En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Overnight at the Riverside Tower

Evening colors linger on mountain paths.
Out beyond this study perched over River Gate,
At the cliff's edge, frail clouds stay
All night. Among waves, a lone, shuddering

Moon. As cranes trail off in flight, silent,
Wolves snarl over their kill. I brood on
Our wars, sleepless here and, to right
A relentless Heaven and Earth, powerless.

poem by Du Fu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Overnight at the Riverside Tower

Evening colors linger on mountain paths.
Out beyond this study perched over River Gate,
At the cliff's edge, frail clouds stay
All night. Among waves, a lone, shuddering

Moon. As cranes trail off in flight, silent,
Wolves snarl over their kill. I brood on
Our wars, sleepless here and, to right
A relentless Heaven and Earth, powerless.

poem by Tu Fu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rattlesnake Trail

Got a hair shirt round my shoulder. got a cold stew in my spoon.
And Im falling on my head, lifting feet of lead ---
Now its got me baying at the moon.
Well, theres a race on for tomorrow. Im stretching out
For what might have been.
Going to come out from the night, got my second sight ---
Play rough --- you know what I mean.
Im going for the kill. Im going tooth and nail
Up that dusty hill --- on the rattlesnake trail.
Got the law laid down to the left of me. got the real world to the right.
Heading up through the middle with my cat and my fiddle ---
Yeah, looking for a fight.
Going to ride hard in bandit country --- on the blind side of the bend.
Keep my nose to the wind while the rabbits skinned ---
Bed down at the journeys end. (be a rattlesnake.)
Im going for the kill. Im going tooth and nail
Up that dusty hill --- on the rattlesnake trail.
The rattlesnake trail.
Im going on the rattlesnake trail.
Going to be with wolves in winter --- run in angry packs by day.
But when you give a dog a bone, he has to be alone ---
Growl, keep the other dogs away.
See that thin moon on the mountain. see that cold star in the sky.
Going to bring them down --- shake them to the ground ---
Put that apple in the pie. (be a rattlesnake.)
Im going for the kill. Im going tooth and nail
Up that dusty hill --- on the rattlesnake trail.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn of Apollo

I.
The sleepless Hours who watch me as I lie,
Curtained with star-inwoven tapestries,
From the broad moonlight of the sky,
Fanning the busy dreams from my dim eyes,--
Waken me when their Mother, the gray Dawn,
Tells them that dreams and that the moon is gone.

II.
Then I arise, and climbing Heaven's blue dome,
I walk over the mountains and the waves,
Leaving my robe upon the ocean foam;
My footsteps pave the clouds with fire; the caves
Are filled with my bright presence, and the air
Leaves the green Earth to my embraces bare.

III.
The sunbeams are my shafts, with which I kill
Deceit, that loves the night and fears the day;
All men who do or even imagine ill
Fly me, and from the glory of my ray
Good minds and open actions take new might,
Until diminished by the reign of Night.

IV.
I feed the clouds, the rainbows, and the flowers,
With their ethereal colors; the Moon's globe,
And the pure stars in their eternal bowers,
Are cinctured with my power as with a robe;
Whatever lamps on Earth or Heaven may shine,
Are portions of one power, which is mine.

V.
I stand at noon upon the peak of Heaven;
Then with unwilling steps I wander down
Into the clouds of the Atlantic even;
For grief that I depart they weep and frown:
What look is more delightful than the smile
With which I soothe them from the western isle?

VI.
I am the eye with which the Universe
Beholds itself, and knows it is divine;
All harmony of instrument or verse,
All prophecy, all medicine, is mine,
All light of art or nature; - to my song
Victory and praise in its own right belong.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Clouds In My Mind

One by one the clouds came by.
I saw beyond them clear blue skies.
One by one my teardrops fell
and clouded the vision in my eyes.
I wipe them away,
Don't let them stay,
no need to keep them all through the day.

I think on spring and every good thing.
I listen for birds and how they sing.
One by one they land on my trees
and lighten my spirit and heartfelt pleas.
Stay in my sight.
Please don't take flight.
I need your songs to linger in my night.

Such is the loneliness that comes to call.
It comes to us for no reason at all.
For life's not simple and clouds the mind.
It's sometimes relentless and often not kind.
Offer me peace.
Let me release
my need to hold onto this loneliness beast.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Down Stream

BETWEEN Holmscote and Hurstcote
The river-reaches wind,
The whispering trees accept the breeze,
The ripple's cool and kind;
With love low-whispered 'twixt the shores,
With rippling laughters gay,
With white arms bared to ply the oars,
On last year's first of May.
Between Holmscote and Hurstcote
The river's brimmed with rain,
Through close-met banks and parted banks
Now near, now far again:
With parting tears caressed to smiles,
With meeting promised soon,
With every sweet vow that beguiles,
On last year's first of June.
Between Holmscote and Hurstcote
The river's flecked with foam,
'Neath shuddering clouds that hang in shrouds
And lost winds wild for home:
With infant wailings at the breast,
With homeless steps astray,
With wanderings shuddering tow'rds one rest
On this year's first of May.
Between Holmscote and Hurstcote
The summer river flows
With doubled flight of moons by night
And lilies' deep repose:
With lo! beneath the moon's white stare
A white face not the moon,
With lilies meshed in tangled hair,
On this year's first of June.
Between Holmscote and Hurstcote
A troth was given and riven,
From heart's trust grew one life to two,
Two lost lives cry to Heaven:
With banks spread calm to meet the sky,
With meadows newly mowed,
The harvest-paths of glad July,
The sweet school-children's road.

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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A Song Of Savoy

As the dim twilight shrouds
The mountain's purple crest,
And Summer's white and folded clouds
Are glowing in the west,
Loud shouts come up the rocky dell,
And voices hail the evening-bell.

Faint is the goatherd's song,
And sighing comes the breeze;
The silent river sweeps along
Amid its bending trees -
And the full moon shines faintly there,
And music fills the evening air.

Beneath the waving firs
The tinkling cymbals sound;
And as the wind the foliage stirs,
I see the dancers bound
Where the green branches, arched above,
Bend over this fair scene of love.

And he is there, that sought
My young heart long ago!
But he has left me - though I thought
He ne'er could leave me so.
Ah! lover's vows - how frail are they!
And his - were made but yesterday.

Why comes he not? I call
In tears upon him yet;
'Twere better ne'er to love at all,
Than love, and then forget!
Why comes he not? Alas! I should
Reclaim him still, if weeping could.

But see - he leaves the glade,
And beckons me away:
He comes to seek his mountain maid!
I cannot chide his stay.
Glad sounds along the valley swell,
And voices hail the evening-bell.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Colors Of The Wind

You think you own whatever land you land on
The earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know evry rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name
You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
Youll learn things you never knew you never knew
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned ?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what theyre worth
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
In a cirle, in a hoop that never ends
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or let the eagle tell you there hes been
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ?
How high does the sycamore grow ?
If you cut it down, then youll never know
And youll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper-skinned
We just sing with all the voices of the mountain
Need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the earth and still
All youll own is earth until
You can paint with all colors of the wind

song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do You Really Want to Know Me?

if you know what a river is
perhaps you will know a man

i am a man and you will say to the river
i have known a man and i have known a river

there is no way that i will never you in full
you shall brag to the clouds in your mind

they drift
there is no permanence
permanence is an illusion
a river
a cloud
water
air

and this is where we must start
educating air

if you step upon my heart and tell me
i have know everything about you and you must not change and that is what you are

you are wrong
for i am a river that encircles a mountain
but i know a path but the paths do not know me

and so i keep on moving
changing paths and what path was it that you have seen yesterday
is no longer the path now

you must accept you have never known a river
because a river is man

and man is not forever man
he is a river that always escapes the hold of your mind

that frame that has walls
without even the possibility of another opening for stars....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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lone walk home
perched on the edge of skyscraper
the full moon

haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The River

WHY hurry, little river,
Why hurry to the sea?
There is nothing there to do
But to sink into the blue
And all forgotten be.
There is nothing on that shore
But the tides for evermore,
And the faint and far-off line
Where the winds across the brine
For ever, ever roam
And never find a home.

Why hurry, little river,
From the mountains and the mead,
Where the graceful elms are sleeping
And the quiet cattle feed?
The loving shadows cool
The deep and restful pool;
And every tribute stream
Brings its own sweet woodland dream
Of the mighty woods that sleep
Where the sighs of earth are deep,
And the silent skies look down
On the savage mountain's frown.

Oh, linger, little river,
Your banks are all so fair,
Each morning is a hymn of praise,
Each evening is a prayer.
All day the sunbeams glitter
On your shallows and your bars,
And at night the dear God stills you
With the music of the stars.

poem by Frederick George Scott
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John Webster: VII

THUNDER: the flesh quails, and the soul bows down.
Night: east, west, south, and northward, very night
Star upon struggling star strives into sight,
Star after shuddering star the deep storms drown.
The very throne of night, her very crown,
A man lays hand on, and usurps her right
Song from the highest of heaven’s imperious height
Shoots, as a fire to smite some towering town.
Rage, anguish, harrowing fear, heart-crazing crime,
Make monstrous all the murderous face of Time
Shown in the spheral orbit of a glass
Revolving. Earth cries out from all her graves.
Frail, on frail rafts, across wide-wallowing waves,
Shapes here and there of child and mother pass.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Block By Block

you see at the top of the mountain
beside the clouds that have become so close to me
like some kind of
domesticated wolves....

you mistake me for a god of the sky
i am not
you tell the man beside you that i must be a
prince of the clouds
i am not

not even the earth shall own me
for i am not of earth though i come from its feet
i belong to no one
not even the trees or the moon and its stars

why am i here? block to block
every corner of my skin pitted against each other
and i rise from my
own profanity
having known the link between sin and love
between God and Man

between Good and evil, between the boundaries of these
seemingly irreconcilable odds

the tunnel of personification of the personal views
honesty and authenticity
flesh and blood and spirit and soul
mind and body

lust and love, that is where i first made the start.
here i am now at the summit of it all.

sitting lotus amidst the murkiness of the pond.
silent, deep, and mindless.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Night Flight

We spend our nights traveling
But never leave the room
Soaring through the midnight clouds
Followed by the moon
You teach me what I never knew
So easily
You take me where I've never been
Stay with me
You tell me things I've never heard
Without a word
Without a word

Night flight
Leaving this old earth behind
Who knows what we'll find
The higher we climb
Night flight
Never been so far from home
Together alone
Destination unknown

My mind does not belong to me
You interrupt my day
And when I try to concentrate

song performed by by Maureen McGovern from State of the Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You, Andrew Marvell

And here face down beneath the sun
And here upon earth's noonward height
To feel the always coming on
The always rising of the night:

To feel creep up the curving east
The earthy chill of dusk and slow
Upon those under lands the vast
And ever climbing shadow grow

And strange at Ecbatan the trees
Take leaf by leaf the evening strange
The flooding dark about their knees
The mountains over Persia change

And now at Kermanshah the gate
Dark empty and the withered grass
And through the twilight now the late
Few travelers in the westward pass

And Baghdad darken and the bridge
Across the silent river gone
And through Arabia the edge
Of evening widen and steal on

And deepen on Palmyra's street
The wheel rut in the ruined stone
And Lebanon fade out and Crete
high through the clouds and overblown

And over Sicily the air
Still flashing with the landward gulls
And loom and slowly disappear
The sails above the shadowy hulls

And Spain go under and the shore
Of Africa the gilded sand
And evening vanish and no more
The low pale light across that land

Nor now the long light on the sea:

And here face downward in the sun
To feel how swift how secretly
The shadow of the night comes on...

poem by Archibald MacLeish
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Rongmon the Fisherman by Dr. Bhupen Hazarika (Translated from Assamese)

That morning
Rongmon the Fisherman
Went fishing
On his wobbly little boat

'Please don't go fishing!
Please don't go fishing!
Look, there comes the storm

O Rongmon, listen,
The river is swarming
With crocodiles
Thirsting for blood'

But towards the evening
In middle of the river
He disappeared 'thout a trace

Beating her bosom
Look'in at heaven
(Rohdoi) gave out a heart piercing wail

‘Go, you waves, take flight
I'll find my way through the night
My Rongmon must be brought home'

Lying on the beach
Brought by the waves
Atlast, She found her Man...

(Translated by S.A.Shah, Bokultol)

poem by Syed Ahmed Shah
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Dance Dance…

Dance dance to the evening
In a dim golden flow
As the leaves sing
In their breezy breezy blow
Morning comes to live
Glowing waves of day
More than enough to give
Of its colors golden lay

Dreams that were of night
Are now all laying still
For the daylight bright
Those aspirations fulfill
Dance dance to the night
Fill the moods of song
In your dream starry flight
Those dreamy feelings long

The stars are out to shine
Within their golden glow
Thru space in horizon line
That the skies now show
Harmony of deep freedom
To the darkness remote
Colors of the ad-infinitum
Opening dawn’s fireboat

Dance dance to the evening
In a dim golden flow
As the leaves sing
In their breezy breezy blow
Morning comes to live
Glowing waves of day
More than enough to give
Of its colors golden lay

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Rainbow Of Clouds

(09/27/11)

Oh! How I love to look at the sky
So many colors that attract the eye.
Blues, grey s , reds, and oranges too
Create such a perfect view.

Especially at dusk or dawn
When new colors are born.
Or when the white clouds look like
Snow covered mountain tops
And the rippling waves that it creates
Puts you at a restful state.

What about the patches of blue
In between the oranges and grey s
And your heart wishing that they would stay.

The skies can create such a therapeutic state
On which so many of us can relate.
Putting our minds and bodies at such ease
Like the feel of a soft gentle breeze.

It also has its black clouds
Covering its face like a shroud.
These dark clouds tend to hide the day
And you never know what will come your way.
But Even the darkest of clouds can bring joy.

The rains that the dark clouds bring
Gives life to everything.

poem by Louis Rams
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Tribal Rites (The Nighshade of Hues)

The nightshades of hue
Blacken the empty abyss

As the moon hangs low
With an eerie neon glow

A shadow moves across the
Barren land as the stars
Glisten in the dark

Thunder claps its roar energy
As the dark clouds creep across the moon

A lone owl hoots its eerie song
As it watches' the moon play hide and seek
With natures dark clouds of doom

The night is dark as the mist
Swirls around the abyss
That gapes at the edge of the cliff

The crackle of thunder crash's
Across the land booming from
One end of the abyss to other

And standing atop a hill
That views over the abyss
A lone figure stands

The wind whips at his clothing
Like a torrent of never ending lashings

His long shoulder length ebony hair
Swirling in the wind

He gazes towards the heavens
And sees the stars and moon
Beckoning to him to fly

But this earth bound body
Can only stand in this glories
Raging storm of the night

He sways to the rhythm of nature
As he recalls his brothers of the tribe
Teasing him of what's install for him

To gain his manhood his rights as a man
To live through this dark abyss
That has tested his father and his father before him
And it is now his turn to prove to the tribe he is a man

So as he stands alone
He embraces himself for natures test
The swirling winds and raging storms
A testament to his strength

As the dawn starts to break
He walks back to his tribe
Were he left a few days before
Just a boy now he returns a man

poem by Kaila George
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God’s Lights

Morning’s painting on the sky above, covers this earth like a glove,
Clouds covered by the sun’s rays, filling earth with abundant praise.
With yet another day to unfold, of God’s wonderful Glory to behold,
The beauty fills hearts and minds, with awe for God’s grand design.

Before the sun is overhead, God paints the clouds a gorgeous red,
This as He moves earth out of night, into the brightness of daylight.
At times the sunlight He shrouds, hiding the sun behind the clouds,
Clouds God paints upon the sky, as wide and vast as they are high.

Although the sun is hid from sight, God keeps it there till fall of night,
Then it’s truly veiled from all eyes, by the ever darker evening skies.
When God shows us another side, as He allows the daylight to hide,
As night’s ushered in by Heaven, God’s lesser light starts to descend.

Now under an ever darker canopy, with lights far as the eye can see,
And the moon above phase by phase, to count both nights and days,
God starts with a new moon friend, with the full moon at month’s end.
This is how God lights the skies, above a world that is filled with eyes.

Lights placed above for all to see, by the hand of The God of Eternity.
The Greatest Light we cannot see; The One who died for you and me.
The Light of Christ soon will shine, from the Eternal City for all of time,
No more need of the moon or sun, for the only Light will be God’s Son.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Sleepless Night

Sleepless night
The moon is bright
All Im asking for is
Three minute love
Legs
What am I going to do with my legs
Theyre so hot
They wont stay on the cot
And theyre screaming!
Sleepless night
The moon is bright
All Im asking for is
Three minute love
Head
What am I going to do with my head
Its so light
It just gives me the fright
Its full of champagne and dreams
Sleepless night
All um umm
All Im asking for is
Three minute love
This brush must sell like crazy
I mean theres a lot of lonely people out there
I wanna go to the ball
I wanna give it all
Ill take it all
Sleepless night
All Im asking for is...
What am I asking for?

song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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