En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Voices of Earth

We have not heard the music of the spheres,
The song of star to star, but there are sounds
More deep than human joy and human tears,
That Nature uses in her common rounds;
The fall of streams, the cry of winds that strain
The oak, the roaring of the sea's surge, might
Of thunder breaking afar off, or rain
That falls by minutes in the summer night.
These are the voices of earth's secret soul,
Uttering the mystery from which she came.
To him who hears them grief beyond control,
Or joy inscrutable without a name,
Wakes in his heart thoughts bedded there, impearled,
Before the birth and making of the world.

poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Nature Un-harnessed

Human Beings can’t control wind and sea,
The earth’s spin and whatever it may be;
The magnetic effects of sun and star,
And of planets and galaxies afar.

Nor can he control the rain that befalls,
On the sand dunes in the desert that walls;
The water that flows from mountains so high,
Men and animals that suddenly die!

Nor the newly-formed sands of the seas-shores;
The earthquakes and active volcanoes;
Nor the dew-drops that dot every leaf/frond;
Nor the tad-poles that come out of a pond.

Men can harness Nature to some degree;
Nature’s a Giant for infinity.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fragile

If blood will flow when fresh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrows rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetimes argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are

song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rosalie

O, pour upon my soul again
That sad, unearthly strain,
That seems from other worlds to plain;
Thus falling, falling from afar,
As if some melancholy star
Had mingled with her light her sighs,
And dropped them from the skies.

No - never came from aught below
This melody of wo,
That makes my heart to overflow
As from a thousand gushing springs
Unknown before; that with it brings
This nameless light - if light it be -
That veils the world I see.

For all I see around me wears
The hue of other spheres;
And something blent of smiles and tears
Comes from the very air I breathe.
O, nothing, sure, the stars beneath,
Can mould a sadness like to this -
So like angelic bliss.

So, at that dreamy hour of day
When the last lingering ray
Stops on the highest loud to play -
So thought the gentle Rosalie
As on her maiden revery
First fell the strain of him who stole
In music to her soul.

poem by Washington Allston
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Worship of Nature

The harp at Nature's advent strung
Has never ceased to play;
The song the stars of morning sung
Has never died away.

And prayer is made, and praise is given,
By all things near and far;
The ocean looketh up to heaven,
And mirrors every star.

Its waves are kneeling on the strand,
As kneels the human knee,
Their white locks bowing to the sand,
The priesthood of the sea!

They pour their glittering treasures forth,
Their gifts of pearl they bring,
And all the listening hills of earth
Take up the song they sing.

The green earth sends its incense up
From many a mountain shrine;
From folded leaf and dewy cup
She pours her sacred wine.

The mists above the morning rills
Rise white as wings of prayer;
The altar-curtains of the hills
Are sunset's purple air.

The winds with hymns of praise are loud,
Or low with sobs of pain, --
The thunder-organ of the cloud,
The dropping tears of rain.

With drooping head and branches crossed
The twilight forest grieves,
Or speaks with tongues of Pentecost
From all its sunlit leaves.

The blue sky is the temple's arch,
Its transept earth and air,
The music of its starry march
The chorus of a prayer.

So Nature keeps the reverent frame
With which her years began,
And all her signs and voices shame
The prayerless heart of man.

poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pink Clouds Never Rain

I have never see a pink cloud rain before.
I have only seen a magenta bolt of lightening try to strike my heart, and
Aqua tears trickling from my dazzled misty eyes, down my
Flushed and lonesome cheek, though
I have never see a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have seen spotted purple snakes crawling up my bedroom walls, and
Transparent bubbles filled with dreams floating before my very eyes, though,
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, though
I have seen a reddish sun cast shadows down upon a tortuous, rippling river;
I have seen tears cascading down a sloping hill, and
Gulls flapping their gentle, feathered wings atop some cragged cliffs, although
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have heard eerie and commanding thoughts and voices
That no one else could hear.
I have had disturbing, stabbing thoughts that have injured me inside, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have slid down an icy mountainside on a very sunny night.
I have wept a sea of deep blue and purple tears, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never heard thunder clap behind a rosy cloud, or seen
Tears fall from heaven or have heard angels singing.
I have had morbid thoughts of loss, death and suicide,
While thunder clapped, and
These pink clouds could not rain.

Perhaps someday I shall see a pink cloud rain upon a
Magnificent world, which I have created for myself,
Where tall green and golden reeds are surrounded by swirling water pools, and
A hallucinogenic sun sets behind high and mighty mountains-
And there, people would be trustworthy and true to heart.

No, I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although,
I have seen almost everything there is to see-
Some good sights and some bad-
I have heard some screaming voices echo in my mind, although,
Some quiet ones as well.
I have seen some orange and, pinkish sunsets, and mirages in
The fortress of my own mind, however-
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, and
I have never seen a pink cloud weep before….

Claudia Krizay

poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Zucca

I.
Summer was dead and Autumn was expiring,
And infant Winter laughed upon the land
All cloudlessly and cold;--when I, desiring
More in this world than any understand,
Wept o’er the beauty, which, like sea retiring,
Had left the earth bare as the wave-worn sand
Of my lorn heart, and o’er the grass and flowers
Pale for the falsehood of the flattering Hours.

II.
Summer was dead, but I yet lived to weep
The instability of all but weeping;
And on the Earth lulled in her winter sleep
I woke, and envied her as she was sleeping.
Too happy Earth! over thy face shall creep
The wakening vernal airs, until thou, leaping
From unremembered dreams, shalt ... see
No death divide thy immortality.

III.
I loved--oh, no, I mean not one of ye,
Or any earthly one, though ye are dear
As human heart to human heart may be;--
I loved, I know not what--but this low sphere
And all that it contains, contains not thee,
Thou, whom, seen nowhere, I feel everywhere.
From Heaven and Earth, and all that in them are,
Veiled art thou, like a ... star.

IV.
By Heaven and Earth, from all whose shapes thou flowest,
Neither to be contained, delayed, nor hidden;
Making divine the loftiest and the lowest,
When for a moment thou art not forbidden
To live within the life which thou bestowest;
And leaving noblest things vacant and chidden,
Cold as a corpse after the spirit’s flight
Blank as the sun after the birth of night.

V.
In winds, and trees, and streams, and all things common,
In music and the sweet unconscious tone
Of animals, and voices which are human,
Meant to express some feelings of their own;
In the soft motions and rare smile of woman,
In flowers and leaves, and in the grass fresh-shown,
Or dying in the autumn, I the most
Adore thee present or lament thee lost.

VI.
And thus I went lamenting, when I saw
A plant upon the river’s margin lie
Like one who loved beyond his nature’s law,
And in despair had cast him down to die;
Its leaves, which had outlived the frost, the thaw
Had blighted; like a heart which hatred’s eye
Can blast not, but which pity kills; the dew
Lay on its spotted leaves like tears too true.

VII.
The Heavens had wept upon it, but the Earth
Had crushed it on her maternal breast

...

VIII.
I bore it to my chamber, and I planted
It in a vase full of the lightest mould;
The winter beams which out of Heaven slanted
Fell through the window-panes, disrobed of cold,
Upon its leaves and flowers; the stars which panted
In evening for the Day, whose car has rolled
Over the horizon’s wave, with looks of light
Smiled on it from the threshold of the night.

IX.
The mitigated influences of air
And light revived the plant, and from it grew
Strong leaves and tendrils, and its flowers fair,
Full as a cup with the vine’s burning dew,
O’erflowed with golden colours; an atmosphere
Of vital warmth enfolded it anew,
And every impulse sent to every part
The unbeheld pulsations of its heart.

X.
Well might the plant grow beautiful and strong,
Even if the air and sun had smiled not on it;
For one wept o’er it all the winter long
Tears pure as Heaven’s rain, which fell upon it
Hour after hour; for sounds of softest song
Mixed with the stringed melodies that won it
To leave the gentle lips on which it slept,
Had loosed the heart of him who sat and wept.

XI.
Had loosed his heart, and shook the leaves and flowers 75
On which he wept, the while the savage storm
Waked by the darkest of December’s hours
Was raving round the chamber hushed and warm;
The birds were shivering in their leafless bowers,
The fish were frozen in the pools, the form
Of every summer plant was dead
Whilst this....

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dream Star

Whisper, O wings of the wind! Sing me your song, O sea!
Grey is the weary world, and grey is the heart of me!
Into my shadowy heart pierce like the star of old,
Pearl of the tender dawn, kissed by the trembling gold!

Sing me the hope made sure, sing me the heart made strong!
Give me the battle-fire, give me the bugle-song

Onward ever and on, O swift, green bird of the sun;
Ever a vaster goal for the goal that thy wings have won.

Keen with a tireless beat is the rush of thy wings that soar;
But keener, swifter than thee is the vision that flies before.

What though we die forgot and sad for the song unsung!
Fresh from her thousand deaths ever the world is young.

For, ever the dream-world floats, a light on a misty bar,
And ever the grey earth follows the wake of that pilot star;

Follows a spirit ship that bears o’er a spirit sea
Shadows of thoughts unborn, phantoms of destiny.

Silver the giant sails loom through the amber haze,
And ever the helmsman Hope steers for the halcyon days;

And ever the voices call, out of the golden light,
Into the dreamer’s heart, sad in the lonely night—

Call like the ring of steel and thrill as of bugles blown,
Splendours of days to be, flaming in skies unknown.

Deep in the eastern skies glimmers that phantom star;
Dim in the distance dies the surge of the world afar.

Ah, but like broken swords, scattered along the van,
Perish the outpost souls that fall in the march of Man!

Ah, but they die not so; out of their ashes then
Flowers of immortal Love spring in the hearts of men!

Wings of the swift green Earth, ever and ever young—
This is the whispered word the wind of the morning sung!

This is the rune I heard flung by the ocean old,
Pearl of the tender dawn, kissed by the trembling gold!

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Building Bridges

I came from another place
I was born under a different star and
That is what I believe- When the rain fell, I did not grow,
In the sunlight I could not see what was ahead of me,
That sun was so far away- although far away from everyone,
I know and I believe- Building bridges in my sleep
Trying to get to a place where
I would grow and my thoughts would be in control-
Walking pathways in my wakefulness uphill and down
Trying to find a place where I would fit,
As would a piece in a jigsaw puzzle or
Perhaps just to be heard, or understood?
Here alone I can hear my thoughts as they speak to me,
Almost like far away voices echoing within the back of my mind-
My soul was snatched away at birth or I was born under a different star-
To where I wish I could return-
If I could fly with broken wings, I would,
If I could cry tears of joy, not sorrow, I would-
I am an angry spirit building ladders out of time-
That time I feel is running out-
Picking roses in vain trying to find a purpose here-
Building bridges when I sleep,
Where I would cross to another place in time,
I continue to walk pathways in my wakefulness
Until I find a place where I could grow with the flowers and
Find beauty and a purpose in this world
Because I don't know where that star into which I was born is to be-
Perhaps it was a shooting star traveling across the universe-
I got lost along the way and landed here -
A rare bird whose wings have broken and cannot fly-
So I will continue to build those bridges in my sleep and
Walk uphill and downward in my wakefulness-
Until my thoughts are in control and when my thoughts are in control, and
I become a flower or better yet a tree, just happy to be growing
Amongst nature- flowers and trees don't weep or feel the pain
Of being threatened or lost-I shall grow until I touch the sky and
Meet face to face with the sun which shall shine hope upon me and
Everybody knows that trees and flowers haven't a care and
Just stand looking strikingly beautiful- they have no wounded spirits-
They are loved by everyone and because they have no souls,
They are never misunderstood…

poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Music Of The Thunder

Music of the thunder is sweet
To our ears indeed a great treat!
Rhyme and rhythm, you can find and hear
Evanescence of life seen here!
Early in the morning a joy
In the nature's hand a nice toy!
Withered trees, parched land scene of woe
Starved people, dying cattle - oh!
Nature played music of thunder
Accompanied by great wonder!
Streak of lightning, lashings of rain
Swelling of streams and rivers main!
Melody of thunder and rain
Great reliever of farmers' pain!
Sans water the world exists not
All living beings on earth rot!
Thunder hurts me not, nor a threat
Indeed a music - nature's pet!
I love nature, I love thunder
What a great nature-made wonder!

poem by Subbaraman N V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Falling Stars

SHEPHERD, thou say'st there is a star
Which rules our changeful destinies:
Can mortal vision soar so far,
Or pierce such mighty mysteries?
Shepherd, 'tis said thy mind recals
The lore of grey departed seers:
say, what is yonder star which falls,
Which falls, falls, and disappears?

My son, a child of joy expired,
Yon was his star which glided by,
The friendly feast, by mirth inspired,
Has witnessed his departing sigh;
He sang of wine and beauty's thralls,
Round went his jokes and witty jeers
There is another star which falls.
Which falls, falls, and disappears!

My son, it is a star of light,
Of one beloved, and young and fair,
Preparing for her bridal night,
Wreathing white roses in her hair;
On her her frantic lover calls,
But vain his grief, and vain his tears
There is another star which falls.
Which falls, falls, and disappears!

My son, yon was the rapid star,
The suddenly extinguished gleam,
Of one just born to wealth and power,
One born to bask in fortune's beam;
He has escaped the flatterers' thralls,
The weight of guilt, the load of years
There is another star which falls,
Which falls, falls, and disappears!

My son, did'st see its guileful ray?
A monarch's favourite is no more!
Flattered in life-in death's dark day
No friends or mourners seek his door:
He was the cringing slave who crawls,
And fattens on a people's tears
There is another star which falls,
Which falls, falls, and disappears!

'Twas the last of a race of kings;
But go, my son-for thou hast seen
That wealth and power are empty things,
Which leave no trace that they have been.
Glory and fame the heart enthral,
And grandeur courts the people's cheer;
All these are only stars which fall,
Which fall, fall, and disappear.

poem by Charles Mackay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That one star

Remember that summer, i used to lie down on the grass.
In the countryside, i used to watch the stars every night.
Were always lots of stars in the dark blue sky,
Were always rich lightened in the deep sky.

And there was only one star that i liked.
Was in different places everyday night,
But i would find it every time.

And there was one special star that i wondered.
Was the lightest one in my eyes,
But no one else could find it.

That one star stayed in my memories,
That one star is still in my mind.
Too far to catch it,
Too close to run away from it.

Every night it would appear in the sky.
Every day it would disappear in the light.
Someday i couldn't wait for the night.
Then i used to pray for the night to come quickly.

Still i see that one star,
Even on the another side of the earth.
Still i see that one star,
Even in the middle of my dream.

That one star never left me.
That one star never came close.
Just like in the beginning,
Same in the end.

That one star.
That one star.

poem by Sukhee Bukhbat
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Idyll

In the grey summer garden I shall find you
With day-break and the morning hills behind you.
There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings;
And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings.
Not from the past you’ll come, but from that deep
Where beauty murmurs to the soul asleep:
And I shall know the sense of life re-born
From dreams into the mystery of morn
Where gloom and brightness meet. And standing there
Till that calm song is done, at last we’ll share
The league-spread, quiring symphonies that are
Joy in the world, and peace, and dawn’s one star.

poem by Siegfried Sassoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rondel

THESE many years since we began to be,
What have the gods done with us? what with me,
What with my love? they have shown me fates and fears,
Harsh springs, and fountains bitterer than the sea,
Grief a fixed star, and joy a vane that veers,
These many years.

With her, my love, with her have they done well?
But who shall answer for her? who shall tell
Sweet things or sad, such things as no man hears?
May no tears fall, if no tears ever fell,
From eyes more dear to me than starriest spheres
These many years!

But if tears ever touched, for any grief,
Those eyelids folded like a white-rose leaf,
Deep double shells wherethrough the eye-flower peers,
Let them weep once more only, sweet and brief,
Brief tears and bright, for one who gave her tears
These many years.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Flower's Song

Star! Star, why dost thou shine
Each night upon my brow?
Why dost thou make me dream the dreams
That I am dreaming now?

Star! Star, thy home is high --
I am of humble birth;
Thy feet walk shining o'er the sky,
Mine, only on the earth.

Star! Star, why make me dream?
My dreams are all untrue;
And why is sorrow dark for me
And heaven bright for you?

Star! Star, oh, hide thy ray,
And take it off my face;
Within my lowly home I stay,
Thou, in thy lofty place.

Star! Star, and still I dream,
Along thy light afar
I seem to soar until I seem
To be, like you, a star.

poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thunder In My Heart

Writers: leo sayer & tom snow
Standing here alone with you
Wondiring what it is that Im supposed to do
And there you are with the love light in your eye
The bridges are burnt down
Your arms are open wide
Am I in too deep or should I swim to the shore
Is this the real thing?
I dont know but Ive never been here before
And I feel a thunder in my heart that I cant control
I feel a thunder in my heart
Should I walk away or follow my soul?
I feel a thunder in my heart
Where it comes from I just dont know
Oh no, oh no
Theres a storm ragin deep in my soul
Theres a howlin wind that I just cant control
Theresa fire inside me I cant explain
Every time you touch me my love falls like rain
Ive only known you for an hour or more
The time is standin still
Your love has opened up the door
I feel a thunder in my heart
It takes my breath away
I feel a thunder in my heart
Will I ever be the same?
I feel a thunder in my heart
Its telling me youre here to stay
Oh no, oh no
Theres a thunder in my heart
Theres a thunder in my heart
Theres a thunder in my heart
Theres a thunder in my heart
Take me baby Im all yours
Do just what you wanna do with my love
Lets not let the night overtake us
cos whats happening right now may make or break us
Do you feel the way I do?
Open up your heart now baby
Im comin through
I feel a thunder in my heart
Takin my breath away
I feel a thunder in my heart
Since I met you Ill never be the same
I feel a thunder in my heart
I know youre here to stay
I feel a thunder in my heart
Takin my breath away
I feel a thunder in my heart
Since I met you Ill never be the same
I feel a thunder in my heart
I know youre here to stay

song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clara Morris (Written for a Benefit Given Mrs. Morris)

The Radiant Ruler of Mystic Regions
Where souls of artists are fitted for birth,
Gathered together their lovely legions
And fashioned a woman to shine on earth.
They bathed her in splendor
They made her tender:
They gave her a nature both sweet and wild.
They gave her emotions
Like storm stirred oceans,
And they gave her the heart of a little child.

These Radiant Rulers (who are not human
Nor yet divine like the gods above)
Poured all their gifts in the soul of a woman
That fragile vessel meant only for love.
Still more they taught her,
Still more they brought her-
Till they gave her the world for a harp one day,
And they bade her string it-
They bade her ring it,
While the stars all wondered to hear her play.

She touched the strings in a master fashion,
She uttered the cry of a world's despair.
Its long-hid secret, its pent-up passion,
She gave to the winds in a vibrant air.
For ah! the heart of her,
That was the art of her,
Great with the feeling that makes men kin.
Art unapproachable,
Art all uncoachable,
Fragrance and flame from the spirit within.

The earth turns ever an ear unheeding
To the sorrows of art, as it cries for more:
And she played on the harp till her hands were bleeding
And her brow was bruised by the laurels she wore.
She knew the trend of it,
She knew the end of it.
Men heard the music and men felt the thrill.
Bound to the altar
Of art, could she falter?
Then came a silence-the music was still.

And yet in the echoes we seem to hear it
In waves unbroken it circles the earth:
And we catch in the light of her dauntless spirit
A gleam from the center that gave her birth.
Still is the fame of her
Felt in the name of her.
But low lies the harp that once thrilled to her strain.
No hand has taken it,
No hand can waken it-
For the soul of her art was her secret of pain.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Essence Of A Star

Star

You're supposed to be as sweet as sugar,
But forever I fear,
That you may disappear
I really hope you reappear,
And send me to sleep without a tear.

Star

I understand that you live afar,
But without a reason,
It just feels like treason,
But you'll be mine forever,
No question whatsoever.

Star

I am still here,
Feeling so mere,
Awaiting your arrival,
Awaiting my retrieval
Of you

Star

It is already night fall,
I see you came back after all,
Even through the rainfall,
Right then,
Time just seems to stall,

Star

I see you shine,
All the way through cloud nine,
But in the moonlight,
I see you fall,
Fall Into the chambers of my heart
My sweetheart
My,

Star

poem by Ritvik Agni
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death

The awful seers of old who wrote, in words
Like drops of blood, great thoughts that through the night
Of ages burn, as eyes of lions light
Deep jungle-dusks; who smote with songs like swords
The soul of man on its most secret chords,
And made the heart of him a harp to smite--
Where are they? Where that old man lorn of sight,
The king of song among these laurelled lords?
But where are all the ancient singing-spheres
That burst through chaos like the summer's breath
Through ice-bound seas where never seaman steers?
Burnt out. Gone down. No star remembereth
These stars and seers well-silenced through the years--
The songless years of everlasting death.

poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tonight, Am In Love With The Rain

Tonight, am in love with the rain
The beating sound on my window pane
The howling wind, the dripping water
Man and beast seeking shelter

Am in love with the flashing light
The roaring thunder deep in the night
Am wondering how frightening it would be
To meet a storm in the open sea

Am in love with pools and puddles
Splashing water and the ripples
And waving wipers of cars driving by
Lighted images of raindrops from the sky

Am in love with cold water on my feet
As i take a walk on the empty street
And i love to have a bath in the rain
To melt away this lingering strain

But i dont always love the rain!
Sometimes, it brings memories of yesterdays pain
And my thoughts would mingle for too long
With the tune of the its mournful song

Sometimes, it brings the thoughts of storms at sea
And that fearsome waves that benumb me
And i, standing, wondering how
I sailed through her fiercest jaw

Sometimes, it brings the thought of death,
Which is the curse upon all birth
And reminding me how times fly
And how one day all flesh shall lie

Tonight my emotions are running deep
With things that make me laugh and weep
Tonight, here in my dingy room
I see flashes of gloom and bloom

My age long fears, are muffled by the pelting rain
And my common tears flushed down the drain
Tonight, am in love with the rain
And its beats on my window pane! !

poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kiss The Rain

Quiet rain at starlit night
Without bow and without sound
Fallen to wet the ground
Dropping from another world

The girl in the rain
Without shelter and with a dog
Walking and searching for a way out
With steady steps toward a dim light in the front

People in the rain
Watching her and hard to believe
Is she wandering without an aim
Why she is so assured by herself

Face up and kiss the rain
She stops and stares at a star with smile
She knows the star is never far away
The star is watching her everyday
The star knows her and the dog better than anybody else
The star will lead her home and always stay and never walk away

It’s her star
It’s her dog
It’s her rain
It’s the rain from the star

poem by Michael Guo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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