Golden Bells
When I was almost forty
I had a daughter whose name was Golden Bells.
Now it is just a year since she was born;
She is learning to sit and cannot yet talk.
Ashamed—to find that I have not a sage’s heart:
Henceforward I am tied to things outside myself:
My only reward—the pleasure I am getting now.
If I am spared the grief of her dying young,
Then I shall have the trouble of getting her married.
My plan for retiring and going back to the hills
Must now be postponed for fifteen years!
Related quotes
Golden Bells
When I was almost forty
I had a daughter whose name was Golden Bells.
Now it is just a year since she was born;
She is learning to sit and cannot yet talk.
Ashamed—to find that I have not a sage’s heart:
I cannot resist vulgar thoughts and feelings.
Henceforward I am tied to things outside myself:
My only reward—the pleasure I am getting now.
If I am spared the grief of her dying young,
Then I shall have the trouble of getting her married.
My plan for retiring and going back to the hills
Must now be postponed for fifteen years!
poem by Bai Juyi, translated by Arthur Waley
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Girl of Fifteen
Girl of fifteen,
I see you each morning from my window
As you pass on your way to school.
I do more than see, I watch you.
I furtively draw the curtain aside.
And my heart leaps through my eyes
And follows you down the street;
Leaving me behind, half-hid
And wholly ashamed.
What holds me back,
Half-hid behind the curtains and wholly ashamed,
But my forty years beyond your fifteen?
Girl of fifteen, as you pass
There passes, too, a lightning flash of time
In which you lift those forty summers off my head,
And take those forty winters out of my heart.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Don't Want To Die
What is God's plan for me?
Will I live?
Will I die?
I am not scared of dying.
I am scared of WHEN I will die
I am still a child
I have my whole life ahead of me
I don't want to go right now
I want to die old and gray
Not young
I still want to try new things
I want to find love
Get married
Have a couple of kids
How can I do that?
When I don't know God's plan?
Usually I am never scared.
But now I am terrified.
poem by Makayla Straight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Old Sugar Daddy's Woman
It isn't for love she is with him the ageing and bald headed Stan
But to his money she is surely attracted and money in her eyes makes the man
A blond in her late twenties and quite attractive and he has turned seventy four
But money to her is what matters and he is worth fifty million or more,
Young enough to be his grand daughter his eldest grandchild is her age
Her sugar daddy he is ageing a very wealthy man but not a sage
To him she is heavily pregnant to his vast fortune another heir
Her first child a son or a daughter will be born as a millionaire,
She is known as the sugar daddy's woman her man may have known a better day
But money to her is what matters and for herself she is doing okay
He may not look a young muscular sex symbol with hair dye he covers his gray
But money does speak every language and of you says more than words can ever say
Her lover is forty five years older than her but he is a wealthy old guy
And he has got plenty of money and few things that money cannot buy.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Way Back Then
Seven years ago,
I went back to Canada
after forty-two years.
I walked down a road
to show my wife where I used to live.
The road was built on rolling hills
and as I came over one,
I knew instantly where I was.
Things had changed
in those forty-two years,
some would say
it was unrecognisable
from what I used to know,
but as soon as I started down the hill
things came back like yesterday.
It was as if I had never been away.
Memories of my childhood
instantly sprang to mind.
I found myself seeing things
not as the now,
but there were changes
from the way back then.
The memory flashes
brought a smile to my face
as I could visualise
all the friends I knew then,
the funny incidents that over my life
in the way back then.
All too soon, time
has a way of taking things back
and my memory reclined them
to the back door of my mind.
30 April 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Linley From Dubbo
Though she is only forty four she looks much older
And gray through her shoulder length hair of brown
But twenty years ago she looked a beauty
One of the finest in Dubbo her Hometown.
She married young when she was only twenty
And she was pregnant on her wedding day
She loved her husband and to him was faithful
But her price for loving him too high to pay.
Her angry husband when drunk often beat her
But next morning he'd say I'm sorry dear
I promise you that this again won't happen
Perhaps I ought to give up on the beer.
But his promises to her were quickly broken
The leopard never seems to change his spots how true
He often came home from the pub aggressive
And he often beat poor Linley black and blue.
Till she grew tired of Jack her violent husband
And she took her daughter Jo and headed south
Since that day ten years back she hasn't seen him
And where he now lives she doesn't wish to find out.
Linley from Dubbo is a young grand mother
Her grand daughter will be two years old next may
She won't be going back for to live in Dubbo
In Ferntree Gully she's happy to stay.
Since she left her husband she has had many relationships
But none of them lasted more than a year
But she says soon that she will meet her soul mate
And happy times for her she feels are near.
Despite all she has been through she feels so positive
And she has got a good approach to life
And lovely Linley from Dubbo in her forties
For some lucky man will make a marvellous wife.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mary O
She went to Dublin in the late sixties off hand can't say what year
For to live with her only child her daughter Peg O Deere
And still her happy laughter comes to me from long ago
The heart and soul of Claraghatlea kindhearted Mary O.
The only daughter of Mary and Jack the Master her only brother Jack
Died in England many years ago of a major heart attack
And Mary O outlived them all and 'tis said she's still going strong
And may she live to be over one hundred years and may her life be long.
I've known her since I was young lad since I was knee high tall
A mentor of my childhood years and one I still recall
She must have been over forty years when I was a schoolgoing boy
And with her happy hearty laugh she spread the gifty of joy.
In my memory she is still quite young she never did grow old
In her mid life when I was a boy she has a heart of gold
And I still hear her hearty laugh across the miles away
And I'll remember Mary O till my own final day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Grieving Mother
The grieving mother litres of tears have shed
Since she found her lone child in the garage dead
From a rope tied to a steel beam by the neck he hung
To die for some it never is too young.
His first anniversary he died this day last year
And why he choose to end his life the reason not even clear
His father left her for another before their boy had reached the age of one
And on her own she had to raise her son.
In his eighteenth year he choose his way to die
That life can be cruel is surely not a lie
He did not live for to cast his first vote
And he did not even leave a suicide note.
From her the grief of loss it has not gone away
Today for her another tearful day
Single in her forty sixth year with her cross of grief to bear
'Tis true indeed that life can be unfair.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Born On April 18th
The year was 1997,
I was in LA and it felt like heaven.
Driving around with Chucky
to see the movie stars,
all of the mansions in hills very far.
Now we came up to Tom Cruise’s place,
a security guard was outside the gate,
he did not see us, but that was O.K.,
years later Tom’s daughter Suri would be
Born on my 40th birthday.
Another baby would be born at Suri’s hospital down the hall,
Brook Shield’s daughter Grier was born kind of small.
Also late night comedian with a crazy style,
Conan O’Brien will make you laugh and smile.
Patriot made his famous 'Midnight Ride',
it was in the grand year 1775.
Silversmith rode his horse on this day of cheer,
his name is courageous Paul Revere.
Suri and Grier are now five years old this year,
I wish them a Very Happy 5th Birthday to both little dears.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb.17,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Learning How To Get It Right
When I started writing,
I was a young eighteen
and I can still remember
the first piece I ever wrote.
To say it was terrible
is an understatement to say the least,
but I am not ashamed I wrote it
no matter how bad it was.
It’s a part of my history now,
the beginning point
for everything I have achieved,
the first step that I took.
It was a bit clumber some
as all first steps usually are,
unless you are a genius
of which I am clearly not.
They say the more you practice,
the better you are going to get.
I have been practicing
for forty years now
and I am still not perfect yet.
Nor do I think I will ever be,
for if I thought I was perfect
I would give up completely.
I am still learning
and I’ll remain that way
until the day I eventually die.
So, if you see mistakes in my work
you’ll understand the reason why,
I am still learning
on how to get it right.
19 July 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Forever Young
In life there is only one certainty
and that is one day we will die,
it is only a question of
how and when that remains a mystery.
Scientist the whole world over
would love to find the solution
that could extend our lives,
letting us live longer
yet remain in good health.
As the population now
is living longer with each passing year.
Four hundred years ago
if you were forty you were old,
but now at forty we are still young.
In another four hundred years,
people who are one hundred
may be classed as being young.
The world can only wait and see.
4 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Kiwi Dave
For forty five years I've been working and I'm just an unfettered slave
And I have gray hairs to show for it I am quoting Kiwi Dave
Five years to go to retirement I was sixty last birthday
And ever since I've started working it's been uphill all the way.
My ex wife said that I was a drinker that I was too fond of the booze
That was her excuse for leaving she said I was born to lose
But I take it in moderation after work three or four beers
And I've been a slave for her and for my children for close to if not twenty years.
Fifteen years ago she left me and she went to live with younger bloke
She got more than half my assets for years to her haven't spoke
She turned my son and daughter against me and my six grandchildren I don't see
And I will spend my usual Christmas on my own watching T.V.
Kiwi Dave is a good person though just a little soured by life
And things for him would have been better had he had a faithful wife
'A woman she can make or break you' with that who could disagree
Dave could see the truth in those words for who would know better than he? .
For forty five years he's been working the hard worker Kiwi
Dave
And for his ex wife and his children for years he has been a slave
He looks older far than sixty the hard life has made him gray
Five more years left till retirement it's been uphill all the way.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am Told
For forty four years now
Each morning I woke up
I go straight to prepare
A cup of coffee for my wife
It's a ritual that I do
For forty four years
Not that she asks for it
But it's what I love to do
Love is what commands me
To lit a kettle to boil a water
For she likes it when its so hot
A coffee she drinks quite early
Suddenly, now that it's our anniversary
I do the thing I 've been doing ever since
We got married for forty four years back
Yet for the first time I am told just so today
That the coffee I served her now tasted bad
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rebecca
Past loves you always remember
and Rebecca I’ve never forgot.
It was in May when we first met,
and the days were unusually hot.
We were both sixteen and innocent,
and love’s spark grew into a flame.
Desire and passion overwhelmed us,
and our deepest love was to blame.
Early evenings we spent together
and most of our weekend days.
We made love wherever we could,
and in so many different ways.
At eighteen she wanted to marry,
but I said we were too young.
She of course didn’t agree
and of course I was wrong.
We fell out and didn’t see each other
for maybe a week or more,
and then we both apologised,
and made love like never before.
Our relationship became a volcano
in every sense of the word.
One moment all was calm and beautiful,
and then, eruptions could be heard.
Following another reconciliation
we decided to go our separate ways.
This time there was no going back;
there were no more loving days.
She soon found another lover,
and got married without delay.
Nine months after our separation
a baby had come her way.
Because she made no contact
I assumed the baby wasn’t mine.
I never thought any more about it,
and my life was ticking over fine.
Two years later we met by accident
and I asked if the child was mine.
With a grin she changed the subject,
so the answer I couldn’t find.
After forty years had passed,
Rebecca knocked at my door,
and said the woman by her side
is the daughter I should adore.
“Well! After all this time, ” I said,
“how do I know it’s true? ”
“Just look at her, ” she said,
“she’s the spitting image of you.
I brought her here to see you
because she seemed to know
that her dad wasn’t her father,
and she repeatedly told me so.
She pleaded with me to tell the truth
and since my husband recently died.
I felt that I had to tell her about you,
and apologised for all the years I lied.
It would’ve broken my husband’s heart
if he had found out that I had lied,
and so I had to explain to my daughter
why I thought the lie was justified.”
“What a shock! I don’t know what to say,
or come to that, what to do.
I better begin by saying,
“Hello daughter, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
House Carpenter
Well met, well met, my own true love
Well met, well met, cried she
Ive just returned from the salt, salt sea
And its all for the love of thee
I could have married a kings daughter there
She would have married me
But I have forsaken my kings daughter there
Its all for the love of thee
Well, if you could have married a kings daughter there
Im sure youre the one to blame
For I am married to a house carpenter
And Im sure hes a fine young man
Forsake, forsake your house carpenter
And come away with me
Ill take you where the green grass grows
On the shores of sunny italy
So up she picked her babies three
And gave them kisses, one, two, three
Saying take good care of your daddy while Im gone
And keep him good company.
Well, they were sailin about two weeks
Im sure it was not three
When the younger of the girls, she came on deck
Sayin she wants company
Well, are you weepin for your house and home?
Or are you weepin for your babies three?
Well, Im not weepin for my house carpenter
Im weepin for my babies three.
Oh what are those hills yonder, my love
They look as white as snow
Those are the hill of heaven, my love
You and Ill never know
Oh what are those hills yonder, my love
They look as dark as night
Those are the hills of hell-fire my love
Where you and I will unite
Oh twice around went the gallant ship
Im sure it was not three
When the ship all of a sudden, it sprung a leak
And it drifted to the bottom of the sea
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Grief Of The Heart
The grief of the heart
Is hard to measure
For pain that you feel
is like a pleasure
That only you
can feel inside
Which cover life's area
Both narrow and wide
So don't stop tears
If you feel bad
let it all out
And don't feel sad
And know in life
You have to face
All these things
With a trouble's trace
So don't try to measure
The grief of the heart
For its something to feel
Just like a pleasure.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Anybody who's been married to a man for forty odd years knows he's all talk.
quote by Michael Parkinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ring Out , Wild Bells
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Warmth Again
Icy heart
Warm heart.
The icy-hearted person feels nothing,
The warm-hearted person feels too much.
And most of the time, that person doesn't want to feel anymore.
I've an ice-cold heart, but I'm warm-hearted.
Why do I feel so cold?
I'm fifteen years old, but I feel like an old lady.
Why do I feel so old?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't I feel warm again?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't someone warm me up again?
Fifteen.
Back problems, foot problems, heart problems and more!
Asthma problems, leg problems, chest pain galore!
Help me out of this wreck of a body, kind sir...
Help me out of this wreck of a body, kind
Sir!
I'm fifteen years old, but I feel like an old lady.
Why do I feel so old?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't I feel young again?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Can you make me feel myself again?
Dear Great One, please help me
Down here on Earth, sitting here I wait
to feel like myself again.
I've an ice-cold heart, but I'm warm-hearted.
Why do I feel so cold?
I'm fifteen years old, but I feel like an old lady.
Why do I feel so old?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't I feel warm again?
Why can't I feel young again?
Cold heart,
Old heart,
Why can't someone warm me up again?
Can you make me myself again?
Maybe someday...I'll feel myself again.
poem by Raven Lightner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
So Much Trouble
My baby left me, my mule got lame,
Lost all my money in a poker game.
Wind storm came one summers day,
Carried the house and lift it away.
Having so much trouble
Having so much trouble.
Im having so much trouble.
Its finally driving me insane.
Carry me to jail my pyjamas on,
I even hate that I was born.
Let me out of jail, come through town.
Couldnt find my wife, she had put me down.
Having so much trouble,
Having so much trouble.
Im having so much trouble:
Its finally driving me insane.
I pawned my watch and I pawned my chain,
I would have pawned myself but I was ashamed.
Got me a job on the city pay
Early one morning layed me off that day.
Im having so much trouble,
Im having so much trouble,
Im having so much trouble,
Bought to drive me insane.
Im having so much trouble:
Its finally driving me insane.
Trouble!
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!