Tomb of Evrion
In this tomb—ornately designed,
the whole of syenite stone,
covered by so many violets, so many lilies—
lies handsome Evrion,
an Alexandrian, twenty-five years old.
On his father's side, he was of old Macedonian stock,
on his mother's side, descended from a line of magistrates.
He studied philosophy with Aristokleitos,
rhetoric with Paros, and at Thebes
the sacred scriptures. He wrote a history
of the province of Arsinoites. That at least will survive.
But we've lost what was really precious: his form—
like a vision of Apollo.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Related quotes
On His Father's Side
On his mother’s side
Born in Bethlehem
On his Father’s side
No one before him
On his mother’s side
Growing and learning
On his Father’s side
All knowledge showing
On his mother’s side
Stuck in one location
On his Father’s side
Present in every nation
On his mother’s side
He was hungry
On his Father’s side
The multitudes he did feed
On his mother’s side
At Calvary he died
On his Father’s side
He was the essence of life
On his mother’s side
Buried like other men
On his Father’s side
He rose again
On his mother’s side
Human and weak
On his Father’s side
The God of eternity.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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To A Sexton
Let thy wheel-barrow alone--
Wherefore, Sexton, piling still
In thy bone-house bone on bone?
'Tis already like a hill
In a field of battle made,
Where three thousand skulls are laid;
These died in peace each with the other,--
Father, sister, friend, and brother.
Mark the spot to which I point!
From this platform, eight feet square,
Take not even a finger-joint:
Andrew's whole fire-side is there.
Here, alone, before thine eyes,
Simon's sickly daughter lies,
From weakness now, and pain defended,
Whom he twenty winters tended.
Look but at the gardener's pride--
How he glories, when he sees
Roses, lilies, side by side,
Violets in families!
By the heart of Man, his tears,
By his hopes and by his fears,
Thou, too heedless, art the Warden
Of a far superior garden.
Thus then, each to other dear,
Let them all in quiet lie,
Andrew there, and Susan here,
Neighbours in mortality.
And, should I live through sun and rain
Seven widowed years without my Jane,
O Sexton, do not then remove her,
Let one grave hold the Loved and Lover!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Precious
Precious little angel
Take a look at what you've done
Well I thought my time was over
But it's only just begun
Precious little angel
You're my own sweet turtle dove
Won't you stay with us for ever
In a bundle full of love
I was lost until you came
Precious little angel
Won't you spread you light on me
I was locked up in the darkness
Now you've come to set me free
I was covered up with sadness
I was drowned in my own tears
I've been cynical and twisted
I've been bitter all these years
I was lost until you came
I was lost until you came
And wouldn't I run a thousand miles
To be with you
And wouldn't I run a thousand miles
To be with you
Precious little angel
Tell me how can it be true
That such a gift from heaven
Has been sent for me and you
Precious little angel
Don't you worry don't you cry
When this bad old world has crumbled
I'll be standing at your side
I was lost until you came
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father God
Father we leave year 2007 and walk through the gate of 2008
Father God, I thank you for all the years you have given me.
For allowing me to live with love, trust and prosperity.
Oh Father I travelled through darkness back into the light.
You never let me out of your sight.
You are my strength, you are my power,
you never forgot me in my saddest hour.
When all else fails you stand by my side
giving me the courage needed to survive.
Father thank you for the precious gifts,
My children, my talents, the honour to live.
To see your beauty from an earthlings eyes.
To gaze at the view in your awesome sky.
I thank you for the earth so beautiful and green,
the vast waters filled with treasures unseen.
Thank you Father for every breath I take
For the eyes to see each morning i wake
In the name of your precious son Jesus
Thank you Father God.
Written: Jan.8,2008
poem by Melvina Germain
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Poetics
- You're betraying Poetry again, you'll tell me,
Man's most sacred expression
You're using it again as a means, a pack-mule
For your sinister objectives
In full knowledge of the damage you're doing
To the young through your example.
- Tell me what you have not betrayed
You and your kind, for years and years,
Bartering your possessions one by one
In international markets and common bazaars
So you're left without eyes to see, without ears
To hear, with lips sealed and you say nothing.
For which of man's sacred rights are you arraigning us?
I know: preaching and rhetoric again, you'll say.
Well, yes! Preaching and rhetoric.
Words have to be hammered like nails.
If they're not to be lost in the wind.
poem by Manolis Anagnostakis from The Target (1970), translated by David Conolly
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Precious Memories
Precious memories, unseen angels
Sent from somewhere to my soul
How they linger ever near me
And the sacred scenes unfold
Precious father, loving mother
Fly across the lonely years
And those old home scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appear
Chorus:
Precious memories
How they linger
How they ever flood my soul
Then, the stillness of the midnight
Precious sacred scenes unfold
Repeat chorus
Tag:
Precious memories
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Precious Memories
As I travel down lifes pathway,
Know not what the years may hold.
As I ponder, hopes grow fonder,
Precious memories flood my soul
Precious father, loving mother,
Glide across the lonely years.
And old homes scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appears.
Precious memories, how they linger
How they ever flood my soul.
In the stillness of the midnight,
Precious sacred scenes unfold.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Two Fight Each Other
When mother and father
Or son and daughter
Or the spouse and children
Are in logger heads
With whom must I take side?
What do scriptures say?
Being neutral is the best couse
If not censured by the concience..
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Song of Myself, XI
Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore,
Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly;
Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome.
She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank,
She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.
Which of the young men does she like the best?
Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.
Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.
Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather,
The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.
The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long
hair,
Little streams pass'd over their bodies.
An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies,
It descended trembling from their temples and ribs.
The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun,
they do not ask who seizes fast to them,
They do not know who puffs and declines with the pendant and bending
arch,
They do not think whom they souse with spray.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Precious Memories
(traditional)
As I travel down lifes pathway
Know not what the years may hold
As I ponder, hope grows fonder
Precious memories flood my soul
Precious father, loving mother
Glide across the lonely years
And old homes scenes of my childhood
Infond memories appears
Precious memories, how they linger
How they ever flood my soul
In the stillness of the midnight
Precious sacred scenes unfold
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roses Are Red (Jessica)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Honey is so sweet and so are you darling!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You've made my dreams come true!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have my brown eyes glued on YOU!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I feel like i have known you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are so FINE that you give me the BLUES!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Lord knows that im falling for you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I just want to Rock with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
These lips can't wait to be kissing you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I do anything to claim you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I bow down to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I've never met anyone as HOT as you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
never knew i would meet you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm going to bed would you like to come too!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I rather spend my precious time with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are beautiful as sparkling DIAMOND!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You have me speechless everytime i talk to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
May i have this dance with you (JESSICA)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have mentioned your name so many time i have lost count!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I dont want no-one if i cant have you. #PERIOD
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I want to give you everlasting Joy, Happiness, and especially LOVE!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm the one who will make your dreams come true
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Chilli is hot and so are you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
JESSICA ITA JAMES WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Roses are red Violets are blue,
THIS POEM WAS MADE FOR YOU.......
poem by Obi Onyenwe
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The Holy Water
No one lives outside the walls of this sacred place, existence.
The holy water, I need it upon my eyes: it is you, dear, you – each form.
What mother would lose her infant – and we are that to God,
never lost from His gaze are we? Every cry of the heart
is attended by light’s own arms.
You cannot wander anywhere that will not aid you.
Anything you can touch – God brought it into
the classroom of your mind.
Differences exist, but not in the city of love.
Thus my vows and yours, I know they are the same.
I have just peeled the skin from the potato
and you are still contemplating its worth,
sweetheart; indeed there are wonderful nutrients in all,
for God made everything.
You joined our community at birth.
With your Father being who He is, what do the
world’s scales know of your precious value.
The priest and the prostitute – they weigh the same before the Son’s
immaculate being,
but who can bear that truth and freedom,
so a wise man adulterated the
scriptures;
every wise man knows this.
My soul’s face has revealed its beauty to me;
why was it shy so long, didn’t it know how this made me suffer
and weep?
A different game He plays with His close ones.
God tells us truths you would not believe,
for most everyone needs to limit His compassion; concepts of
right and wrong preserve the golden seed
until one of God’s friends comes along and tends your body
like a divine bride.
The Holy sent out a surveyor to find the limits of its compassion
and being.
God knows a divine frustration whenever He acts like that,
for the Infinite has
no walls.
Why not tease Him about this?
Why not accept the freedom of what it means
for our Lord to see us
as Himself.
So magnificently sovereign is our Lover; never say,
'On the other side of this river a different King rules.”
For how could that be true – for nothing can oppose Infinite strength.
No one lives outside the walls of this sacred place, existence.
The holy water my soul’s brow needs is unity.
Love opened my eye and I was cleansed
by the purity of each
form.
poem by Rabia al Basri
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The Wall Between
The wall between is grown so thin
That whoso peers may see
A flutter of rose, a living green
Like new leaves on a tree.
The wall's now gotten many a chink
Where whoso leans may hear
The feet of them who pass to drink
All at a well clear.
The people go, the people flow
T'other side o' the wall
With silken rustle and laughter low
As to a festival.
Come mother and wife and piteous bride,
The wall's nigh broken through;
And there be some the other side
That peep and pry for you.
So thin has grown, like a precious stone,
The wall no eye might pass,
You may have vision of your own
As through a crystal glass.
And if that sight should you delight
Your tears will all be dried,
For souls so bright that walk in white
Dear bliss on the other side.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The history of philosophy is not, like the history of the sciences, to be studied with the intellect alone. That which is receptive in us and that which impinges upon us from history is the reality of man's being, unfolding itself in thought.
quote by Karl Jaspers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Male parental hierarchy.
My parents are two, grandparents four
And great grandparents, eight and so on.
I am known by my father, his father,
And his father and so on by male side.
My mother, her mother and father, their
Mother and father and so on are ignored.
My fathers’ mother and grandfather’s
Mother and so on go to oblivion.
I am known by my father, his father
And his father and so on as a family.
All women from whom I have drawn
Their genes have been shut out.
Parental hierarchy is represented
By male, women dislodged at every stage.
25.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Jugurtha
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
Cried the African monarch, the splendid,
As down to his death in the hollow
Dark dungeons of Rome he descended,
Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended;
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended,
As the vision, that lured him to follow,
With the mist and the darkness blended,
And the dream of his life was ended;
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ultima Thule: Jugurtha
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
Cried the African monarch, the splendid,
As down to his death in the hollow
Dark dungeons of Rome he descended,
Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended;
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended,
As the vision, that lured him to follow,
With the mist and the darkness blended,
And the dream of his life was ended;
How cold are thy baths, Apollo!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Brown Eyed Handsome Man
(Berry)
Well, flying across the desert in a TWA, I saw a woman walking in the sand.
She'd be walking thirty miles en route to Bombay to meet a brown eyed handsome man,
her destination was a brown eyed handsome man.
Way back in history three thousand years, in fact ever since the world began,
there's been a whole lotta good women shedding tears over a brown eyed handsome man,
a lot of trouble was a brown eyed handsome man.
Well, the Milo de Venus was a beautiful lass, she had the world in the palm of her hand
she lost both her arms in a wrestling match to win a brown eyed handsome man,
she fought and won herself a brown eyed handsome man.
Well, a beautiful daughter couldn't make up her mind between a doctor and a lawyer man.
Her mother told her daughter go out and find yourself a brown eyed handsome man,
just like your daddy was, a brown eyed handsome man.
Well, a two, three the count with nobody home he hit a high flyer into the stand.
A rounded third he was a-heading for home,
it was a brown eyed handsome man that won the game, It was a brown eyed handsome man.
It was a brown eyed handsome man.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Agrarian Unrest....
my father is a landlord.
He sent me to a big university in the city.
I studied philosophy.
The university taught me about equality.
Compassion. We studied existentialism
The poverty of the masses.
The agrarian unrest.
The essence of man
The quality of life
Justifications of living
Explanations of death
After life.
I wrote a class report about a child who ate
only a handful of rice for breakfast
plus brown sugar as viand
and then a glass of water for his thirst
from the nearby river
and then he was left in the house
as his father works in the field
and his mother
sells vegetables in the market.
When i left the child, The
heavy silence of the world fell upon my shoulder.
One day father took me for a vacation in our land.
There are mountains. Lots of trees.
A beautiful place.
There is a house there
Dilapidated. A tenant lives there
There is a hungry child.
Drought. Long hot days.
I pity the poor condition. But i no longer ask for the cause.
Then the tenant asks me if i can give him land.
Or a part of father's land.
I have no answer.
I could have told him, I do not own anything,
I do not live here
and father is still alive...
And wants me to be firm and cruel.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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See You On The Other Side
Voices, a thousand, thousand voices
Whispering, the time has passed for choices
Golden days are passing over, yeah
I cant seem to see you baby
Although my eyes are open wide
But I know Ill see you once more
When I see you, Ill see you on the other side
Yes, Ill see you, Ill see you on the other side
Leaving, I hate to see you cry
Grieving, I hate to say goodbye
Dust and ash forever, yeah
Though I know we mus be parted
As sure as stars are in the sky
Im gonna see when it comes to glory
And Ill see you, Ill see you on the other side
Yes Ill see you, Ill see you on the other side
Never thought Id feel like this
Strange to be alone, yeah
But well be together
Carved in stone, carved in stone, carved in stone
Hold me, hold me thight, Im falling
Far away. distant voices calling
Im so cold. I need you darling, yeah
I was down, but now Im flying
Straight across the great divide
I know youre crying, but Ill stop you crying
When I see you, I see you on the other side
Yes. Ill see you. see you on the othe side
Im gonna see you. see you on the other side
God knows Ill see you, see you on the other side, yeah
Ill see you. see you on the othe side
Im gonna see you. see you on the other side
God knows Ill see you, see you on the other side, yeah
I wanna see you, yeah, yeah, yeah, see you on the other side
God knows Ill see you, see you on the other side, yeah
Im gonna see you. see you on the other side
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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