I passed by the house
I passed by the house one summer day,
Morning sunshine upon it lay;
Toward the windows that blood-red burned
Flaming my soul was turned, was turned.
There spring had found me
And captive bound me
To lissome hands and soft lips enthralling,
To smiles now stained by the teardrops falling.
Till the view from my vision dies,
To it backward I send my eyes;
All that was becomes new and near,
The forgotten grows warm and dear;
Mem'ries wander,
While this I ponder,
And from the springtime all love's sweet dreaming
Forward and back in my soul is streaming.
Joyous that time and joyous now,
Sorrow that time and .sorrow now.
Sun on meadows bedewed appears,
Soul in mem'ries of smiles and tears.
When they waking
Their bounds are breaking,
When streams their ebbing with sinking power,
The soul bears poetry's bud and flower.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Dedication To His Love
SWEETEST, in desperate hours
Of clouds and lightning and rain,
You came like a vision of flowers
And summer and song once again:
You came, and I could not receive you,
Seared in my flesh, in my sight.
I heedlessly turned back to leave you;
We passed on into the night.
(Heart, soul and all, sweet, never to sever, Love me for ever!)
Dearest, in hours of twilight,
Terrible, silent and lone,
When the light, long sought for as my light
And found, for ever seemed gone —
When the hope of the love-dream of boyhood
Passed sad with unknowing rebuff,
With your passionate patience and joyhood
You came, O my Priestess of Love!
(Heart, soul and all, dear, never to sever, Love me for ever!)
With your lips to mine deathly-reposing,
You kissed back the blood and the sighs:
You lit up my tired eyes unclosing
With the light of your beautiful eyes.
You held me close-pressed to your bosom,
Your heart to my heart, beating strong,
In mine eyes put your life like a blossom,
Put my love in your lips like a song!
(Heart, soul and all, sweet, never to sever,
Love me for ever!)
Dearest, of my heart-blood's Evangel
I hail you Queen, and of me:
Sweetest, I revere you Archangel
Of the better time that shall be.
So to these Songs, for my love's sake,
As Priestess of Love must you stand,
And, for the great Truth above's sake,
God's seraph with his sword in your hand!
(Heart, soul and all, dear, never to sever,
Love me for ever!)
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Sorrow Plays Through Me
An instrument of sorrow
Sorrow doth strum
The strings of my soul
And beat mine heart her drum
Sorrow weeps through me
And in me she seek
Love, enchantment and expression
So mine eyes leek
Thine tears, thou tears, mine tears
To water the joyous earth
With the sorrow of truth
And to new sorrow give birth
Sorrow, sweet, melancholic
Which adorn mine face with rain falls
Of power, of strength, filled with beauty
Surpassing human walls.
Pouring out of me,
For mine eyes to see
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Song VIII: While Ye Deemed Him A-Sleeping
Love is enough: while ye deemed him a-sleeping,
There were signs of his coming and sounds of his feet;
His touch it was that would bring you to weeping,
When the summer was deepest and music most sweet:
In his footsteps ye followed the day to its dying,
Ye went forth by his gown-skirts the morning to meet:
In his place on the beaten-down orchard-grass lying,
Of the sweet ways ye pondered left for life's trying.
Ah, what was all dreaming of pleasure anear you,
To the time when his eyes on your wistful eyes turned,
And ye saw his lips move, and his head bent to hear you,
As new-born and glad to his kindness ye yearned?
Ah, what was all dreaming of anguish and sorrow,
To the time when the world in his torment was burned,
And no god your heart from its prison might borrow,
And no rest was left, no today, no tomorrow?
All wonder of pleasure, all doubt of desire,
All blindness, are ended, and no more ye feel
If your feet treat his flowers or the flames of his fire,
If your breast meet his balms or the edge of his steel.
Change is come, and past over, no more strife, no more learning:
Now your lips and your forehead are sealed with his seal,
Look backward and smile at the thorns and the burning.
--Sweet rest, O my soul, and no fear of returning!
poem by William Morris
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The Way We Were
Mem'ries light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colored mem'ries of the way we were
Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another for the way we were.
Can it be that it was all so simple then
Or has time rewritten every line
If we had the chance to do it all again
song performed by by Barbra Streisand from Way We Were
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fate of Beauty
A bud in its blossom
Gay and merry
Dreaming a feature
Light and bright
Life in its harmony
Was delightful and peaceful
Kissing and hugging
The air took it in its bosom
The efforts of the gardener
Rewarded by nature
Joyous and merry
Unknown of its destiny
But for joy is to weep
For nothing lasts eternal
For sorrow every soul is to sing
The climax was destined
A moment changed
Made its life a hell
Tender air turned harsh
Making the flower to dash
Devoid of its benefactor
The flower dashed
Sore was the soul
Burdened was the heart
The flower died
And with it were buried all its desires
poem by Hina Waqar
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Drowing, not Smiling
Sorrow deepens as the waves
engulve the land.
I perch on thet forest floor and cry.
Water flows out of my view.
Birds deliberatly sit at the edge of my sorrow-
as dogs lick my sorrow away.
And i fly with the wind
like ghosts whom stare out
in the open sky.
Shortly the land beyond is covered
with tears of my soul.
I drowned in sorrow,
and soon the water evaporates
with the sun.
As i lie on my back
the unclouded eyes,
smiled joyously;
traces of sorrow were
to be found, on my soul-
yet i felt free, uplifted:
and i was not drowning-
but smiling.
poem by Celine Berghmans
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In the Morning of Life
In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown,
And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin,
When we live in a bright-beaming world of our own,
And the light that surrounds us is all from within;
Oh 'tis not, believe me, in that happy time
We can love, as in hours of less transport we may; --
Of our smiles, of our hopes, 'tis the gay sunny prime,
But affection is truest when these fade away.
When we see the first glory of youth pass us by,
Like a leaf on the stream that will never return,
When our cup, which had sparkled with pleasure so high,
First tastes of the other, the dark-flowing urn;
Then, then in the time when affection holds sway
With a depth and a tenderness joy never knew;
Love, nursed among pleasures, is faithless as they,
But the love born of Sorrow, like Sorrow, is true.
In climes full of sunshine, though splendid the flowers,
Their sighs have no freshness, their odour no worth;
'Tis the cloud and the mist of our own Isle of showers
That call the rich spirit of fragrancy forth.
So it is not 'mid splendour, prosperity, mirth,
That the depth of Love's generous spirit appears;
To the sunshine of smiles it may first owe its birth,
But the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by tears.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Sit Down, Sad Soul
SIT down, sad soul, and count
The moments flying:
Come,—tell the sweet amount
That ’s lost by sighing!
How many smiles?—a score?
Then laugh, and count no more;
For day is dying.
Lie down, sad soul, and sleep,
And no more measure
The flight of Time, nor weep
The loss of leisure;
But here, by this lone stream,
Lie down with us, and dream
Of starry treasure.
We dream: do thou the same:
We love—for ever;
We laugh; yet few we shame,
The gentle, never.
Stay, then, till Sorrow dies;
Then—hope and happy skies
Are thine for ever!
poem by Barry Cornwall
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Beyond
MY heart it lies beyond, dear,
In the land of the setting day,
Where the whispers are soft and fond, dear,
Of the voices that pass away;
And oft, when the night is falling,
5
And a calm is on the sea,
I fancy I hear them calling
rom that far-off land for me.
It is only idle dreaming,
But the dream is full of rest,
10
And up where that glory is streaming,
From the gates of the golden west,
I wander away in spirit,
With a mingled joy and pain,
Till I almost seem to inherit
15
The sweet dead past again.
I see the old dear faces,
I greet them hand to hand;
But sadly too, for the places
Seem strange in that curious land;
20
Till a new light breaks, and all other
Grows dim to my streaming eyes;
For a son has found his mother
In the depths of the throbbing skies.
Yes, my heart it lies beyond, dear,
25
Where that sun is burning low,
And were you not so fond, dear,
I might perhaps—but no!
Are you weary already with walking?
And tears! What tears, dear, too!
30
How selfish of me to be talking,
My darling, in this way to you!
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Forever
I
With you I shall ever be;
Over land and sea
My thoughts will companion you;
With yours shall my laughter chime,
And my step keep time
In the dusk and dew
With yours in blithesome rhyme;
In all of your joy shall I rejoice,
On my lips your sorrow shall find a voice,
And when your tears in bitterness fall
Mine shall mingle with them all;
With you in waking and dream I shall be,
In the place of shadow and memory,
Under young springtime moons,
And on harvest noons,
And when the stars are withdrawn
From the white pathway of the dawn.
II
O, my friend, nothing shall ever part
My soul from yours, yours from my heart!
I am yours and you mine, in silence and in speech,
Death will only seal us each to each.
Through the darkness we shall fare with fearless jest,
Starward we shall go on a joyous new quest;
There be many worlds, as we shall prove,
Many suns and systems, but only one love!
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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The Travelling Companion
Into the silence of the empty night
I went, and took my scorned heart with me,
And all the thousand eyes of heaven were bright;
But Sorrow came and led me back to thee.
I turned my weary eyes towards the sun,
Out of the leaden East like smoke came he.
I laughed and said, ' The night is past and done ' ;
But sorrow came and led me back to thee.
I turned my face towards the rising moon,
Out of the south she came most sweet to see,
She smiled upon my eyes that loathed the noon ;
But sorrow came and led me back to thee.
I bent my eyes upon the summer land,
And all the painted fields were ripe for me,
And every flower nodded to my hand ;
But Sorrow came and led me back to thee.
O Love ! O Sorrow ! O desired Despair !
I turn my feet towards the boundless sea,
Into the dark I go and heed not where,
So that I come again at last to thee,
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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My Soul Is Connected With Yours
My soul seeking in the tumult of the world,
Looking for my spiritual soul mate, my everlasting love,
My silence lies in the harmony of your charisma,
My inspirational pursuits are within you.
My tender heart, my smiling eyes,
Are searching for you in everything and everywhere,
You are the rain and my catharsis,
I am the fire in your rain.
To give me strength and everlasting passion,
You turned my bitterness into love,
My sorrow and my pain into beauty,
My beauty smiles to you, my soul mate.
My whole life i have been seeking for you,
My laughing heart forgets all my sorrows, my pain,
When you are near, i live those throbbing moments with you,
My soul is connected with yours.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Morning Summer
AS I sit there dreaming of the morning sunshine
heart beating with the teardrops on my face
I never know as you walk away that morning
silent of the moment and my soul remember dim
Everything was dard that morning,
Never had the love of that summer
and my wait cried in the sunshine morning sky.
Watched the bird flied in sky,
to the soft hope for growth again.
But in my heart I hear the love song
as I admit my dream
that keeps me beating, over and again.
poem by Natasa Tocuc
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Give Back My Soul
Give back my soul,
You took it away one day,
Or I had given you,
On rent some day,
Give back my soul.
Life had happened before,
Life had happened since,
Life will happen henceforth,
But give back my soul.
The soul was my property sole;
The loss I would not bear
I have nobody to console,
Please give back my soul.
I want those happy days back,
I want those serene times back,
I want those joyous memories back,
Give back my Soul.
I know you won't come back,
For you have a life wonderful;
I know you won't look back,
For you have a companion cheerful;
Give back my soul.
Now people too say,
You were soulful once,
What happened?
You look soulless now,
Give back my soul.
My soul was mine.
I trusted you mine.
I gave you my soul.
Give back my Soul.
The body is dying.
The soul is flying.
The eternity shall happen;
For the sake of,
You and Mine.
poem by Sanjeev Kumar
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O sweet song of sorrow play thy song in me
O sweet song of sorrow play thy song in me
Lonely, alone with thee, in perfect harmony
Sorrow don't ever leave me; I need thy loyalty
Without thy sweet song, I am nothing, with no sympathy
Without thy empathy, breathing in me, sorrow thou art beauty
The beauty in me, so weep thy soul in me
And in thy sweet cry, my soul shall flow free
To thine heart, to thine love, to thine eternal glory
Sorrow, sweet sorrow, thou play thy song in me
Me as sorrowful, as thy soul's sorrow be…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Grief Of Love
Love, I am sick for thee, sick with an absolute grief,
Sick with the thought of thy eyes and lips and bosom.
All the beauty I saw, I see to my hurt revealed.
All that I felt I feel to--day for my pain and sorrow.
Love, I would fain forget thee, hide thee in deeper night,
Shut thee where no thought is, in the grave with tears.
Love, I would turn my face to the wall and, if needs be, die;
Death less cruel were than thy eyes which have blinded me.
Since thou art gone from me, glory is gone from my life;
Dumb are the woods and streams, and dumb the voice of my soul;
Dead are the flowers we loved, blackened and sere with blight;
Earth is frost--bound under my foot where our footsteps trod.
Give me back for my sorrow the days of senseless peace,
Days when I thought not of thee, or thought in wisdom;
Let me see thee once more as thou to my folly wert,
A woman senseless as sounding brass or as tinkling cymbal.
Why didst thou show me thy heart, which I thought not of?
Why didst thou bare me thy soul, who to me wert soulless?
Why didst thou kiss my mouth, when my mouth did mock?
Why didst thou speak to my lips of love, ere my lips had spoken?
Love, thou hast made me thine, thine, and in my despite,
Laying thy hand on my heart in the soft Spring weather;
Love, thou hast bought my soul at a price, the price of thine,
Never again to mock at love, ah, never, never!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Swimming The Past Time
Disappear between the space of dust
In a smoke, within the light
Time moves in any speed
Continuously without tired no rest
In a chime of turbulence
Swimming back to the past
For the broad river back to early creek
Unfold the memories of past ages
In the album of experience, our old life
Reversing tears back to enter the eyes
Revisiting old smiles back on lips one more time
Wandering all before just before now
Still, we moving forward heading toward the future
Toward the estuary, swimming follow the flowing time
Moving back or in front, physical still here
Wandering, facing the stream only our mind
All good, bad now a past scenery along the time river
We heading to estuary to be as a part of wise ocean
Till time sending our final destiny to the sea
Another scenery of cry or happy we will feel and see
Just to move forward, forgive, learn to gain from past
Nothing to waste because time moves in any speed
So i will let my tears flow and smiles glow
Live these beautiful feelings in my life
For all time, as i know
Soon we will have no more
to hold each other (time and life)
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Having a break from 'Rise from Ashes' theme
and trying write something like 'Swimming the past time'
A poem that i done as i felt how fast time disappear...
just wrote it and post it
Life walking within time, and time never stop walking
and moves in any speed..so just bring your life some cheers
in everyday even it's hard...or not _Unwritten Soul
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Opals
My soul is like this cloudy, flaming opal ring.
The fields of earth are in it, green and glimmering,
The waves of the blue sky, night's purple flower of noon,
The vanishing cold scintillations of the moon,
And the red heart that is a flame within a flame.
And as the opal dies, and is re-born the same,
And all the fire that is its life-blood seems to dart
Through the veined variable intricacies of its heart,
And ever wandering ever wanders back again,
So must my swift soul constant to itself remain.
Opal, have I not been as variable as you?
But, cloudy opal flaming green and red and blue,
Are you not ever constant in your varying,
Even as my soul, O captive opal of my ring?
poem by Arthur Symons
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Little Miss Sorrow
She had those magic eyes
You could see from miles aroud
She wore her summer dresses bright
Quite like the sky
She always came in colours
All smiles in daffodils
She let her hair down in the breez
But every little thing has changed today
Little Miss Sorrow
Every little thing turned pale and faded
Little Miss Sorrow
The sunlight doesn't show
All the colours go out through the window
She used to go out dancing
Cool silver fingernails
I used to watch her fron the bar
Following her car
She always came in colours
She always kept control
She painted yesterday in gold
But every little thing turned grey today
Little Miss Sorrow
Every little thing turned pale and faded
Little Miss Sorrow
The sunlight doesn't show
All the colours go even the rainbow
Allow me to introduce myself
I'm just a local boy
She was my Little Miss Joy
I want to call her name
My life won't be the same, Dear God
Every little thing has changed today
Little Miss Sorrow
Every little thing turned pale and faded
Little Miss Sorrow
Yes, every little thing turned grey today
Little Miss Sorrow
The weakling plays the strong
The bird forgot the song
What's going on?
What's going on?
Tell me, what's going on?
What's going on?
What's going on?
Tell me, what's going on?
From album
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring's Bedfellow
Spring went about the woods to-day,
The soft-foot winter-thief,
And found where idle sorrow lay
’Twixt flower and faded leaf.
She looked on him, and found him fair
For all she had been told;
She knelt adown beside him there,
And sang of days of old.
His open eyes beheld her nought,
Yet ’gan his lips to move;
But life and deeds were in her thought,
And he would sing of love.
So sang they till their eyes did meet,
And faded fear and shame;
More bold he grew, and she more sweet,
Until they sang the same.
Until, say they who know the thing,
Their very lips did kiss,
And Sorrow laid abed with Spring
Begat an earthly bliss.
poem by William Morris
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