The migratory birds
Migratory birds
Are coming in the zoo's lake
In various flocks
poem by Asif Andalib
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Salt Lake City
Down in utah
The guys and I dig a city called salt lake
Its got the grooviest kids
Thats why we never get tired of salt lake
And the way the kids talk so cool
Is an out of sight thing
And the number one radio station
Makes the town really swing yeah
Salt lake city well be coming soon
Theres a park near the city, yeah
All the kids dig the lagoon now
Its full of all kinds of girls
And rides and well be flyin there soon now
And girl for girl
Theyve got the cutest of the western states
They got the sun in the summer
And winter time the skiing is great yeah
Salt lake city well be coming soon
Salt lake city well be coming soon
Well be coming soon
Well be coming soon
Well be coming soon
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We must force the government to stop the bird migration. We must shoot all birds, field all our men and troops... and force migratory birds to stay where they are.
quote by Vladimir Zhirinovsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Qinghai Lake
Qinghai, Qinghai Lake,
Largest salt lake in China
Blue colour water
Blue clear skies.
Birds fly near the Birds island
During spring times.
Stand high and tall at 3,600 m
Weather according to season
Sunrise at dawn
Sunset at dusk near Qinghai Lake
beautiful colourful lake
seen from hill top
Many cattle of yaks and sheep at the hills top
with the nomadic Tibetans and their tent
The lake full of beauty and colour
beyond compare
Qinghai Hu,
Many fishes and plants.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Alankar (Decor) -8
Village-Silence
Even He can not measure His bliss
Of silence there
As it has gone beyond His grip
Of creational magic
It sounds like a God more supreme
Than His might
A silence soused in distant melodies mild
Cow dung scenting
In rhythmic trance compliant cows pose genteel
Before child Krishna
The lake beside Him presents itself composed
In submissive hue
A sanctuary much awaiting birds migratory soon
Sprawling wide over
Neatly done bund inebriating providential breaths live
Solace for anybody
Me too benched on the bund there
Till stars croon
Moony mind winged mine fleets elysian mindless
To return home
(On A Visit To A Birds' Sanctuary At Koonthankulam)
poem by Indira Renganathan
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death anniversary
the field full with
migratory birds
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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death anniversary
cries of migratory birds
fill the sky
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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death anniversary
the field full with
migratory birds
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twitcher and the Bird Sanctuary
I see many species of birds
from morning till night.
They speak different languages
the migratory birds from all over the world.
What a colourful pagentry and harmony?
Nobody carries weapons
and no any harshness.
So it's very harmless to be with them forever.
Their twitter makes me happy
and I want to be single
whole of the journey.
If she comes I fear the birds won't be here.
She scolded me in her last letter.
'You are good for nothing; a Gooseberry
one day you sink with your birds
in your own bottomless harbour.
Your holey gondola won't be long-standing.
My wicked Gondolier,
you propel with your rickety pole to the hell!
Wind up,
your unfortunate wino Goddess.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Like the lake a Chinese poet sits beside in a painting
Who cares about
the weight of a lake?
Who would care to weigh it?
Who cares about
the colour of a lake
without the light of the sky
to reflect in it?
Who notices its modesty,
reflecting all, but silent of itself?
Who observes that the lake
remains unaffected,
not pained by loss,
not pleased by gain?
Who notices its wisdom,
obeying every law?
Who names its generosity,
among the fish, the birds,
the animals who drink?
Who knows whether the tree
leaning over it, sees its own reflection?
Who notices its love?
It bonds with earth,
It flows when needed,
as love does.
Who asks where the lake came from,
seeing it there?
Who wonders how old that lake is?
It is without age today.
Who wonders whether the lake
knows itself water,
or if water knows itself lake?
Who does not go to seek it,
for its stillness, for its silence,
as if it understands the mind’s needs,
the heart’s nourishment?
He is like that.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Gomper
By the lake with lilly flowers
Wallow away the evening hours
To and fro she's gently gliding
On the glassy lake she's riding
She swims to the side
The sun sees her dried
The birds hover high
I'd stifle a cry
The birds hover high
She moans with a sigh
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Their Satanic Majesties Request
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the forest thick and stout [La mijloc de codru des]
In the forest thick and stout
All the birds are coming out
Of the cold and gloomy shade
Into the delightful glade,
Near the clear and little lake
Where the reeds will gently shake
And afraid of being drowned
Stick their roots deep in the ground,
Where the moon and stars will shine,
Where the birds will cross in line,
Where will stay the moon and sun,
And the swallows will not shun,
For it mirrors my dear one.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Obsessıon
Would not place any price-tag
on me. Like a mannequin dug out from a pit
goes for sale.
Abhor the duplicity.
Want to walk straight –
without the golden thong.
The city goes in flames
in a circle.
A new fountain was singing.
They were landing in flocks.
The old birds of same plumage
coming to collect the due of old virgins.
There was no message.
Letterbox was empty.
I will not wait for snowfall in the Antarcita.
poem by Satish Verma
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Triangles
Three triangles of birds crossed
Over the enormous ocean which extended
In winter like a green beast.
Everything just lay there, the silence,
The unfolding gray, the heavy light
Of space, some land now and then.
Over everything there was passing
A flight
And another flight
Of dark birds, winter bodies
Trembling triangles
Whose wings,
Frantically flapping, hardly
Can carry the gray cold, the desolate days
From one place to another
Along the coast of Chile.
I am here while from one sky to another
The trembling of the migratory birds
Leaves me sunk inside myself, inside my own matter
Like an everlasting well
Dug by an immovable spiral.
Now they have disappeared
Black feathers of the sea
Iron birds
From steep slopes and rock piles
Now at noon
I am in front of emptiness. It’s a winter
Space stretched out
And the sea has put
Over its blue face
A bitter mask.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Sunday Morning Despite the Hectic Shedule
today the mountains are well dressed
with green grass and trees
the flocks of sheep and goats and cows
crowd with its abundance
the sun shines brightly and the sea afar
is a horizon so tranquil
the birds are coming to feed on the grains
clouds meet on the top of the hill
today all of them are joyful
praising the wonders of creation
today God is felt.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Soul Dies
Sky overcast, moon was sad.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Who killed the bird in morning rain?
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A hidden slaughterman did not die.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
The good old name now spells the doom.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
I will call you in pitch-dark night.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Ascending gods have ruined my life.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A child was stolen from a mother’s bed.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
poem by Satish Verma
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Migratory Birds
Migratory birds deported back to the nest
After a long journey
Leaving behind memories and hoping to return
Pulled by longing for the motherland
Green pastures
Ripe fruits
Freshwater
Safety and warm cuddling
Days and nights, and the journey begin
Eternal journey
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
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A Lake And Its Magic Grace
I open my eyes this morning,
In front of me a marvelous landscape open up,
I am so amazed and happy,
And so astonished i become and contemplate.
A lake enriched with white water lilies,
Is developing to my eyes delight,
Its blue peaceful water vibrates,
When a white swan is touching it with grace.
Sun is rising up and warm this greatness,
When its beams are caressing the lake in shinning lights,
All it's coming to life and i can feel the joy,
Of the nature around that makes me smile.
A butterfly is flying to the water lilies,
And stopped for a few moments to enjoy their great perfume,
A fish is jumping restless for a breathe of air,
The birds are happily singing and fly to deep blue sky.
Nature shared with me all its greatness,
And i am humble pleased for what i seen,
I am happy to be the pasionate admirer,
Of this lake and its magic grace.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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A Bad Beginning
The yellow sun steps over the mountain-top
And falters a few short steps across the lake—
Are you awake?
See, glittering on the milk-blue, morning lake
They are laying the golden racing-track of the sun;
The day has begun.
The sun is in my eyes, I must get up.
I want to go, there’s a gold road blazes before
My breast—which is so sore.
What?—your throat is bruised, bruised with my kisses?
Ah, but if I am cruel what then are you?
I am bruised right through.
What if I love you!—This misery
Of your dissatisfaction and misprision
Stupefies me.
Ah yes, your open arms! Ah yes, ah yes,
You would take me to your breast!—But no,
You should come to mine,
It were better so.
Here I am—get up and come to me!
Not as a visitor either, nor a sweet
And winsome child of innocence; nor
As an insolent mistress telling my pulse’s beat.
Come to me like a woman coming home
To the man who is her husband, all the rest
Subordinate to this, that he and she
Are joined together for ever, as is best.
Behind me on the lake I hear the steamer drumming
From Austria. There lies the world, and here
Am I. Which way are you coming?
poem by D.H. Lawrence from Look! We Have Come Through! (1918)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Silver Birds
Silver birds
getting ready to fly
red, white and blue
it's our pride in the sky
Silver birds
above the clouds
making waves
making us proud
Silver birds
shining bright
into the evening
into the night
Silver birds
amongst the rest
flying strong
to be the best
Silver birds
coming round the bend
getting ready to land
out of their descend
Silver birds
representing the states
with the colors of freedom
at all their gates.
Charlie Vergara
11.21.2007
2576
poem by White Tiger
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Under The Water
The bird was
Flying
Under the water...
Under the water
Fishes and frog
Also swmming...
How the birds
are flying...? ? ?
It is not qustine...
You also
Go and see
Any lake...
Sincerly watch it..
Natualy
Birds are flying sky;
Shado will be
Seen under
The water...
Sky also there:
Only way its true
Shadows...
The birds are
Simply flying
Under the water......
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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