By the Pool of the Third Rosses
I heard the sighing of the reed
In the grey pool in the green land,
The sea-wind in the long reeds sighing
Between the green hill and the sand.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
Day after day, night after night;
I heard the whirring wild ducks flying,
I saw the sea-gull's wheeling flight.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
Night after night, day after day,
And I forgot old age, and dying,
And youth that loves, and love's decay.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
At noontide and at evening,
And some old dream I had forgotten
I seemed to be remembering.
I hear the sighing of the reeds:
Is it in vain, is it in vain
That some old peace I had forgotten
Is crying to come back again?
poem by Arthur Symons
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Related quotes
Watching the Needleboats at San Sabba
I heard their young hearts crying
Loveward above the glancing oar
And heard the prairie grasses sighing:
No more, return no more!
O hearts, O sighing grasses,
Vainly your loveblown bannerets mourn!
No more will the wild wind that passes
Return, no more return.
poem by James Joyce
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Song (Sylvia The Fair, In The Bloom Of Fifteen)
Sylvia the fair, in the bloom of fifteen,
Felt an innocent warmth as she lay on the green:
She had heard of a pleasure, and something she guessed
By the towsing and tumbling and touching her breast:
She saw the men eager, but was at a loss
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close;
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close.
"Ah!" she cried, "ah, for a languishing maid
In a country of Christians to die without aid!
Not a Whig, or a Tory, or Trimmer at least,
Or a Protestant parson, or Catholic priest,
To instruct a young virgin that is at a loss
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close;
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close."
Cupid in shape of a swain did appear;
He saw the sad wound, and in pity drew near;
Then showed her his arrow, and bid her not fear,
For the pain was no more than a maiden may bear;
When the balm was infused, she was not at a loss
What they meant by their sighing and kissing so close;
By their praying and whining,
And clasping and twining,
And panting and wishing,
And sighing and kissing,
And sighing and kissing so close.
poem by John Dryden
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The Winds Out of the West Land Blow
The winds out of the west land blow,
My friends have breathed them there;
Warm with the blood of lads I know
Comes east the sighing air.
It fanned their temples, filled their lungs,
Scattered their forelocks free;
My friends made words of it with tongues
That talk no more to me.
Their voices, dying as they fly,
Thick on the wind are sown;
The names of men blow soundless by,
My fellows' and my own.
Oh lads, at home I heard you plain,
But here your speech is still,
And down the sighing wind in vain
You hollo from the hill.
The wind and I, we both were there,
But neither long abode;
Now through the friendless world we fare
And sigh upon the road.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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The tale of the sparkling white river
At the sparkling white river
that cuts its way through the earth,
some green reeds grew in bushes into the water.
Tranquillity and the magic
of water, sun and wind
was the spirit that dwelt in the reeds.
a Really ugly god appeared and started to cry,
as no beautiful nymph
would set an eye on him.
He washed his face in the water
to try and transfix some of its healing magic
to himself and washed his face again,
but the image reflected upon the gentle pool
remained the same
and deeper into the water he went.
Half blind by his crying,
he stumbled into the reeds
and walk still deeper in,
to hide away from the creatures
that lived upon the water
and dwelt in the sparkling stream.
There was power in his tears
and where they fell upon the reeds,
they were cut from the stems.
To Pan on that day,
the river and the reeds
came as a blessing.
With reeds in his hands
he walked to the shore
and the setting and sounds did something to him.
He cut the reeds into pipes
of different lengths
with notches and holes
and blew life in to them
and to this very day,
that instrument bears his name.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Crying Over You
Crying over you in the morning
Crying over you in the evening
Crying over you, dont know what to do
You make me feel ashamed, people say
Its all in the game, woman please let me explain
Then I know you will be mine
Everyday I pray
To have you and to hold
Now that you are here by my side
I really, really dont want to cry, cry
Crying over you in the morning
Crying over you in the evening
Crying over you, dont know what to do
You make me feel ashamed, people say
Its all in the game, woman please let me explain
Then I know you will be mine
And I will stop crying, crying over you
And I will stop sighing, sighing, dont know what to do
Dying, dying, every day
Sighing, sighing
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Black Swan
When the swans turned my sister into a swan
I would go to the lake, at night, from milking:
The sun would look out through the reeds like a swan,
A swan's red beak; and the beak would open
And inside there was darkness, the stars and the moon.
Out on the lake, a girl would laugh.
"Sister, here is your porridge, sister,"
I would call; and the reeds would whisper,
"Go to sleep, go to sleep, little swan."
My legs were all hard and webbed, and the silky
Hairs of my wings sank away like stars
In the ripples that ran in and out of the reeds:
I heard through the lap and hiss of water
Someone's "Sister . . . sister," far away on the shore,
And then as I opened my beak to answer
I heard my harsh laugh go out to the shore
And saw - saw at last, swimming up from the green
Low mounds of the lake, the white stone swans:
The white, named swans . . . "It is all a dream,"
I whispered, and reached from the down of the pallet
To the lap and hiss of the floor.
And "Sleep, little sister," the swan all sang
From the moon and stars and frogs of the floor.
But the swan my sister called, "Sleep at last, little sister,"
And stroked all night, with a black wing, my wings.
poem by Randall Jarrell
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Too Many Times
Too many times I have heard you crying.
With a sighing done about your life.
And too many times I have held you close,
With a wishing that perhaps I should loosen my hold.
Too many times I felt you committed,
To a doing of nothing as you sat.
And too many times I knew I assisted,
To your addictions that kept you trapped.
Too many times I have felt myself alone.
With a wanting of someone to know this.
And too many times my own needs were left condoned...
Just to be with you to feel no caring for me shown.
Too many times I have heard you crying.
With a sighing done about your life.
And too many times I have held you close,
With a wishing that perhaps I should loosen my hold.
And too many times I don't.
Because I know if I did...
No life would I then live?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blueflags
I stopped the car
to let the children down
where the streets end
in the sun
at the marsh edge
and the reeds begin
and there are small houses
facing the reeds
and the blue mist in the distance
with grapevine trellises
with grape clusters
small as strawberries
on the vines
and ditches
running springwater
that continue the gutters
with willows over them.
The reeds begin
like water at a shore
their pointed petals waving
dark green and light.
But blueflags are blossoming
in the reeds
which the children pluck
chattering in the reeds
high over their heads
which they part
with bare arms to appear
with fists of flowers
till in the air
there comes the smell
of calmus
from wet, gummy stalks.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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The Dead Church
Wild wild wind, wilt thou never cease thy sighing?
Dark dark night, wilt thou never wear away?
Cold cold church, in thy death sleep lying,
The Lent is past, thy Passion here, but not thine Easter-day.
Peace, faint heart, though the night be dark and sighing;
Rest, fair corpse, where thy Lord himself hath lain.
Weep, dear Lord, above thy bride low lying;
Thy tears shall wake her frozen limbs to life and health again.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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The Little Black Bird And The Wooden Railing
it is a black bird with a shade of red
on its upper wing
that perches on the wooden beam
cracking under the sun
last summer
below the beam are the tall reeds
i forget whether it was the black bird
or the tall reeds
which was singing
but i am sure i heard a song
so sad like a dying note from the throat
of a mad man.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Ancre at Hamel: Afterwards
Where tongues were loud and hearts were light
I heard the Ancre flow;
Waking oft at the mid of night
I heard the Ancre flow.
I heard it crying, that sad rill,
Below the painful ridge
By the burnt unraftered mill
And the relic of a bridge.
And could this sighing river seem
To call me far away,
And its pale word dismiss as dream
The voices of to-day?
The voices in the bright room chilled
And that mourned on alone;
The silence of the full moon filled
With that brook's troubling tone.
The struggling Ancre had no part
In these new hours of mine,
And yet its stream ran through my heart;
I heard it grieve and pine,
As if its rainy tortured blood
Had swirled into my own,
When by its battered bank I stood
And shared its wounded moan.
poem by Edmund Blunden
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Venite Descendamus
Let be at last; give over words and sighing,
Vainly were all things said:
Better at last to find a place for lying,
Only dead.
Silence were best, with songs and sighing over;
Now be the music mute;
Now let the dead, red leaves of autumn cover
A vain lute.
Silence is best: for ever and for ever,
We will go down and sleep,
Somewhere beyond her ken, where she need never
Come to weep.
Let be at last: colder she grows and colder;
Sleep and the night were best;
Lying at last where we cannot behold her,
We may rest.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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The Maids Of Elfin-Mere
When the spinning-room was here
Came Three Damsels, clothed in white,
With their spindles every night;
One and Two and three fair Maidens,
Spinning to a pulsing cadence,
Singing songs of Elfin-Mere;
Till the eleventh hour was toll'd,
Then departed through the wold.
Years ago, and years ago;
And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.
Three white Lilies, calm and clear,
And they were loved by every one;
Most of all, the Pastor's Son,
Listening to their gentle singing,
Felt his heart go from him, clinging
Round these Maids of Elfin-Mere.
Sued each night to make them stay,
Sadden'd when they went away.
Years ago, and years ago;
And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.
Hands that shook with love and fear
Dared put back the village clock,-
Flew the spindle, turn'd the rock,
Flow'd the song with subtle rounding,
Till the false 'eleven' was sounding;
Then these Maids of Elfin-Mere
Swiftly, softly, left the room,
Like three doves on snowy plume.
Years ago, and years ago;
And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.
One that night who wander'd near
Heard lamentings by the shore,
Saw at dawn three stains of gore
In the waters fade and dwindle.
Never more with song and spindle
Saw we Maids of Elfin-Mere,
The Pastor's Son did pine and die;
Because true love should never lie.
Years ago, and years ago;
And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.
poem by William Allingham
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Rain
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into this solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying to-night or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain,
Either in pain or thus in sympathy
Helpless among the living and the dead,
Like a cold water among broken reeds,
Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,
Like me who have no love which this wild rain
Has not dissolved except the love of death,
If love it be towards what is perfect and
Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Dark Lady
Music :ulrich roth
Lyrics:ulrich roth
Sitting alone in the doghouse
Thinking of you all the time
Sighing, crying
Sitting alone in the doghouse
Thinking of you all the time
Sighing, crying
Dark lady
Sitting alone by my window
Counting the stars of the night
Waiting, hating
Sitting alone by my window
Counting the stars of the night
Waiting, hating
Dark lady
Sitting and watching the sunrise
Darkness is filling my eyes
Sighing, crying
Sitting and watching the sunrise
Darkness is filling my eyes
Sighing, crying
Dark lady
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying As She Falls
The leaves have turned and she has known
And she tells me she cant let him go
And she looks to the moon for answers
And she looks inside and she knows
She dresses by the window
Finds reflection in the pane
She looks towards the winter
And her hair falls around her like rain
Shes sighing with september
She would like to run and hide
Shes wrapped up in confusion
She unfolds like paper dolls
But shes flying as she falls
The birds have gone and she has known
For she follows the arc of their flight
And the softness has gone from the daylight
And the shadows have grown into night
Shes sighing with september
She would like to run and hide
Shes wrapped up in confusion
She unfolds like paper dolls
But shes flying as she falls
Soon will come cool october
It will rise all around her like fire
And she gathers her courage like harvest
And she gathers her thoughts and desires
Shes sighing with september
She would like to run and hide
Shes wrapped up in confusion
She unfolds like paper dolls
But shes flying as she falls
She will not run and hide
She will take it all in stride
And she will
She will
She will be flying as she falls
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Angler's Song
From the river's plashy bank,
Where the sedge grows green and rank,
And the twisted woodbine springs,
Upward speeds the morning lark
To its silver cloud -- and hark!
On his way the woodman sings.
On the dim and misty lakes
Gloriously the morning breaks,
And the eagle's on his cloud:--
Whilst the wind, with sighing, wooes
To its arms the chaste cold ooze,
And the rustling reeds pipe loud.
Where the embracing ivy holds
Close the hoar elm in its folds,
In the meadow's fenny land,
And the winding river sweeps
Through its shallows and still deeps,--
Silent with my rod I stand.
But when sultry suns are high
Underneath the oak I lie
As it shades the water's edge,
And I mark my line, away
In the wheeling eddy, play,
Tangling with the river sedge.
When the eye of evening looks
On green woods and winding brooks,
And the wind sighs o'er the lea,--
Woods and streams,-- I leave you then,
While the shadow in the glen
Lengthens by the greenwood tree.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Marsh Land
The nearer I come to the wild marsh land
the more I hear red-knobbed coots carolling
where a swarm of tiny weavers twitter,
rocking and balancing on the long reeds,
cheerfully the meandering stream jabbers
while it shines in the bright morning light
next to the big old hanging willow tree,
where a symphony of nature resounds.
Marsh bulrushes rocks plumed in the wind
that blows softly through the bushes of sprouts,
somewhat blinded by the natural beauty
I wander like a child through all the reeds,
drops of water jet when wild ducks fly up,
with rushes suddenly rocking up and down.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Pike
In the brown water,
Thick and silver-sheened in the sunshine,
Liquid and cool in the shade of the reeds,
A pike dozed.
Lost among the shadows of stems
He lay unnoticed.
Suddenly he flicked his tail,
And a green-and-copper brightness
Ran under the water.
Out from under the reeds
Came the olive-green light,
And orange flashed up
Through the sun-thickened water.
So the fish passed across the pool,
Green and copper,
A darkness and a gleam,
And the blurred reflections of the willows on the opposite bank
Received it.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Avenue C
BY B. CLAYTON, J HENDRICKS AND D. LAMBERT
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brass: N. Y. I dig
Reeds: What about it?
Brass: N. Y. is big
Reeds: People tout it
Brass: I flip my wig
Reeds: What about?
Brass: 'Bout a street I dig
Piano (Basie's solo): One day I was walkin' n'
Finally came upon a series of alphabet streets
A-B-C and D, but I went for "C"
The most of the hard-to-forget streets
It's really and truly the dilly of all m'pet streets
Tenor sax: Hey, hey, hey everybody now
Brass: Come go walkin' with me now
Walk up avenue C now
Chicks all lookin' so pretty
They don't give me no pity
Avenue C is the grooviest in the city
Tenor sax: I never dug an avenue so enjoyable to me
"C" Avenue is groovy
Yes it was groovy as it could be
Brass: Walk with me down Avenue C
Tenor sax: Man I really hope to say
Brass: Come on baby, while we ramble
Walk beside me while we ramble
Tenor sax: You dig it too I feel you do
What a scenic hike
It's a walk that you're bound to like
Brass: Y'got "B" on the one side
Reeds: "A"
Brass: "D" on the other
Reeds: "B"
Brass: "C" in the middle
Reeds: "C"
Brass and Reeds: Baby!
Trumpet: The reason that you're feelin' so down, babe
Is 'cause you live in Stuyvesant Town, babe
I dug you down in Hamilton Fish, babe
And realized that you were my dish, babe
Walkin' home and you can walk with me
Walkin' hand in hand up Avenue C, Oh babe
And while we're walkin' we can do some talkin'
While the people dig us wonderin' what we're puttin' down
While we, happy as we can be, glide on
Takin' life in stride up to Murphy Park there beside the river
Brass: Well our feet got rhythm
Reeds: Pure pedal syncopation
Brass: 'N when we walk with 'em
Reeds: Demandin' admiration
Brass: Well our step is snappy
Reeds: Dig people step aside now
Brass: Because we're so happy
Reeds: We're takin' life in stride now
Brass: Avenue C your vibrations are followin' me. Oh yes
Reeds: Everybody busily lookin'
Brass: Yes yes
Reeds: Me and baby steadily cookin'
Brass: Yes yes
Reeds: Start at one end talkin' and movin'
Brass: Yes yes
Reeds: To the other wiggin' and groovin'
Brass: So come
Reeds: You should
Brass: And view
Reeds: I would
Brass: This Ave-
Reeds: You could
Brass: Venue
Reeds: It's good
Brass: Walk on
Reeds: "C" Avenue, see it my way
Brass: Talk on
Reeds: No better view on a highway
Ensemble: Big town you don't know 'till you see it
Brass: Walk on
Reeds: I never saw such a wonderful sight
Drum break
Ensemble: You're gonna love it
Break
Brass: I'm hip, you'll flip
Reeds: When you dig it you'll stop and linger
Brass: You'll pop your top
Reeds: What a pleasure and what a swinger
Ensemble: Go dig it cop that view it's bound to thrill you
(Come on, come on, go)
Go dig it cop that view it's bound to thrill you
(Come on, come on, now, go)
Go dig it cop that view it's bound to thrill you
Go dig it cop that view it's bound to thrill you
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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