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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Related quotes

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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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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Telulah
Life is like the songs of Mosheh,
And my ways are like a journey from Texas to Texas!
But, 'Yah-Way' is the way of the truth for you all.
My love is clean as crystal,
My mind is white as snow,
Like in the Lamb's Book of Life;
Oh Telulah, love is all that you need in this life.
Be fruitful and multiply like,
The craftsmen in bronze and iron;
Of the male and the female to a call on this earth,
With love as the keyword to all things.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Closer To Us All
Silver and gold!
Bronze and brass;
From me to you to satisfy the muse of your love!
But, the works of the last days are now closer to us all than ever.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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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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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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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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1 Plus 5 Equals To Your Lovers
1 plus 5 equals to your lovers around you,
But panelled with pine and engraved with words;
For the wonderful woodcutters are here to stay.
Cattle, sheep, donkeys;
To expose your love to your lovers around,
And like a gem cutter with the works of art.
Rings of gold and rings of silver,
7 kilometres long! !
But your only ember is with the rings of bronze.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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The biggest trade that Germany and Britain had was with each other, in the prewar period; I think I'm right in that. Two highly industrialized nations had the most trade with each other, and it wasn't tariff policies alone that made trade relations better for both of them.
quote by W. Averell Harriman

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mask
One love and peace,
One care and hope,
I am from Benin in Nigeria!
But out of Egypt came my ancestors.
They settled in Nigeria out of love,
And the Assyrians know my identity as well;
And like Bronze, Sculptures and Terracotta.
The mask on my face is to tell you a story,
With Ivory, Slaves and Gold as part of the trade;
And with greetings from the White Volta and the Black Volta,
And like King Mansa Musa of Mali! !
But, the Portuguese came for Gold and Slaves on the West Coast of Africa.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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A Highly Evolved Being
A highly evolved being
would not kill,
A highly evolved being,
would meditate and be still.
A highly evolved being
is “positively aware”
of everything including
birds in the air.
A highly evolved being
enjoys everything
and needs nothing.
They do not need see evil to be
“Postively Aware”.
For a highly evolved being
only shares,
and really cares
For all are ALL ONE,
from the same source,
For life becomes a meditation
and everything is a part of the whole,
everything works together
helping each other grow.
Grow and become the best
that they can be,
To be an effect on the future
and make it filled with merriness and glee.
poem by Christina Sunrise

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Occasional Demons
Well, you got a big-jib crane waiting to pick you up.
Mmmm, you see those snakes that crawl, theyre just dying
To trip you up.
Live out in sad shacks at the back of town.
Hold your breath while we do you down
'cos were all kinds of animals coming here:
Occasional demons too.
Well, you got a nice apartment here with appliances and cd.
Were gonna leave your stereo, but well have your soul for tea.
Im not speaking of material things.
Gonna chew you up, gonna suck you in
'cos were all kinds of animals coming here:
Occasional demons too.
Smokestacks, belching black, were the have-nots in your shade.
How about a slice of life, how about some
Human trade?
Eat at the best table in town.
No headwaiter going to turn us down
'cos were all kinds of animals coming here:
Occasional demons too.
song performed by by Jethro Tull

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Vote bank policy
Are you below poverty line
Take 30 kilos rice / wheat
Take five hundred rupees
Take Indra awas house
Take Khadi cloth
We are for you
Give us your valuable vote.
And what more?
We do not want to make you skilled
And what is the value of that
And we are not here
To skilled you in some trade.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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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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Where Have
As I look at old fortifications
that are dotted around my country,
I often wonder about the craftsmen
who worked so hard to build them
without the aid of our modern technology.
How skilled they were with their hands
when you look at the beauty
of their ornate decorations
that make those old building stand out.
You sit and ponder now
where have all their skills gone.
13 May 2008
poem by David Harris

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Through The Fire
Golg, silver, bronze, iron, tin and lead;
Put them through the fire for purification,
For Arabah my love is in another's man's hands.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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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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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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