A sheep will never be able to understand why Easter should be celebrated slaughtering lambs.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sheep and Lambs
All in the April evening,
April airs were abroad;
The sheep with their little lambs
Passed me by on the road.
The sheep with their little lambs
Passed me by on the road;
All in the April evening
I thought on the Lamb of God.
The lambs were weary and crying
With a weak, human cry.
I thought on the Lamb of God
Going meekly to die.
Up in the blue, blue mountains
Dewy pastures are sweet;
Rest for the little bodies,
Rest for the little feet.
But for the Lamb of God,
Up on the hill-top green,
Only a Cross of shame
Two stark crosses between.
All in the April evening,
April airs were abroad;
I saw the sheep with their lambs,
And thought on the Lamb of God.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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White Angel the Easter Rabbit
Out of a lovely fantasy…..,
She appeared one Springtime day…..,
And made our world……,
So happy in every way……,
It was a vision so wondrous……,
As we colored our eggs…..,
For the Easter Holiday
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
She’d hop, hop, hop….,
All day long…..,
Be dancin’ around……,
And singin’ a song…..,
As Easter came so merrily…..,
She was so much fun for us to see……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
Lovin’ her was a tireless habit……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
But poof just like each night and day……,
Her visit soon had to end …..,
So she hop, hop, hopped on her way……,
Off to visit her fairytale friends……,
As we sadly bid farewell to her…….,
She said, “Come on now, don’t cry…..,
I’ll be back again some Easter Day”…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Pure white gold in 24 karat…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit….! ! !
(2011)
poem by Trade Martin
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Easter Parade
In your easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it,
Youll be the grandest lady in the easter parade.
Ill be all in clover and when they look you over,
Ill be the proudest fellow in the easter parade.
On the avenue, fifth avenue, the photographers will snap us,
And youll find that youre in the rotogravure.
Oh, I could write a sonnet about your easter bonnet,
And of the girl Im taking to the easter parade.
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Healthier Easter
This is the first Easter
No candy baskets will be here
But we had so many baskets
Each and every year.
The kids are older now
Candy they don’t want anymore
So this Easter the baskets sit empty
Behind the closet door.
Somehow I want the Easter Bunny here
Want those baskets filled with eggs so bright
But my teens want to be healthier
So they make sure that they eat right.
They forfeit sugar and junk
No more Peeps or a big chocolate bunny
But being without Easter Baskets on Easter
Seems to be very odd and funny.
So I am putting the word out
To the Easter Bunny in my town
That I don’t think the teens will mind
If you decide to come around.
Maybe you could leave some health bars
Perhaps some fruit and veggies too
And maybe you could put some books in there
Those things could still say “I love you”.
poem by Connie Webb
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Up North
Oh, Bill and Joe to the north have gone,
A green shirt on their back;
There are not many ewes and lambs
Along Kokoda track.
There are not many ewes and lambs,
But men in single file
Like sheep along a mountain pad
Walk mile on sweating mile;
And each half-hour they change the lead,
Though I have never read
Where any fat bell-whether was
Shot, in the mountains, dead.
The only sheep they muster there
Leap through the mind at night;
'Twould be as red as marking time
To change green shirt for white.
And though Bill dreams of droving now
On the drought-coloured plain,
There's little need to tap the glass
Or pray for it to rain.
They have no lack of water there
But there is a stinging tail,
For men lie dying in the grass
Along Kokoda trail.
poem by David Campbell
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Grieving Of Sheep
In the nearby paddock the combined bleatings of sheep
Keep preventing me of nodding off to sleep
And all through the dark night i lay on my bed
With their constant noising echoing in my head.
The farmer he sold off their lambs yesterday
For his lack of compassion in lack of sleep i must pay
Even far from the City all not peaceful and quiet
Their bleatings so loud in the calm of the night.
If i lost a loved one i would feel the same
And for my loss of sleep them i never would blame
But the farmer who owns them for them has no tears
He has been selling fat lambs for decades of years.
Though they keep me from sleep for them i do feel
For sheep too have feelings and their feelings are real
Like us they feel sorrow and like us they feel stress
And i do feel for them in their unhappiness.
Out in the dark paddock such noise they do make
Their constant loud bleatings keep me wide awake
And all through the night their sorrow is deep
And i cannot sleep due to grieving of sheep.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I love the lambs, not the sheep.
quote by Roger Peyrefitte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The sheep that is too tame is sucked by too many lambs.
Easter Bunny
Easter Bunny
Come in a hurry
I want my Easter egg
Easter Bunny
Please don't tarry
Remember what I said
Paint my egg blue
With little brushes too
And add a little red to it
'Cause I won't mind if you did
Put my egg in the basket
With a little red ribbon
Put it in your jacket
And bring it to London
poem by Jacqueline AntwiDanso
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Easter Zunday
Last Easter Jim put on his blue
Frock cwoat, the vu'st time-vier new;
Wi' yollow buttons all o' brass,
That glitter'd in the zun lik' glass;
An' pok'd 'ithin the button-hole
A tutty he'd a-begg'd or stole.
A span-new wes-co't, too, he wore,
Wi' yellow stripes all down avore;
An' tied his breeches' lags below
The knee, wi' ribbon in a bow;
An' drow'd his kitty-boots azide,
An' put his laggens on, an' tied
His shoes wi' strings two vingers wide,
Because 'twer Easter Zunday.
An' after mornen church wer out
He come back hwome, an' stroll'd about
All down the vields, an' drough the leane,
Wi' sister Kit an' cousin Jeane,
A-turnen proudly to their view
His yollow breast an' back o' blue.
The lambs did play, the grounds wer green,
The trees did bud, the zun did sheen;
The lark did zing below the sky,
An' roads wer all a-blown so dry,
As if the zummer wer begun;
An' he had sich a bit o' fun!
He meade the maidens squeal an' run,
Because 'twer Easter Zunday.
poem by William Barnes
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Easter Zunday
Last Easter Jim put on his blue
Frock cwoat, the vu'st time-vier new;
Wi' yollow buttons all o' brass,
That glitter'd in the zun lik' glass;
An' pok'd 'ithin the button-hole
A tutty he'd a-begg'd or stole.
A span-new wes-co't, too, he wore,
Wi' yellow stripes all down avore;
An' tied his breeches' lags below
The knee, wi' ribbon in a bow;
An' drow'd his kitty-boots azide,
An' put his laggens on, an' tied
His shoes wi' strings two vingers wide,
Because 'twer Easter Zunday.
An' after mornen church wer out
He come back hwome, an' stroll'd about
All down the vields, an' drough the leane,
Wi' sister Kit an' cousin Jeane,
A-turnen proudly to their view
His yollow breast an' back o' blue.
The lambs did play, the grounds wer green,
The trees did bud, the zun did sheen;
The lark did zing below the sky,
An' roads wer all a-blown so dry,
As if the zummer wer begun;
An' he had sich a bit o' fun!
He meade the maidens squeal an' run,
Because 'twer Easter Zunday.
poem by Ingeborg Bachmann
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Daddy's Bunny (2006)
The hunt is on
for Easter has begun
Many eggs to find
with candy on his mind
It's his little expedition
but assigned to a mission
enjoying the nice colors
and the insides to devour
Easter basket in shape of a car
filled with toys and candy bars
Spent his day with his mom.
with dad, tired he'd become
A visit with family members
a day full of splendor
sleepy eyes begin to show
give kiss it's time to go
Daddy's Bunny begins to sleep
with a drooling shirt as he counts sheep
poem by David Joel Rodriguez
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Ballade 1
The stag was very proud of his swiftness,
Of running ten miles in one breath,
And the wild boar was proud to be fierce,
And the sheep praised her woolly fleece,
And the horse its beauty, and the buck was proud
Of crossing the plain at a bound,
And the one proud of strength was the bull,
The ermine in having a furry skin;
And to them all he said from his shell:
'The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
What I see first are lions, leopards, bears,
Running the countryside, wolves and tigers
Under pursuit by greyhound and mastiff
And the shouts of men, so hated that if
They're caught each person will attack,
Because of the destruction of the flock;
They're thieves, treacherous and wicked,
And merciless, and for that detested.
Are they strong and fast? Good at a run?
The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
Many see him and the path he's on,
Enclosed in the shell he carries along,
They don't do him harm, they let him be,
And so he goes from week to week,
As many go in their own poor realm
Who live good lives in their simple gown,
And if the world gives them little at all,
They still go on with its good will.
And cow and calf have the meadow's run,
And the snail will get to Easter just as soon.
Prince, among the strong, the rich, the great
There's a lesson they rarely think about;
Their haste can't bring the future on:
The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
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Guilt
You accuse them of guilt and theft,
Of worried statements and mild skill.
Your desks of wisdom are contained in a box,
A box is always full of statements that lock.
Guilty people are like thieves, often called flocks,
Called sheep that mutter why they cry.
The lambs are like sweetness, but only sheep,
Their habits will cause us to shun and speak.
This habit carried anxiety and absoluteness,
My habit is of worry for those in worry.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Easter Goddess
The Easter Goddess and the customs of men,
I am a sheep among the wolves! !
But why have all the churches failed to read, 'Jeremiah 10: 1-10'?
For the image of jealousy is at the entrance of your door.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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East At Easter
We go walking, hand in hand
All across the land its east at easter
People walking hand in hand
When ships are moving south it will be east at easter
We will rock you, rock you little child
We will rock you, rock you little child
All across the land its east at easter
All across the land its east at easter
Things will lighten up the sky, east at easter
Things will lighten up the sky, east at easter
Well go walking hand in hand
cause all across the land it will be east at easter
Ah, we will rock you, rock you little child
We will rock you, rock you little child
All across the land its east at easter
When ships go moving south it will be east at easter
Theyre gonna lighten up the sky
Theyre gonna lighten up the sky
Theyre gonna lighten up the sky
East at easter
Ah, well go walking hand in hand
Well go walking hand in hand, yes
We will rock you, rock you little child
We will rock you, rock you
Rock you little child
Theyre gonna lighten up the sky
When they lighten up the sky it will be east at easter
We will rock you, rock you, rock you
Words & music : james kerr, charlie burchill, mel gaynor, derek forbes, michael macneil (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The return from cows and sheep in cheese is worth much money every day in the season, without calves and lambs, and without the manure, which all return corn and fruit.
quote by Robert Grosseteste
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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