Bronzes
I
The bronze General Grant riding a bronze horse in Linc-
oln Park
Shrivels in the sun by day when the motor cars whirr
by in long processions going somewhere to keep ap-
pointment for dinner and matineés and buying and
selling
Though in the dusk and nightfall when high waves are
piling
On the slabs of the promenade along the lake shore near
by
I have seen the general dare the combers come closer
And make to ride his bronze horse out into the hoofs
and guns of the storm.
II
I cross Lincoln Park on a winter night when the snow
is falling.
Lincoln in bronze stands among the white lines of snow,
his bronze forehead meeting soft echoes of the new-
sies crying forty thousand men are dead along the
Yser, his bronze ears listening to the mumbled roar
of the city at his bronze feet.
A lithe Indian on a bronze pony, Shakespeare seated with
long legs in bronze, Garibaldi in a bronze cape, they
hold places in the cold, lonely snow to-night on their
pedestals and so they will hold them past midnight
and into the dawn.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Related quotes
Sincere Thanks
Sincere thanks to the Africans who,
Made us proud at the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games;
For there their talents were exposed to the world.
Thanks to Kenya who got the total of 14 medals:
Made up of 5 Gold medals,5 Silver medals and 4 Bronze medals.
Thanks to Ethiopia who got the total of 7 medals:
Made up of 4 Gold medals, a Silver medal and 2 Bronze medals.
Thanks to Zimbabwe who got the total of 4 medals:
Made up of a Gold medal and 3 Silver medals.
Thanks to Cameroon who got a single Gold medal,
Thanks to Tunisia who got a single Gold medal,
Thanks to Nigeria who got the total of 4 medals:
Made up of a Silver medal and 3 Bronze medals.
Thanks to Algeria who got 2 medals:
Made up of a Silver medal and a Bronze medal.
Thanks to Morocco who got 2 medals:
Made up of a Siver medal and a Bronze medal.
THanks to South Africa who got a single Silver medal,
Thanks to Sudan who got a single Silver medal,
Thanks to Egypt who got a single Bronze medal,
Thanks to Mauritius who got a single Bronze medal,
And tanks to Togo who also got a single Bronze medal.
You've really made Africa proud and we do thank you all!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Bronze Trumpets and Sea Water - On Turning Latin into English
Alembics turn to stranger things
Strange things, but never while we live
Shall magic turn this bronze that sings
To singing water in a sieve.
The trumpets of Cæsar's guard
Salute his rigorous bastions
With ordered bruit; the bronze is hard
Though there is silver in the bronze.
Our mutable tongue is like the sea,
Curled wave and shattering thunder-fit;
Dangle in strings of sand shall he
Who smoothes the ripples out of it.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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Trimmed
Trimmed with saws on their inner and outer faces,
And like the bronze of the craftsmen around the town;
But i am highly skilled and experienced in all kinds of trade,
Fo my love to you is like the bronze works of art.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In Memoriam: Anna Akhmatova, poet
Last Spring I stood
in front of the bronze statue
they’ve put up in your honour
on the banks of the Neva
not far from the prison's red wall
just as, half in jest, you requested it,
never expecting this...
the thaw had just started
and a white snow crystal, already half transparent,
melted in the corner of your bronze eye
as if it were a tear
I watched it slide down Spring's warming bronze,
down past your name on the base,
across the trodden snow of the pavement,
into the Neva whose memory is time itself,
and as it joined the river's flow of breaking, creaking ice and snow
the sunlight caught it, briefly.
The next day
I walked to your dacha in the woods
as the first light rain of Spring
gently washed the birch saplings
and the brown leaves of last autumn now revealed
made a silent carpet for my feet;
and the pale sunlight
caught a raindrop, briefly.
In some future Spring
a poet’s tears fall as gentle rain.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Fields Of Gold
There are fields of Gold behind the little house
Filled with the greatest of treasures
Bronze, Gold and Silver
Do you remember?
Remember our childhood, Our life’s
The shinning Silver sparkling in the skies
The brightest Bronze hidden under the ground
The greatest Gold glimmering through the fields
Can you see them?
Picture it in your mind
All the times we danced
Every time we laughed
Where we used to love
Or have you forgotten?
Forgotten the good, Forgotten the bad
Every memory
Every moment
Every word
I wish you’d remember
To turn back time, So you could take me
Take me to the gold
To the fields on a summers day
To our fields, our treasure
The Silver, The Bronze
The Gold
But the treasures gone
The house still remains
The fields just as empty as the day we left
Times have changed
Our life’s have changed
Our Silver gone dull
Our Bronze all rusted
Our Gold long forgotten
It was never there
The winds of time and turns of the earth have seen to that
But I remember
I cry for the children who found the greatest of treasures and those who lost it so soon after
And I dream of dancing and singing and running and laughter, of the treasures that lie in the fields of Gold.
poem by Carrie Halliday
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Roman Fountain
Up from the bronze, I saw
Water without a flaw
Rush to its rest in air,
Reach to its rest, and fall.
Bronze of the blackest shade,
An element man-made,
Shaping upright the bare
Clear gouts of water in air.
O, as with arm and hammer,
Still it is good to strive
To beat out the image whole,
To echo the shout and stammer
When full-gushed waters, alive,
Strike on the fountain's bowl
After the air of summer.
poem by Louise Bogan
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Iron Sinew
An iron sinew and a brow bronze!
With bankruptcy in the land of your muse;
But the muse of your love is what i know,
And like the thoughts that appeared to me.
Sterling,
Cheap labour,
Finance,
Large amount of gold,
Bounties! !
But with the muse of imperialism to disturb your plans!
And like an iron sinew and a brow bronze;
But never give up on your dreams.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In The Louvre
Queen Karomana, slim you stand,
In bronze with little flecks of gold—
Queen Karomana.
O royal lady, lift your hand,
Shatter the stone museum cold,
Queen Karomana.
The wide Nile sleeps, the desert stings
With color. Shake your tresses free,
Queen Karomana !
The sleepy lotus shines and swings—
Loose your bound limbs and sail with me
In a smooth shallop to the sea,
Queen Karomana!
Queen Karomana, still so mute,
So delicate, yet cold as snow,
Queen Karomana?
An ice-wind, boldly resolute,
Rippled your thin robe long ago,
And froze you into bronze—I know—
But left your garment's flecks of gold
And the slim grace men loved of old,
Queen Karomana!
poem by Harriet Monroe
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In the fifties I had dreams about touching a naked woman and she would turn to bronze or the dream about hot dogs chasing donuts through the Lincoln Tunnel.
quote by Robert Klein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Frederick Henry Hedge
AT A DINNER GIVEN HIM ON HIS EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY,
DECEMBER 12, 1885
With a bronze statuette of John of Bologna's Mercury,
presented by a few friends.
FIT emblem for the altar's side,
And him who serves its daily need,
The stay, the solace, and the guide
Of mortal men, whate'er his creed!
Flamen or Auspex, Priest or Bonze,
He feeds the upward-climbing fire,
Still teaching, like the deathless bronze,
Man's noblest lesson,--to aspire.
Hermes lies prone by fallen Jove,
Crushed are the wheels of Krishna's car,
And o'er Dodona's silent grove
Streams the white, ray from Bethlehem's star.
Yet snatched from Time's relentless clutch,
A godlike shape, that human hands
Have fired with Art's electric touch,
The herald of Olympus stands.
Ask not what ore the furnace knew;
Love mingled with the flowing mass,
And lends its own unchanging hue,
Like gold in Corinth's molten brass.
Take then our gift; this airy form
Whose bronze our benedictions gild,
The hearts of all its givers warm
With love by freezing years unchilled.
With eye undimmed, with strength unworn,
Still toiling in your Master's field,
Before you wave the growths unshorn,
Their ripened harvest yet to yield.
True servant of the Heavenly Sire,
To you our tried affection clings,
Bids you still labor, still aspire,
But clasps your feet and steals their wings.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Le Repos
Le bronze grave étreint de son sommeil pesant
Ton corps au geste las et ta face verdie ;
Et quelle douloureuse et douce tragédie
T’a faite la statue où tu dors à présent ?
Le marbre de ton socle est rouge et l’on y sent
Partout la pourpre encor d’une tache agrandie ;
Est-ce la flèche aiguë ou la hache hardie
Qui t’a couchée ainsi plus belle dans ton sang ?
Le bronze jaune et vert qui souffre et qui suppure,
Dont s’aigrit la patine et suinte la coulure,
Sculpte de ton repos un cadavre éternel ;
Et la matière où tu survis te décompose ;
Mais, puisque tendre fut ton Destin ou cruel,
Laisse croître à tes pieds la ciguë ou la rose.
poem by Henri de Regnier
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Perspective
Le cuivre du trophée et le bronze du buste
Juxtaposent l’or jaune et la patine verte ;
Le carquois se suspend près de la corne ouverte,
Cérès en fleurs sourit à Diane robuste.
Le parquet de bois clair mire la fresque inverse
Où trône le Héros que la Victoire illustre ;
L’éclair silencieux rôde de lustre en lustre,
Et le soleil s’irise au cristal qu’il traverse.
Le glorieux Passé, nu sous son laurier d’or,
Par les fenêtres, voit se refléter encor,
Dans l’échiquier verdi des portes de miroirs,
Le lys mystérieux du jet d’eau, et, votifs,
Dressant sur le ciel clair leur double bronze noir,
Le cippe d’un cyprès et la stèle d’un if.
poem by Henri de Regnier
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Walls Of Bronze
Walls of bronze,
Where is my lover who left last night?
For i am now fed with wormwood and,
I want to know her state of life over there.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Behind the Bronze Door
When we were negative three or four
we'd play back behind the heavy bronze door
in white linen dresses and silver shoes
our eyes swirled infinity in blue-green hues
Sunbeams shot out through our skin
while harp and lute softened the din
and there was no such thing as pain
and dreams stayed watered by invisible rain
You'd lead me by your slender hand
to the lake of life with it's daffodil sand
saying 'Stay awhile and if you please,
we'll share ladyfingers and cucumber tea'
Then down to the water with me in tow
to the middle of the lake we'd row and row
where imaginary things chased our innocence
through thick green fog and wispy mists
And frightened I would want to leave
tugging at your pure white linen sleeve
to abandon fate as worry and fear
made me think that 'they' were drawing near
But you would never row away
and by the close of the foray
you'd wrapped them in your wings of love
descending on them like a holy dove
Then soon our make believe would cease
they'd surrender to us in placid peace
And we'd make them our friends forevermore
And we'd all live ever happy
back behind the bronze door
poem by Sara Fielder
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The Bronze [I Am the God of Gymnastics]
Melissa Rauch, Sebastian Stan
from The Bronze (2015)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Bronze [That's a List]
Melissa Rauch, Thomas Middleditch
from The Bronze (2015)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Bronze [Dancing with the Coaches]
Melissa Rauch, Gary Cole
from The Bronze (2015)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Bronze [Learning to Say No]
Melissa Rauch, Gary Cole
from The Bronze (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Bronze is the mirror of the form wine, of the heart.
Bronze in the mirror of the form, wine of the mind.