The garden scatters burnt-up beetles...
The garden scatters burnt-up beetles
Like brazen ash, from braziers burst.
I witness, by my lighted candle,
A newly blossomed universe.
And like a not yet known religion
I enter this unheard of night,
In which the shabbily-grey poplar
Has curtained off the lunar light.
The pond is a presented secret.
Oh, whispers of the appletree!
The garden hangs-a pile construction,
And holds the sky in front of me.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Related quotes
‘Like a brazier’s bronze cinders,’
Like a brazier’s bronze cinders,
the sleepy garden’s beetles flowing.
Level with me, and my candle,
a flowering world is hanging.
As if into unprecedented faith,
I cross into this night,
where the poplar’s beaten grey
veils the moon’s rim from sight.
Where the pond’s an open secret,
where apple-trees whisper of waves,
where the garden hanging on piles,
holds the sky before its face.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Margaret
I KNOW a garden where white lilies grow,
Under the grey sweet-laden apple boughs;
It is a garden where the roses blow,
And honeysuckle covers half the house.
O happy garden, do you keep the vows
Breathed in your quiet ear beneath the rose,
Or do you tell the tale to each soft wind that blows?
Across your grassy paths she used to stray,
She moved among you like a living flower,
Her beauty drank your beauty every day,
Your beauty decked her beauty every hour.
You gave her rose and lily for a dower,
With all sweet flowers and fruits your bosom bore--
She took them all--and now she comes not any more.
O garden, if you breathe such secret things
To the south wind who loves you, tell him this:
To spread the scented softness of his wings,
And seek that other garden where she is,
And bid him bear no blossom and no kiss;
Only, dear garden, tell the wind to say
How grey the world is grown since Margaret went away!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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for FUGUSHIMA....
at dawn we again lighted
the lone candle at the altar
we will not blow the light off
till nighttime
till it consumes itself
till we light another candle again
this small light is our offering
to the engulfing darkness of this universe
it is this light that prays in silence
together with those distant stars in the heavens...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Garden
The Garden
By: Adam M. Snow
The garden blooms to your delight;
to and from this very night.
When you are but one;
this garden blooms until you're done.
Keep that in mind but out of sight;
this garden is full of roses so white.
Open up and let shine the sun;
for Springtime has only begun.
Show off your garden so bright;
for there is no need to fight.
Now go on, no need to run;
when you're in your garden my son.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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The Touchstone
There was a garden, very strange and fair
With all the roses summer never brings.
The snowy blossom of immortal Springs
Lighted its boughs, and I, even I, was there.
There were new heavens, and the earth was new,
And still I told my heart the dream was true.
But when the sun stood still, and Time went out
Like a blown candle--when she came to me
Under the bride-veil of the blossomed tree,
Chill through the garden blew the winds of doubt,
And when, with starry eyes, and lips too near,
She leaned to me, my heart knew what to fear.
'It is no dream,' she said. 'What dream had stayed
So long? It is the blessed isle that lies
Between the tides of twin eternities.
It is our island; do not be afraid!'
Then, then at last my heart was well deceived;
I hid my eyes; I trembled and believed.
Her real presence sanctified my faith,
Her very voice my restless fears beguiled,
And it was Life that clasped me when she smiled,
But when she said 'I love you!' it was Death.
That, that at least could neither be nor seem -
Oh, then, indeed, I knew it was a dream!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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My Childhood Garden
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden
poem by Danielle Eager
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When You Define A Thing
when you define
a thing, you limit it,
it is like fencing
your garden
the garden becomes
a set of exclusive
flowers, and anything
not like it becomes
a weed, and anything
that moves
becomes a pest
it is not that you
do not define, we do
it sometimes
only to understand
the limits of
understanding,
but we must be open
to other possibilities
of a garden,
a garden of stones
a garden of sand
of mud, of water
a fountain, a garden
of winds, of clouds
a garden of memories
like a poem
for instance, a garden
of words,
words with arms open
to the magic
of further creation
words still trying
to define themselves
in the garden
of the unknown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Become divine
Each tree a Poetry
In its infinite variety
Each leaf a status
In its food-making process
Each flower a wonder
In its colour, fragrance and splendour
Each fruit a history
In its sweet-storing mystery
Each grass is precious
As in soil-holding it is cautious
Each cactus a marvel
In its tact in survival
Each orchid a sample
As its blossom ever an example
Each garden a universe
As it holds all these, in diverse
Each gardener a God
As he created this universe and takes guard
So to become divine
Develop a garden and maintain
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Birthday Song
Written by kim & ricki wilde
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Theres a forest, a beautiful place
The sun always shines upon your face
And the wind blows away
The troubles inside your mind
Youll find your secret garden
A place that nobody knows (nobody knows)
Where you can go
(scarlett) the world looks bright today but one day youll want to cry
(scarlett) (ah-ah) and when your sky looks grey theres one thing I hope youll know
Theres a place you can go
In the distance, your life in the wings
Who knows what emotions it will bring
But the secrets you hold will help you through anything
(ah-ah) youll find your secret garden
(ah-ah) a place that nobody knows (nobody knows)
Where you can go
(scarlett) the world looks bright today but one day youll want to cry
(scarlett) (ah-ah) and when your sky looks grey theres one thing I hope youll know
Theres a place you can go
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Oh so dont be afraid
If you trust the voice inside of you
Itll guide you on your way
On your way
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
(scarlett) the world looks bright today but one day youll want to cry
(scarlett) (ah-ah) and when your sky looks grey theres one thing I hope youll know
(scarlett) youll find your secret garden, somewhere that you can go
(scarlett) (ah-ah) somewhere where you can grow
Scarlett
Theres a place you can go
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh
Ad lib to fade
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Garden, With My Father
It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.
I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.
But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.
It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Secret Garden
Shell let you in her house
If you come knockin late at night
Shell let you in her mouth
If the words you say are right
If you pay the price
Shell let you deep inside
But theres a secret garden she hides
Shell let you in her car
To go drivin round
Shell let you into the parts of herself
Thatll bring you down
Shell let you in her heart
If you got a hammer and a vise
But into her secret garden, dont think twice
Youve gone a million miles
How fard you get
To that place where you cant remember
And you cant forget
Shell lead you down a path
Therell be tenderness in the air
Shell let you come just far enough
So you know shes really there
Shell look at you and smile
And her eyes will say
Shes got a secret garden
Where everything you want
Where everything you need
Will always stay
A million miles away
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To-Night, To-Night
to-night, to-night
we’ll storm
the house that hangs
above the narrow street
that leads to port.
Ah! that small house
How queer it is:
Its garden how deranged
How creaking
The iron stile
That opens into the garden!
And in the night
The stormy night
None go near the house
For all around
The ground’s unsanctified
By horses’ hooves
And elves and goblins green
And ghosts unseen.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Of The Flie At The Candle
hat ails this fly thus desperately to enter
A combat with the candle? Will she venture
To clash at light? Away, thou silly fly;
Thus doing thou wilt burn thy wings and die.
But 'tis a folly her advice to give,
She'll kill the candle, or she will not live.
Slap, says she, at it; then she makes retreat,
So wheels about, and doth her blows repeat.
Nor doth the candle let her quite escape,
But gives some little check unto the ape:
Throws up her heels it doth, so down she falls,
Where she lies sprawling, and for succour calls.
When she recovers, up she gets again,
And at the candle comes with might and main,
But now behold, the candle takes the fly,
And holds her, till she doth by burning die.
Comparison.
This candle is an emblem of that light
Our gospel gives in this our darksome night.
The fly a lively picture is of those
That hate and do this gospel light oppose.
At last the gospel doth become their snare,
Doth them with burning hands in pieces tear.
poem by John Bunyan
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The Candle
O Candle! I am also an afflicted person in the world assembly
Constant complaint is my lot in the manner of the rue
Love gave the warmth of internal pathos to you
It made me the florist selling blood-mixed tears
Whether you be the candle of a celebrating assembly or one at the grave
In every condition associated with the tears of sorrow you remain
Your eye views all with equity like the Secret's Lovers
My eye is the pride of the tumult of discrimination
Your illumination is alike in the Ka'bah and the temple
I am entangled in the temple and the Haram's discrimination
Your black smoke contains the sigh's elegance
Is some heart hidden in the place of your manifestation?
You burn with pathos due to distance from Tajalli's Light
Your pathos the callous ones consider your light
Though you are burning you are unaware of it all
You see but do not encompass the internal pathos
I quiver like mercury with the excitement of vexation
As well I am aware of vexations of the restless heart
This was also the elegance of some Beloved
Which gave me perception of my own pathos
This cognition of mine keeps me restless
Innumerable fire temples are asleep in this spark
Discrimination between high and low is created by this alone!
Fragrance in flower, ecstasy in wine is created by this alone!
Garden, nightingale, flower, fragrance this Cognition is
Root of the struggle of ‘I and you' this Cognition is
At creation's dawn as Beauty became the abode of Love
The sound of "Kun" taught warmth to the spirit of Love
The command came Beauty of Kun's garden to witness
With one eye a thousand dreadful dreams to witness
Do not ask me of the nature of the veil of being
The eve of separation was the dawn of my being
Gone are the days when unaware of imprisonment I was
That my abode the adornment of the tree of Tur was
I am a prisoner but consider the cage to be a garden
This exile's hovel of sorrow I consider the homeland
Memories of the homeland a needless melancholy became
Now the desire for sight, now Longing for search became
O Candle! Look at the excessive illusion of thought
Look at the end of the one worshipped by celestial denizens
Theme of separation I am, the exalted one I am
Design of the Will of the Universe's Lord I am
He desired my display as He designed me
When at the head of Existence' Divan He wrote me
The pearl likes living in a handful of dust
Style may be dull the subject is excellent
Not seeing it rightly is the fault of shortsighted perception
The universe is the show of effulgence of taste for Cognizance
This network of time and space is the scaling ladder of the Universe
It is the necklace of the neck of Eternal BeautyI
have lost the way, Longing for the goal I am
O Candle! Captive of perception's illusion I am
I am the hunter as well as the circle of tyranny's net!
I am the Haram's roof as well as the bird on Haram's roofAm I the Beauty or head to foot the melting love am I?
It is not clear whether the beloved or the Lover am I?
am afraid the old secret may come up to my lips again
Lest story of suffering on the Cross may come up again.
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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A night at a garden
A river crossing in the forest gloom ground
Brings me down from a hill secluded and tall
The garden roses that once we stroll
Is empty and forgetful of you and me
And lost it seems in troubles that circle endlessly around
Here at the head of a tinkling fall
The rivulet at the chasm trying to pass its way to the sea
The rivulet struggles the mounting rocks at the fall
As I do to hear you once again whisper
In odor and in color
“Be among the roses tonight”
Come into the garden of roses love
For the frightening black bat night has flown
Come into the secret garden dove
I am here at the gate but the moon alone
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad
And the musk of the roses in the night air is blown
For the breeze down the bank bay moves
And the garden of love is as high
Being to faint in the din of a remote horse hooves
On a bed of daffodils sky
To faint in the light of the rising sun I love
To faint waiting in its light and die
copy rights 2010
Garden, The
do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe that he was there
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe or do you care
Did he rise from the ashes and lead the sky above
Did he lie in the name of love
....in the garden
Do you believe in the path that you follow
Do you believe it takes you where you want
Do you believe in the lies that you swallow
Do you believe it takes you where you go
See the man. he never lies he never will
Did he fight for the right to kill
....in the garden
....in the garden
There's a little man in a house alone...waiting
He doesn't lie.
He doesn't wait for love to hold on to
He doesn't lie. he doesn't wait...
Johnny's in the garden
I see the err in my ways
....in the garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe that he was there
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe or do you care
Did he rise from the ashes and lead the sky above
Did he lie in the name of love
....in the garden
Do you believe in the path that you follow
Do you believe it takes you where you want
Do you believe in the lies that you swallow
Do you believe it takes you where you go
See the man. he never lies he never will
Did he fight for the right to kill
....in the garden
....in the garden
Theres a little man in a house alone...waiting
He doesnt lie.
He doesnt wait for love to hold on to
He doesnt lie. he doesnt wait...
Johnnys in the garden
I see the err in my ways
....in the garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe that he was there
Do you believe in the man in the garden
Do you believe or do you care
Did he rise from the ashes and lead the sky above
Did he lie in the name of love
....in the garden
Do you believe in the path that you follow
Do you believe it takes you where you want
Do you believe in the lies that you swallow
Do you believe it takes you where you go
See the man. he never lies he never will
Did he fight for the right to kill
....in the garden
....in the garden
Theres a little man in a house alone...waiting
He doesnt lie.
He doesnt wait for love to hold on to
He doesnt lie. he doesnt wait...
Johnnys in the garden
I see the err in my ways
....in the garden
Do you believe in the man in the garden
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Prayer For Me
soon i will be one of the hollow people
and soon i will have nothing but air inside me
why can't i make a choice between substance
and emptiness?
i can. There is this light that leads me to
his Grace. There is this door that always opens.
There is this garden where all
the flowers always bloom
and never wilt.
I follow the light. I open the door.
I enter the garden.
As easy as that. I only need to call His Name.
And He is always there.
I do not have to suffer and
be confused. He is happiness. He is certainty.
I do not have the right to inflict
this unnecessary injury into my soul.
Amen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Garden
Your garden in summer, i watch colours blaze
Lighting my soul, bleeding their violet haze
Morning so still perfumed air cools my mind
Lingering thrill as all beauty i find.
In your garden birdsong hangs in the trees
Escaping the dawn to cling to the breeze
And i feel soft and content with you
Out here where our Eden grew.
I remember your garden and you in starlight
We stood alone, save our dreams, after midnight
And both knew so rare this bliss
Would linger like our loving kiss
Our woes before and after we'd pardon
Oh that heaven, standing in your garden.
poem by Kevin East
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