moon was shining bright
And the trumpets rang and they gave a chime
For the troubadours
And for everyman all across the land and from shore to shore
They came singin songs of love and chivalry from the days of yore
Baby lift your window high do you hear that sound
Its the troubadours as they go through town
Baby lift your window high do you hear that sound
Its the troubadours with their freedom song
Lift your window high turn your lamp down low baby
Dont you know I love you so
Lift your window high do you dig that sound
Its the troubadours coming through town
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Song For You
When I sing
with my voice,
Hearing the sound
from my soul
from my guitar
When I play guitar
with my fingers
hear the songs
from my lovers
from a remote place
When I shout
please hear my echo
hear my song
from the empty cave
When I whistle
hear my songs
from a ship and plane
from a temple
to sing my love song.
When I sing my story
to God and loved ones
Please hear and understand
the story of love
for You and Me.
This is the Love song
Specially For You, my dear,
Listen carefully,
follow your instinct
and intuition.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Happy Halloween
The blood that she let
Left me empty and upset.
My life now goes on forever.
I killed hitler with my fangs and a song.
His gardens died quickly,
He didn't belong.
Love was a dropp of blood for awhile,
Mine was to feed for the blood that she let.
Then I met friendly people on the street.
When I left them they were white as a sheet.
Tommorrow night I will eat candy,
My costume is real
My woman my blood to let
My tongue the blood to feel.
Give me a costume and reason to smile
I just use darkness and death all the while.
So, suck it up, you crazy believers
That we are the invisible creatures of myth
My journey for you
Is what she left.
The blood that she let
Is all that she left.
Happy Halloween.
Moon, Moon, Crazy Moon
moon, moon, crazy moon
natural moon
torn apart and snoozing moon;
lovely moon, romantic moon
poor poor moon
the romance
plucked out of its drab surface;
moon moon going wild
moon moon running away
from the earth -
O moon, why do you run away from the earth?
does earth touch you in the wrong places
and you've got no Body
to which one could lodge
a complaint about sexual harassment? ?
ah, moon moon, temperamental moon
dark moon
glowing moon;
sexy moon
and old-woman hag of a moon;
moon moon with the best views of the earth
moon moon moon
puts me to sleep and wakes me up
in the middle of nights;
and one day we'll sleep in the moon
and produce babies there
and we'll have the first moon-ish boys and girls
and moon-ly families;
but meanwhile
moon moon driving fanatics
and inspiring love and romance and myths
moon moon eerie moon
moon moon that presides over love and horrors
and evil and good
and naked witches dancing in moonlit groves;
pooor moon moon the earth moon
not as interesting and dramatic as other moons;
don't get too friendly and dropp in -
oh, never dropp in, no one invited you
silly mooonn, no no, you're not invited home to earth
moon moon cheese moon eaten by mice;
but still our dear moon darling moon
moon mooon
our very own earth's moon
as we moo moo like cows
moo moo moo mooo
at our own moon moon moon
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Swan Dive
The windows were open
The night air was cold,
The curtains were blowing
Like ribbons of gold,
We stood there forever
Both Henry and me,
The night his wife dived
Off the balcony.
We looked at each other
We each shook our head,
And waited to hear if
The poor girl was dead,
I looked at my watch
It was just after three,
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
I waited a moment, then:
'What did I say?
Was that a faux pas about
You in Calais?
Or did she take umbrage
When I poured the tea?
Is that why she jumped
Off the balcony? '
'Don't think for a moment,
Old chap, ' he had said,
'I thought she had mumbled
And stumbled to bed!
She'd said she had someone
Tomorrow to see,
So why would she dive
Off the balcony? '
We walked very gingerly
Out through the door,
And peered on down from
The fifty-sixth floor,
I thought I could see a small
Splat by a tree,
Just where she had dived
Off the balcony.
Could that be your Gwendoline,
There on the ground?
That's funny, she dived all
That way, made no sound!
Not one little scream -
Did you hear? ' - 'Not me! '
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
The police galloped up
By the lift, through the doors,
'That splat in the courtyard, sir,
Could it be yours? '
Then Henry admitted that
It could well be,
His wife, who had dived
Off the balcony!
They made us go down with
A bucket and mop:
'Clean up every vestige,
Remove every drop!
You can't go round leaving
Wives haphazardly,
Whenever they dive
Off the balcony! '
They made us feel humble,
We lowered our heads,
I picked up her armpits,
He mopped up her legs,
But bits of her weren't where
In truth, they should be,
When Gwendoline dived
Off the balcony.
Much later he told me that
Wives one and two,
Had left in the very same way,
I said, 'True? '
It seems Gwendoline had been
Wife number three,
Who'd taken a dive
Off the balcony.
Now Henry has married
Again, number four,
He's moved his apartment down
To the ground floor,
He locks all his windows
And tells Stephanie,
'Don't ever you dive like
Wives one, two and three! '
3 June 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Dear Moon Why Are We So Gray?
the skys are black tonight and theres a blue moon above my head
the sky seems sad tonight and now the moon is bleeding red
i look up to the sky
i feel so small
asking it for the answers
but all it ever gives me is silence-all you ever give me is silence
i ask you dear moon 'what's wrong with me y are all my colors gray? '
but u dear moon never answered my question
as the light began transforming night into day
i said 'dear moon why must you be this way? '
and finally you answered much to my delight
u sent a shooting star to chase away the night
and moon u did answer
from your pearch high in the sky
you said to me dearest moon 'i am you and you are i'
so i said 'well y so quite moon? '
and she said 'well y so quite girl? '
and then i had my answer.
everything looks gray in the stars light and you my Love will always be my star.
Candles
The days of the future stand in front of us
Like a line of candles all alight----
Golden and warm and lively little candles.
The days that are past are left behind,
A mournful row of candles that are out;
The nearer ones are still smoking,
Candles cold, and melted, candles bent.,
I don’t want to see them; their shapes hurt me,
It hurts me to remember the light of them at first.
I look before me at my lighted candles,
I don’t want to turn around and see with horror
How quickly the dark line is lengthening,
How quickly the candles multiply that have been put out.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Confabulation
Moon? Moon? Do you hear me?
if you hear me
Think of me and answer me why do I cry every night?
How patient you are, moon? Moon? Do you know why we are wrong? Moon? Moon? I heard that you can pray, How near to God you are, moon? moon? hurts hurt us please pray for us, you are our guiding light in depth of nights, give us your purity
because we are about to lose the purity
poem by Baharak Barzin
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I Can Play (Lyrics) :
He didn't give himself up to fear.
And his voice had a life of its own.
He didn't give himself up for broke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar', 'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to drinking beer.
His voice still had a life of its own.
And he didn't give himself up for smoke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to curcumstance.
Always tried to make it alone.
He didn't give himself up to telling lies.
His honesty was already shown.
Always kept himself up to par.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'...
Rock Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1987,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Echo Of The Night
When silence is persistent
And the shadows lie in wait
When the sun steps aside for the moon
You can hear the music of the night
At the break of dawn its hides
It fears the burning golden light
It favors the moon as its ally
One who isn't blind with pride
As the shadows of the day finally dissipate
And the sun recedes in the mountains
When the moon cast its shadow over the land
Once again comes the music of the night
It seems strange to call it music
When no sound is actually there
But like a choir in a cavern
Its voice echoes throughout the land
When you finally abandon your thoughts
Kneel silently before the land
Its echo can finally reach you
And you can hear the music of the night
poem by Logan Fulk
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So this is all a game
So this is all a game
I put my name tag on
You look at my face
Complete
And you are there lurking
From a balcony
Looking at me
I am real. I am the specimen.
You are all wearing masks
In a balcony of
Darkness
I am real.
And you all laughed so hard
“How can this real guy be so stupid? ”
The bastards are still alive.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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True Love Sometimes Gets Unrequitted, And It Is Very Painful
how the moon and the stars
truly loved the sun
how the sun
with its arrogance keeps busy all the day
how the moon hides sometimes
on the nights when the stars
are away
the moon
feeling so lonely
till this day
her true love for the sun
still unrequitted
and indeed it is very painful
the moon bleeds
her tears
and blood flow like her
shining moonlight
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Magicians Birthday
In the magic garden
Some were singing
Some were dancing
While the midnight moon
Shone brightly overhead
The stars so gaily glistened
And the sphinx in silence listened to
The magician tell of
Lives that he had led
Let the bells of freedom ring
Songs of love to fridays king
Lets all go to
The magicians birthday
Its in a forest
But not so far away
Much to do
And so much to say
While we listened to
The orchid orchestra play
Happy birthay to you ...
Happy birthday to magician
Happy birthday to you ...
Then at the dead of midnight
As we watched the dancing firelight
The air grew cold
And seemed to dull the flame
The fire died
The music faded
Filled with fear of death we waited
For now we knew
Some evil was to blame
I challenge you
I challenge you all
For all you own
And all you know
And I own the powers of darkness
I will steal what is mine
Surrender now or face my spite
I grant you it may be friday night
But did you know this day
Also numbers thirteen
First Ill give you fire
I turn your fire into a sleepy stream
Yes, now I give you darkness
From your horror Ill create a dream
You cannot fight me
For I have the sword of hate
But one thing you cant see
My answer is simply
An impenetrable fortress
Of love ... love ... love ...
The fear went as quickly as it came
The air was clear
The fire burned again
The flames leapt
The organ played
The swans sang
To greet the day
And then we knew that
Love will find love will find love ..
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Endless verse of a nameless flora:
A lonely lovely girl was Standing at her breeze filled balcony,
her adorable heart was admiring the quiet moon in harmony,
a golden yellowish nameless flower fell on her feet,
the sweet perfume of the fallen flower blended with that chill breeze,
while she tried to hold the flower the petals they fell one by one,
she was holding just the stalk that was left alone,
tear drops that escaped from her eyes fell one by one like the petals,
she was holding someone's sweet memories like the stalk.
The moon wished that her love should blend with her love like the perfume in the air.
poem by Vimal Kumar N
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Dust Moon
How long have I been running far far away from you
As many miles as I've gone
Still the darkness comes on
There will be a crimson moon tonight
Dust moon rises...your face haunts me so
Dust moon rises...sanity leaving me soon
I still see your blood on the face of the moon
Your face haunts me, nothing clear now
Dust moon has risen
Bloody, mocking moon
Daylight seems lifetimes away, eternal midnight
Keep running away
Dust moon has risen...haunting me so
Dust moon rises...sanity, leaving me so soon?
I still see your face on the blood of the moon
And when the dust moon rests his weary head
And the sunshine begins to rise
Will I still be here or will I be dead
Is the dawn of a new day just a lie?
Buffelskraal
(after I. D. du Plessis)
At the Buffelkraal farmstead once lived a beautiful girl
near to the Matroosberg Mountain with a crown of golden hair
and when the first winter snow falls and covers the hills,
as the moon comes out glistening a scene is acted out.
White is the snow flaking down
and the moon is golden
when a gorgeous girl entices a boyfriend
and for moments they stand together
while moonbeams fall yellow
as she smiles as the loveliest girl in the universe;
white is the snow flaking down
while the moon is golden.
Just more than a hundred and forty years ago
the dreams of Francois came true like an answered prayer
when the loveliest girl in the district asked him for a flower
while she amazed him with a stolen kiss.
White is the snow flaking down
and silver-white is the moon
where a pretty girl entices a boyfriend
and he goes home with a song in his heart
when the moonbeams fall icy white
as she smiles as the prettiest girl in the universe;
white is the snow flaking down
and silver-white is the moon.
Blissful is the knowledge that she loves him
when he faces Groothoek cliff,
bravely he loads his blunderbuss
before he starts climbing the hill.
White is the snow flaking down
and bleak white the moon
where a pretty girl entices a boyfriend
to pick a disa flower and when he slips
falling down a rocky ledge to his death
she cries like the most raving girl in the universe;
white is the snow flaking down
and bleak white the moon.
Fleeting the snow flakes down
as on a night she walks in her nightdress,
escaping into the Hex River Mountains
and a ghostly tale begins.
Splashed with blood is the flaking snow
and dark is the moon
when the death of a boyfriend draws a girl to the hills
and as a rock shatters she falls down a cliff,
deep into a gorge
and another sweetheart dies in the universe,
splashed with blood is the flaking snow
and dark is the moon
At the Buffelkraal farmstead once lived the loveliest girl
near to the Matroosberg Mountain with a crown of golden hair
and when the first winter snow falls and covers the hills
as the moon comes out glistening a scene is acted out.
White is the snow flaking down
and the moon is golden
when crying a girl tries to entice her boyfriend
as she stands in a white nightdress on the cliffs
while moonbeams fall yellow
as she smiles as the loveliest girl in the universe;
white is the snow flaking down
while the moon is golden.
[References: "Rietfontein" by I. D. du Plessis, "The witch of Hex River" by Gert Strydom.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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MOON BEGS for your beauty
The moon shall cry tonight,
for your beauty is so bright.
makes the lonely man in the moon so sad,
for he can not out shine you.
all he can do is glaze upon you,
and see the sun is coming so fast,
quickly, quickly, for the
darkness fades fast,
he makes a plea for just one more kiss
to let his moonlight
to touch your beauty,
and he shall wish on a falling star,
for you are a diamond in his eyes
as the mightiest star of all
The star divine............That i call venus
poem by Randy Hogan
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Villanelle Of Spring Bells
Bells in the town alight with spring
converse, with a concordance of new airs
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
People emerge from winter to hear them ring,
children glitter with mischief and the blind man hears
bells in the town alight with spring.
Even he on his eyes feels the caressing
finger of Persephone, and her voice escaped from tears
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
Bird feels the enchantment of his wing
and in ten fine notes dispels twenty cares.
Bells in the town alight with spring
warble the praise of Time, for he can bring
this season: chimes the merry heaven bears
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
All evil men intent on evil thing
falter, for in their cold unready ears
bells in the town alight with spring
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.
Submitted by Andrew Todd
poem by Keith Douglas
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Moonlight Memories
Sweet and sad
moon light always beads
the lace with memory leads
in my teens
my hormones oozed out
as I curl out
in the moon lit night
as I grew up
my dreams and loves
all blazed in the cool moon
my blood boiled blushed with delight
all the fantasies
all the sweetest memories
romantic webs knit across
the full moon sky with millions stars.
the nights were awake
when she peeped inside
I loved her in watery beds
silvery threads woven in filmy sheds
yet, she weighed upon my nights
when my mother breathed that night
just that night and nomore right
as she blazed at distant sight
I waited till midnight
to relieve motherless plight
at the courtyard bereft
of lovely mother's gait.
the shroud of moon light
now fell upon me tight
it choked me breathless
freezing attractions gayless
I still wonder at full moon nights
if my mother did come out of the grave
and did she engrave her love upon the pave
did the wintry dews make her shiver
and did she cry and groan in fever
the icy night evoked further
terrible sights of dead ones dear
Still, I could not bury the delicate mother
banishing the memories of full moon weather.
poem by Lalitha Iyer
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