Related quotes: Wandering from the parent bough,...

Imitation

Wandering from the parent bough,
Little, trembling leaf,
Whither goest thou?
'From the beech, where I was born,
By the north wind was I torn.
Him I follow in his flight,
Over mountain, over vale,
From the forest to the plain,
Up the hill, and down again.
With him ever on the way:
More than that, I cannot say.
Where I go, must all things go,
Gentle, simple, high and low:
Leaves of laurel, leaves of rose;
Whither, heaven only knows!'

poem by Count Giacomo Leopardi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Feuilles D'Automne

Gather the leaves from the forest
And blow them over the world,
The wind of winter follows
The wind of autumn furled.

Only the beech tree cherishes
A leaf or two for ruth,
Their stems too tough for the tempest,
Like thoughts of love and of youth.

You may sit by the fire and ponder
While darkness veils the pane,
And fear that your memories are rushing away
In the wind and the rain.

But you'll find them in the quiet
When the clouds race with the moon,
Making the tender silver sound
Of a beech in the month of June.

For you cannot rob the memory
Of the leaves it loves the best;
The wind of time may harry them,
It rushes away with the rest.

poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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Generations

You are like the stem
Of a young beech-tree,
Straight and swaying,
Breaking out in golden leaves.
Your walk is like the blowing of a beech-tree
On a hill.
Your voice is like leaves
Softly struck upon by a South wind.
Your shadow is no shadow, but a scattered sunshine;
And at night you pull the sky down to you
And hood yourself in stars.

But I am like a great oak under a cloudy sky,
Watching a stripling beech grow up at my feet.

poem by Amy Lowell
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Leaves (thread)

under the dogwood
leaves cover
a cat’s grave

early spring
one leaf still dangles
from the tree

palmistry
dew drops on a leaf
pick a vein

widow’s diary
pressed rose petal
the last leaf

with the rain drops
leaves flutter to the ground
fall showers

fallen leaves
circusing in the grass
merry-go-wind

October shower
leaves in the gutter
disembark

leaves changing colors
across the landscape
season's chameleons

morning rain
under maple leaves
tap my shoulder

leaves ripple
with melodies
cicadas song

These were published online by Sketchbook. See September/October “leaves” Haiku thread:

poem by Ben Gieske
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When The Leaves Come Falling Down

I saw you standing with the wind and the rain in your face
And you were thinking bout the wisdom of the leaves and their grace
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
And at night the moon is shining on a clear, cloudless sky
And when the evening shadows fall Ill be there by your side
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place beside the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space before the twilight and the dawn
Oh, the last time I saw paris in the streets, in the rain
And as I walk along the boulevards with you, once again
And the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place between the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space between the twilight and the dawn
And as Im looking at the colour of the leaves, in your hand
As were listening to chet baker on the beach, in the sand
When the leaves come falling down,
Woe in september, when the leaves come falling down
Oh when the leaves come falling down
Yeah in september when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falting down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spirit

I would not breathe, when blows thy mighty wind
O'er desolate hill and winter-blasted plain,
But stand in waiting hope if I may find
Each flower recalled to newer life again
That now unsightly hides itself from Thee,
Amid the leaves or rustling grasses dry,
With ice-cased rock and snowy-mantled tree
Ashamed lest Thou its nakedness should spy;
But Thou shall breathe and every rattling bough
Shall gather leaves; each rock with rivers flow;
And they that hide them from thy presence now
In new found robes along thy path shall glow,
And meadows at thy coming fall and rise,
Their green waves sprinkled with a thousand eyes.

poem by Jones Very
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At End Of A Holiday

'LEAVES and brambles from hill and hollow
Come and gather!' the children cried;
'The sun goes down, and the night will follow,
A moonless night on the dark hillside.'
All ways they wandered — the dry twigs snapping,
With laugh and prattle and song between;
Down on the rocks the waves were lapping,
The long swell swaying the seaweed green.
And she stood by in her white sun-bonnet,
All lace and snow on her tressy hair,
With a gold king-beetle dreaming on it
A lotus dream in the lustrous air.
Was it love, or a dove in the tall tree cooing?
Was it love, or a dove that loitered nigh?
The eventide is the hour for wooing —
But I was silent, and she was shy.
Then suddenly rose a far faint humming,
A growing noise in the evening hush,
And the prattle of children homeward coming,
Laden with spoil of the gold-brown bush.
'Leaves and brambles from hill and hollow!
The way was tangled, and tangles tire.
The sun goes down and the night will follow, —
Now down on your knees and make us a fire!'
The leaves were wet (how a storm may hinder!)
The brambles damp with a shower at noon;
She bent to help . . .and my heart of tinder,
Ah, why did it burst to flame so soon?
'Dry leaves, dry leaves from the twilight forest,
Or bark that is sheltered, or hidden ferns:
Dry leaves, dry leaves!' the children chorused,
'The drier the leaf the redder it burns!'
The fire leapt up with a sudden glancing,
The first flame flushing her hands of snow;
And round about went the children dancing,
Their faces lit by the rosy glow.
That fire has gone beyond all returning,
For wild winds scatter and chill rains drench:
All dust the leaves; but a fire is burning
That wind or water shall never quench.
Ah, leaves and brambles from hill and hollow!
And two together, and violet eyes . . .
The sun goes down, and love must follow,
A quenchless fire, and a flame that dies.

poem by Roderic Quinn
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Images

Like a gondola of green scented fruits
Drifting along the dark canals of Venice,
You, O exquisite one,
Have entered into my desolate city.

The blue smoke leaps
Like swirling clouds of birds vanishing.
So my love leaps forth toward you,
Vanishes and is renewed.

III

A rose-yellow moon in a pale sky
When the sunset is faint vermilion
In the mist among the tree-boughs
Art thou to me, my beloved.

A young beech tree on the edge of the forest
Stands still in the evening,
Yet shudders through all its leaves in the light air
And seems to fear the stars -
So are you still and so tremble.

The red deer are high on the mountain,
They are beyond the last pine trees.
And my desires have run with them.

The flower which the wind has shaken
Is soon filled again with rain;
So does my heart fill slowly with tears,
Until you return.

poem by Richard Aldington
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Wasnt Born To Follow

(gerry goffin / carole king)
Though Id rather go and journey
Where the diamond crescents glowing
Run across the valleys
Beneath the sacred mountain
And wander through the forest
Where the trees of leaves are prisms
That break the light of day into colours
That no-one knows the names of
And when its time
I go and wait beside
A legendary fountain
til I see your form reflected
In its clear and jewelled water
And if you think Im ready
You may lead me to the chasm
Where the rivers of our vision
Flow into one another
And Ill stay awhile
And wonder at
The myths that theyve created
And lose myself within it
Cleanse my mind and body
And I know at the moment
As I stand in that cathedral
I will want to dive in
The white cascading water, water, water
He may beg
And he may plead
He may argue with his logic
He can mention all the things Ill lose
That really have no value
Though I doubt that he will ever come
To understand my meaning
In the end hell surely know
I was not born to follow
I was not born to follow
I wasnt born to follow, no, no
I wasnt born to follow
I wasnt born to follow, no, no
I wasnt born to follow
I wasnt born to follow
Said i......

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Madness Of King Goll

I SAT on cushioned otter-skin:
My word was law from Ith to Emain,
And shook at Inver Amergin
The hearts of the world-troubling seamen,
And drove tumult and war away
From girl and boy and man and beast;
The fields grew fatter day by day,
The wild fowl of the air increased;
And every ancient Ollave said,
While he bent down his fading head.
'He drives away the Northern cold.'
They will not hush, the leaves a-flutter round me, the beech leaves old.

I sat and mused and drank sweet wine;
A herdsman came from inland valleys,
Crying, the pirates drove his swine
To fill their dark-beaked hollow galleys.
I called my battle-breaking men
And my loud brazen battle-cars
From rolling vale and rivery glen;
And under the blinking of the stars
Fell on the pirates by the deep,
And hurled them in the gulph of sleep:
These hands won many a torque of gold.
They will not hush, the leaves a-flutter round me, the beech leaves old.

But slowly, as I shouting slew
And trampled in the bubbling mire,
In my most secret spirit grew
A whirling and a wandering fire:
I stood: keen stars above me shone,
Around me shone keen eyes of men:
I laughed aloud and hurried on
By rocky shore and rushy fen;
I laughed because birds fluttered by,
And starlight gleamed, and clouds flew high,
And rushes waved and waters rolled.
They will not hush, the leaves a-flutter round me, the beech leaves old.

And now I wander in the woods
When summer gluts the golden bees,
Or in autumnal solitudes
Arise the leopard-coloured trees;
Or when along the wintry strands
The cormorants shiver on their rocks;
I wander on, and wave my hands,
And sing, and shake my heavy locks.
The grey wolf knows me; by one ear
I lead along the woodland deer;
The hares run by me growing bold.
They will not hush, the leaves a-flutter round me, the beech leaves old.

I came upon a little town
That slumbered in the harvest moon,
And passed a-tiptoe up and down,
Murmuring, to a fitful tune,
How I have followed, night and day,
A tramping of tremendous feet,
And saw where this old tympan lay
Deserted on a doorway seat,
And bore it to the woods with me;
Of some inhuman misery
Our married voices wildly trolled.
They will not hush, the leaves a-flutter round me, the beech leaves old.

I sang how, when day's toil is done,
Orchil shakes out her long dark hair
That hides away the dying sun
And sheds faint odours through the air:
When my hand passed from wire to wire
It quenched, with sound like falling dew
The whirling and the wandering fire;
But lift a mournful ulalu,
For the kind wires are torn and still,
And I must wander wood and hill
Through summer's heat and winter's cold.
They will not hush, the leaves a-flutter round me, the beech leaves old.

poem by William Butler Yeats
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George Edmunds' Song

Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
How like the hopes of childhood's day,
Thick clust'ring on the bough!
How like those hopes in their decay-
How faded are they now!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!

Wither'd leaves, wither'd leaves, that fly before the gale:
Withered leaves, withered leaves, ye tell a mournful tale,
Of love once true, and friends once kind,
And happy moments fled:
Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!

poem by Charles Dickens
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Sonnet LXIX: Autumn Idleness

This sunlight shames November where he grieves
In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun
The day, though bough with bough be over-run.
But with a blessing every glade receives
High salutation; while from hillock-eaves
The deer gaze calling, dappled white and dun,
As if, being foresters of old, the sun
Had marked them with the shade of forest-leaves.
Here dawn to-day unveiled her magic glass;
Here noon now gives the thirst and takes the dew;
Till eve bring rest when other good things pass.
And here the lost hours the lost hours renew
While I still lead my shadow o'er the grass,
Nor know, for longing, that which I should do.

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Falling Leaves

Summer has passed, but
The weather is still fair.
The once leaf-laden trees,
Are, now, almost bear.

Leaves spiral down;
Spinning round and round,
Until, at last, they
Reach the ground.

The once green leaves,
Have now grown old,
And have created below,
A carpet of red, brown, and gold.

Whipped around by the wind,
The fallen leaves, float and fly.
A sudden gust of wind, catches them,
Sending them, sailing up high.

Leaves crunch underfoot;
They curl and decay.
There's a musty smell in the air,
As they slowly, waste away.

Soon the leaves will be gone,
And where they once had lain,
Will be just their lacy skeleton;
Soon, only an impression will remain.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sun's Last Ray

Upon the blue mountain I stood,
Upon the mountain as he sank into the Rivers of Night:
The camps of the clouds in the heavens were shining with evening fires, many-colored,
And the pools on the plain below gleamed with many reflections:
All things were made precious with the Day's last ray.

Farewell, my Father, the Shining One!
Farewell, whither thou goest,
Like an aged chieftain adorned with the splendors of many deeds!
Thou dost touch the world with many reflections,
With parting injunctions many -
Thy thought thou hast given us.

poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Summit Redwood

Only stand high a long enough time your lightning
will come; that is what blunts the peaks of
redwoods;
But this old tower of life on the hilltop has taken
it more than twice a century, this knows in
every
Cell the salty and the burning taste, the shudder
and the voice.

The fire from heaven; it has
felt the earth's too
Roaring up hill in autumn, thorned oak-leaves tossing
their bright ruin to the bitter laurel-leaves,
and all
Its under-forest has died and died, and lives to be
burnt; the redwood has lived. Though the fire
entered,
It cored the trunk while the sapwood increased. The
trunk is a tower, the bole of the trunk is a
black cavern,
The mast of the trunk with its green boughs the
mountain stars are strained through
Is like the helmet-spike on the highest head of an
army; black on lit blue or hidden in cloud
It is like the hill's finger in heaven. And when the
cloud hides it, though in barren summer, the
boughs
Make their own rain.

Old Escobar had a cunning trick
when he stole beef. He and his grandsons
Would drive the cow up here to a starlight death and
hoist the carcass into the tree's hollow,
Then let them search his cabin he could smile for
pleasure, to think of his meat hanging secure
Exalted over the earth and the ocean, a theft like a
star, secret against the supreme sky.

Submitted by Holt

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Rose And The Fern

LADY, life's sweetest lesson wouldst thou learn,
Come thou with me to Love's enchanted bower
High overhead the trellised roses burn;
Beneath thy feet behold the feathery fern,--
A leaf without a flower.

What though the rose leaves fall? They still are sweet,
And have been lovely in their beauteous prime,
While the bare frond seems ever to repeat,
'For us no bud, no blossom, wakes to greet
The joyous flowering time!'

Heed thou the lesson. Life has leaves to tread
And flowers to cherish; summer round thee glows;
Wait not till autumn's fading robes are shed,
But while its petals still are burning red
Gather life's full-blown rose!

poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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The Sun's Last Rays

poem by Hartley Burr Alexander
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Forest Of Berries

The forest expected it, the woods create,
A storm has arrived with the leaves;
Wind blew and created, the leaves turned,
Bellies adjusted to the food.

What were berries? The berry is wonderful,
For the strawberry is the best.
A forest of leaves crazes me, as no other,
Never in too many lives does it create.

Tomorrow it lies with leaves and more,
The best berries are for me, the law;
When are you expected to dance?
The hour is near when the berries are present.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Foxfire Suite

This song appears on three albums, and was first released on the different directions album, and has also been released on the gift you are and the john denver collection - rocky mountain high a
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Spring is alive
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Over a hundred years ago
We came to carolina
Far across the water
Its a long hard road
With little more than courage
We came seeking independence
A little less than nothin
Is a heavy load
From the heather of the highlands
We have found the smokie mountains
Hard work and simple ways
And life is good
Life is good
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
You are
You are every morning sunrise
You are every rain
You are every peal of laughter
You are every cry of pain
You are all the summer flowers
You are all the falling leaves
You are everyone rejoicing
You are everyone who greaves
You are all my unknown secrets
You are all my hidden fears
You are known in lovers kisses
You are seen in childhood tears
You are where the stars are shining
You are where the rainbow ends
You are why the war is over
You are how the peace begins
Whisper the wind
Whisper the wind over the water
Whisper the wind all through the night
Whisper the wind along the canyon
Whisper the wind into the night
Whisper the wind brothers and sisters
Whisper the wind all the same
Whisper the wind love one another
Whisper the wind your precious name
Spring is alive (reprise)
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Over a hundred years ago
We came to carolina
Far across the water
Its a long hard road
With little more than courage
We came seeking independence
A little less than nothin
Is a heavy load
From the heather of the highlands
We have found the smokie mountains
Hard work and simple ways
And life is good
Life is good
Spring is alive
In carolina
Deep in the forest
Where the foxfire glows
High on a mountain
Down in a holler
Thunder and lightning
So it goes
Words and music by john denver

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Storm And The Bush

There are only two things in the world—
The storm in the air and the stretch of green leaves;
The flesh of the forest that quivers and heaves
As the blast on its bosom is hurled.
Above is the whip of the wind
That scourges the cowering forest beneath:
The Storm spits the hiss of the hail from his teeth,
And leaves the world writhing behind!
Like a beast that is bound in a cage
When the keeper's lash lights and the keeper's goad stings,
Each tree his great limbs to his torturer flings
In a groaning and impotent rage.
As the leaves to a fiercer gust lean
The wind throws their undersides upward to sight,
And the foam of the forest-sea flashes to white
Out over full fathoms of green.

poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Heaven

Heaven
Lyrics by: Lucy Simon / Carly Simon
I can almost touch the stars
Filling up the night
On their way around the world
They stop their flight
I can see the brightest star
Dazzling in the west
Three wise men follow
With no time for rest
And heaven can't be far
From where we lie
Heaven can't be far
From where we lie
Follow, follow
Pilgrims follow
To see the carpenters' child
Born the king of angels
He is meek and mild
Son of Joseph
Son of Mary
Son of love
He is born
Son of all believers
On this Christmas morn
And heaven can't be far
From where we lie
Heaven can't be far
From where we lie

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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