Gazing at the Sacred Peak
For all this, what is the mountain god like?
An unending green of lands north and south:
From ethereal beauty Creation distills
There, yin and yang split dusk and dawn.
Swelling clouds sweep by. Returning birds
Ruin my eyes vanishing. One day soon,
At the summit, the other mountains will be
Small enough to hold, all in a single glance.
Related quotes
Gazing at the Sacred Peak
For all this, what is the mountain god like?
An unending green of lands north and south:
From ethereal beauty Creation distills
There, yin and yang split dusk and dawn.
Swelling clouds sweep by. Returning birds
Ruin my eyes vanishing. One day soon,
At the summit, the other mountains will be
Small enough to hold, all in a single glance.
Looking at Mount Tai
How is Mountain Tai?
Its green is seen beyond State Qi and State Lu,
a distillation of creation's spirit and beauty.
Its slopes split day into Yin and Yang.
Its rising clouds billow in my chest.
Homecoming birds fly through my wide-open eyes.
I should climb to the summit
and in one glance see all other mountains dwarfed.
On A Prospect Of T'ai-shan
How is one to describe this king of mountains? Throught the whole of Ch'i and
Lu one never loses sight of its greenness. In it the Creator has concentrated
all that is numinous and beautiful. Its northern and southern slopes divide the
dawn from the dark. The layered clouds begin at the climber's heaving chest,
and homing birds fly suddenly within range of his straining eyes. One day I
must stand on top of its highest peak and at a single glance see all the other
mountains grown tiny beneath me.
On a Prospect of T'ai-shan
How is one to describe this king of mountains? Throught the whole of Ch'i and
Lu one never loses sight of its greenness. In it the Creator has concentrated
all that is numinous and beautiful. Its northern and southern slopes divide the
dawn from the dark. The layered clouds begin at the climber's heaving chest,
and homing birds fly suddenly within range of his straining eyes. One day I
must stand on top of its highest peak and at a single glance see all the other
mountains grown tiny beneath me.
Green New Zealand
I've seen great sights of beauty in my travels
The gold and grey landscapes, the brown and green
But south Pacific Islands of New Zealand
Are beautiful as anywhere I've seen.
I've seen the hills of Sherbrooke east of Melbourne
Where tall mountain ash reach upwards towards the sky
And cool rainforests of northern New South Wales and Queensland
Are memories I can recall and enjoy.
I've seen the high hills of Britain and Ireland
Of such green beauty famous bards have wrote
But I would write a song for green New Zealand
Had I been blessed with gift of rhyming poet.
I've seen the wild brown outback of Australia
It's rugged beauty man could never tame
A different sort of beauty to New Zealand
And no two sorts of beauty seem the same.
I've seen the Catskill mountains in their splendour
When flowers were blooming in the month of May
And birds sang in the leafy mountain woodlands
But that was years ago and far away.
The lush green hills and valleys of New Zealand
As beautiful as I have ever seen
And the Homeland of the kakapo and kiwi
Can compare with to anywhere I've been.
poem by Francis Duggan
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270
What shall I tell this great mountain?
That I have seen everything from here?
I breathe thin air here
Day and night
I stretch my hands to the clouds
I touch
I tire my eyes to the sun above
I follow the birds flying to the other island
But I shall not rest
I shall climb this great and high mountain some more
To see everything
In a single glance
Without even moving an eyelash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hungry For Discernment, (or Power?)
What shall I tell this great mountain?
That I have seen everything from here?
I breathe thin air here
Day and night
I stretch my hands to the clouds
I touch
I tire my eyes to the sun above
I follow the birds flying to the other island
But I shall not rest
I shall climb this great and high mountain some more
To see everything
In a single glance
Without even moving an eyelash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Myth of Winter
Once more! The earth tilted towards the sun
That sent the frigid wind from north to south
Making summer marked the earth as it leaves
The trees and grassy mountains thirsty and dry,
Doom of the universe that darkened the clouds;
Rains of fate are in Mother Nature’s hands best;
Cynical desire of an earthling is still incomplete;
Must he know how, how winter showers bleed?
Yet, look around the snowy-veil of this mountain;
As bride in the aisle of clouds, she is shimmering;
Willing to standstill upon the eyes of her beholder,
With question in mind: Why winter cries in flakes?
Bound to love the creation of God, this artist’s hand
Laid this endless beauty on canvas, when she dies;
Selfsame, self-story then from wall to wall, he hangs
With tireless doubt in mind: Why do winter leaves?
Then the earth tilts once more away from the sun,
And brought back the trees and mountains anew,
Yet! Still, this earthling has composed a question,
“Why do other places have no winter like mine? “
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Sunrise, Sunset
O Sun, When you rise,
It’s morning dawn.
When you set,
It’s evening dusk.
O Sun, Seeing your beauty lighting
Shining on landscape from dawn
Shining on seascape from dusk
It comes from dawn to dusk.
O Sun, rise from East
O Sun, set to West
From East to West,
Celestial light comes and go,
Seasons come and go.
Here come four seasons
North to South, East to West
From Spring comes Autumn,
From Summer comes Winter.
O Sun, From rising East
To setting West
O Moon, Come rising East
To setting West
Cycle never end,
It’s endless cycle,
Seeing sunset every dusk,
Seeing sunrise every dawn.
Making us pondering..
Make us wondering
Where, When will be next..
Sunrise, sunset..
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Yin-yang-yin
A teacher asked a student
To define life
The student could craft
Thoughts out of naught
He started to chant something like this
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo
When yin sleeps
Yang wake-up
Yin yang yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo
Together they fit
To form a whole
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo
Opposite they are
But still seeking balance
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo
Contrary but still
Not in opposition
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Y o
Two aspects
Of a single truth
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo
Rather than trying to replace each other
They transform into a single reality
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo
The teacher listened
And got furious
Said with a sneer
I could not discern
Your babble your prattle
If you could yourself
Please mister nonsense!
The child turned crimson
But still had dare
He countered the teacher
By means of wit:
Life is a whole
With dual poles
If Yang is the light
Yin is the night
Yang bites yin
Yin bites yang
Both have to fleet
As they are on a flight
What then lasts!
Is yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo
So dear teacher
Am I not right?
In Your Hands
In the silence of my being
Never empty
Because you are here
Though i cannot
Touch you physically
Your spirit
Warms me dear
Through the early dawn
And into the later
Of the day
Empty is this room
Of stone
But your wishes
I will obey
I kindle up
My tired bones
And clear
My weary green eyes
Lay down upon
My empty bed
And imagine you
By my side
With the twilight
And the dusk
And soon
The ebony
Of the night
I grab the pillow
Next to me
And hold it
As if you, so tight
I manage to make
It through
Day after weary day
Dreaming of you
And your green eyes
Returning i
To you
An uncreated lump of clay!
poem by Theodora Onken
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The Little Chimney Sweep - Victorian Times
What is above all these chimneys, I asked the young lad,
The chimney sweep boy replied,
Why Sir, it's the sky which is sometimes so blue,
That when I look up and glance at the view,
Such glory cannot be denied.
What lies in that sky then, I asked the young lad,
The boy gazing up now replied,
Oh Sir, clouds and sunshine, at night moon and stars,
Planets like Jupiter, Saturn and Mars,
What wonders out there can be spied?
Is your work very unbearable, I asked the young lad,
Most times Sir, it is, he replied,
From dawn until dusk, I'm climbing to sweep,
The soot from the chimneys, for my food and my keep,
My Master cannot be defied.
Do you 'welcome' the sky, I asked the young lad,
When I'm climbing, I do, he replied,
It's my friend when it's dark and the way up is hard,
Because sometimes I get burn't and then badly scarred,
There's many a time I have cried.
What then do you wish for, I asked the young lad,
With yearning, he slowly replied,
I would love to be free and fly like the birds,
Way up in the sky, and if I had the words,
Write about how I'd feel like inside.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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When the mountains cry
When the mountains cry
Split and cracked walls endocrine
Water come out off for redraws the terrain of time
And shake off the dust and life returns
And blooming flowers
The smell of life in the meadows
The birds return to build the nest
After a long migration
And wore a green dress mountain
The wedding starts
Wedding Life
When the mountains cry
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
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Cloud-Break
With a turn of his magical rod,
That extended and suddenly shone,
From the round of his glory some god
Looks forth and is gone.
To the summit of heaven the clouds
Are rolling aloft like steam;
There's a break in their infinite shrouds,
And below it a gleam.
O'er the drift of the river a whiff
Comes out from the blossoming shore;
And the meadows are greening, as if
They never were green before.
The islands are kindled with gold
And russet and emerald dye;
And the interval waters outrolled
Are more blue than the sky.
From my feet to the heart of the hills
The spirits of May intervene,
And a vapor of azure distills
Like a breath on the opaline green.
Only a moment!-and then
The chill and the shadow decline,
On the eyes of rejuvenate men
That were wide and divine.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Research on Cinderalla - after Shel Silverstein In search of Cinderalla
From dawn til dusk,
from land to land,
without too much ado,
I'd seek the perfect ankle,
From dawn til dusk
I'd stretch my hand
to virgin, husk, - not you! -
perceptions change, oh dear, they do!
perfection minds must rankle
In Search of Cinderella
From dusk to dawn,
From town to town,
Without a single clue,
I seek the tender, slender foot
To fit this crystal shoe.
From dusk to dawn,
I try it on
Each damsel that I meet.
And I still love her so, but oh,
I've started hating feet.
- Shel Silverstein
poem by Jonathan Robin
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You Can't Have Everything
The Queensland sun shines early in the morning
And keeps on burning hotter through the day
And though the Parklands watered by the sprinklers
Through the pale green patches of brown through gray.
But I know of a Land of natural greeness
Where Spring doesn't often come till early May
Though birds from early April on nest building
In that green Country half a World away.
I close my eyes I hear the dipper singing
And wild flowers bloom along the mountain stream
And chaffinch pipes his happy notes to April
And grass is growing and fields look lush and green.
Here in the Gold Coast in deep south of Queensland
The lorikeets and noisy miners sing
They have only known the warmth of the sub tropics
Where Winter's warmer than the northern Spring.
In distant Land above the bracken mountain
The lark is piping in the morning sky
Till lost to view he soars towards gathering rain clouds
And singing ever singing as he fly.
In South Queensland the rain is always welcome
And sun shine all year round and wild birds sing
But I know of a Country green and wetter
Which goes to prove you can't have everything.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Love Poem
Yours is the face that the earth turns to me,
Continuous beyond its human features lie
The mountain forms that rest against the sky.
With your eyes, the reflecting rainbow, the sun's light
Sees me; forest and flower, bird and beast
Know and hold me forever in the world's thought,
Creation's deep untroubled retrospect.
When your hand touches mine it is the earth
That takes me--the green grass,
And rocks and rivers; the green graves,
And children still unborn, and ancestors,
In love passed down from hand to hand from God.
Your love comes from the creation of the world,
From those paternal fingers, streaming through the clouds
That break with light the surface of the sea.
Here, where I trace your body with my hand,
Love's presence has no end;
For these, your arms that hold me, are the world's.
In us, the continents, clouds and oceans meet
Our arbitrary selves, extensive with the night,
Lost, in the heart's worship, and the body's sleep.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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The Guilt of Nature
Mountains of green beauty rise around me.
Springs essence blooms from Earth's finest treasures.
As I walk, streaks of thin green crunch beneath thy feet.
The beauty of is
Rich,
Valuable,
Treasure.
As the gentle breeze whispers in my ear I wish the gorgeous lands will always stay, but pollution comes as a deep, dark mass of destruction.
Only we can save it,
Do you wish for it to last?
As I perch upon the branch of this natural tower of green,
I see before me the beauty within.
A scent of fresh leaves calls to me
'These beautiful lands of green shall always stand'
I wish they would, for their magnificence is pure.
The guilt is on you...
save this.
The rich,
valuable,
treasurable land.
poem by Elizabeth Turner
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Haiku is
haiku is telling the readers
how the day starts
and how it actually ends
the light, the mist, the birds, the sun
how the dawn is different from the dusk
how the birds sing in the dawn
and how they sing in the dusk
and ultimately how the sun rises
and how it sets
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Yang Yang
Yang yang holds on to a giant phone,
Yang yangs soft voice goes on and on,
I hate you, I hate you, where did it go wrong?
Yangyang goes talking to himself on the phone.
Yang yang sends his men pebbles and stones,
Yang yang rips his women down to the bones.
I own you, I own you, so give us a song,
Yangyang goes talking to his world on the phone.
Yang yangs born with a phone cord round his neck,
Yang yang never fails to stick to his kick.
I want you, I want you, youre making me sick.
But yangyang, the chords never long enough
To reach your mommys trick.
Yang yang yang yang yang,
Yang yang yang yang yang,
Yang yang, snap out,
Give up, cut out,
Tune up and join us,
Join the revolution,
Join the revolution.
No kick is good enough for lifetime substitution,
No brick will give you a lifetime consolation.
And whether you dig it or not,
We outnumber you in population.
And leave your private institution,
Get down to real communication,
Leave your scene of destruction
And join us in revolution.
Yang yang yang yang yang,
Yang yang yang yang yang,
Yang yang, wake up,
Give up, cut out,
Come out and join us,
Join the revolution,
Join the revolution.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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