Our Lives Are Swiss
Our lives are Swiss --
So still -- so Cool --
Till some odd afternoon
The Alps neglect their Curtains
And we look farther on!
Italy stands the other side!
While like a guard between --
The solemn Alps --
The siren Alps
Forever intervene!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Some men storm imaginary Alps all their lives and die in the foothills cursing difficulties which do not exist.
Some men storm imaginary Alps all their lives, and die in the foothills cursing difficulties which do not exist.
quote by Edward W. Howe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When my Geography teacher draws French Alps on the Blackboard?
She could draw maps nicely
and once she said; 'Here the French Alps.'
I was not interesred of the mountains those days?
And mesmerized of of her magical smile!
O that dimples on her both cheeks
When she smiles.
Once a week my usual routine
out of the class without a cause
Probably my mysterious looks at her?
When I was in the port of Marseille in France
A French lady walked along the pier
towards the yacht harbour.
I just came down on the ship's gangway
with a cigarette in my mouth.
And she smiled with me
her dimples on the cheeks
dragged me to my Geography class.
I verified of French Alps
with a stevedore near by
'O it's far away'
he said annoyingly!
I had a sad nostalgic feeling
that how far I was from my motherland?
It haunts me everywhere
in the same manner being an alien
to this unknown World?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Advance – Come Forth From Thy Tyrolean Ground
ADVANCE-come forth from thy Tyrolean ground,
Dear Liberty! stern Nymph of soul untamed;
Sweet Nymph, O rightly of the mountains named!
Through the long chain of Alps from mound to mound
And o'er the eternal snows, like Echo, bound;
Like Echo, when the hunter train at dawn
Have roused her from her sleep: and forest-lawn,
Cliffs, woods and caves, her viewless steps resound
And babble of her pastime!-On, dread Power!
With such invisible motion speed thy flight,
Through hanging clouds, from craggy height to height,
Through the green vales and through the herdsman's bower-
That all the Alps may gladden in thy might,
Here, there, and in all places at one hour.
poem by William Wordsworth
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To Italy. (From Filicaja)
Italy! Italy! thou who'rt doomed to wear
The fatal gift of beauty and possess
The dower funest of infinite wretchedness
Written upon thy forehead by despair;
Ah! would that thou wert stronger or less fair,
That they might fear thee more or love thee less,
Who in the splendour of thy loveliness
Seem wasting, yet to mortal combat dare!
Then from the Alps I should not see descending
Such torrents of armed men, nor Gallic horde
Drinking the wave of Po, distained with gore,
Nor should I see thee girded with a sword
Not thine, and with the stranger's arm contending,
Victor or vanquished, slave for evermore.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Swiss Song, On The Anniversary Of An Ancient Battle
Look on the white Alps round!
If yet they gird a land
Where freedom's voice and step are found,
Forget ye not the band,
The faithful band, our sires, who fell
Here, in the narrow battle-dell!
If yet, the wilds among,
Our silent hearts may burn,
When the deep mountain-horn hath rung,
And home our steps may turn,
-Home!-home!-if still that name be dear,
Praise to the men who perish'd here!
Look on the white Alps round!
Up to their shining snows
That day the stormy rolling sound,
The sound of battle rose!
Their caves prolong'd the trumpet's blast,
Their dark pines trembled as it pass'd!
They saw the princely crest,
They saw the knightly spear,
The banner and the mail-clad breast
Borne down, and trampled here!
They saw-and glorying there they stand,
Eternal records to the land!
Praise to the mountain-born,
The brethren of the glen!
By them no steel-array was worn,
They stood as peasant-men!
They left the vineyard and the field
To break an empire's lance and shield!
Look on the white Alps round!
If yet, along their steeps,
Our children's fearless feet may bound,
Free as the chamois leaps:
Teach them in song to bless the band
Amidst whose mossy graves we stand!
If, by the wood-fire's blaze,
When winter-stars gleam cold,
The glorious tales of elder days
May proudly yet be told,
Forget not then the shepherd-race,
Who made the hearth a holy place!
Look on the white Alps round!
If yet the sabbath bell
Comes o'er them with a gladdening sound,
Think on the battle-dell!
For blood first bath'd its flowery sod,
That chainless hearts might worship God!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Father Explains
"There where that ray touches the plain
And the shadows escape as if they really ran,
Warsaw stands, open from all sides,
A city not very old but quite famous.
"Farther, where strings of rain hang from a little cloud,
Under the hills with an acacia grove
Is Prague. Above it, a marvelous castle
Shored against a slope in accordance with old rules.
"What divides this land with white foam
Is the Alps. The black means fir forests.
Beyond them, bathing in the yellow sun
Italy lies, like a deep-blue dish.
"Among the many fine cities that are there
You will recogni2e Rome, Christendom's capital,
By those round roofs on the church
Called the Basilica of Saint Peter.
"And there, to the north, beyond a bay,
Where a level bluish mist moves in waves,
Paris tries to keep pace with its tower
And reins in its herd of bridges.
"Also other cities accompany Paris,
They are adorned with glass, arrayed in iron,
But for today that would be too much,
I'll tell the rest another time
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Sky Song
The flower of the Alps told the seashell: "You're shining"
The seashell told the sea: "You echo"
The sea told the boat: "You're shuddering"
The boat told the fire: "You're glowing brightly"
The fire told me: "I glow less brightly than her eyes"
The boat told me: "I shudder less than your heart does when she appears"
The sea told me: "I echo less than her name does in your love-making"
The seashell told me: "I shine less brightly than the phosphorus of desire in your hollow dream"
The flower of the Alps told me: "She's beautiful"
I said: "She's beautiful, so beautiful, she moves me."
poem by Robert Desnos
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Streets Of Little Italy
(robbie seidman)
Producer for bonnie: desmond child
The narrow and the winding ways
The streets of old new york
The families, the street life, the spark
The rooftop where we watched
San gennaros festival
Masquerades in the dark...
On the streets down in little italy
Where the past goes on and on forever
And I feel it ever present
In every step I take alone
On the streets down in little italy
The oceans and the years
That separate our lives
From these streets we once called our home
Those distances of space and time
How strong they are
And how weak they are...
On the streets down in little italy
Where the past goes on and on forever
And I feel it ever present
In every step I take alone
On the streets down in little italy
Does the morning sunlight
Still hit the bed where we used to lie
Do the sidewalk stands and markets still overflow
Where I lingered till I was empty
Where I stayed till I had to go
Though in the night
Sometimes I see you disappear
Down cobblestones...
On the streets down in little italy
Where the past goes on and on forever
And I feel it ever present
In every step I take alone
Like your presence in my bones
On the streets down in little italy
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vacation 13
I went to Niagara, and saw a giant waterfall
When I was in Paris, I saw a tower that is tall
I was in Muenster Germany, and rode a bike
On Champs-Elysees Avenue, I had quite a hike
I had dinner with Andrea, and paid with my VISA
I went to The Louvre, and saw the Mona Lisa
I took a few trains, and rode a bus all night
I saw a total eclipse, that was OUTTA SIGHT! ! !
I rented a car, and drove to Nice
When I was in Italy, I was flagged down by police
I was driving very fast, without a mishap
My entire time in Italy, I had no map
I saw topless girls, catching a sunbeam
When I was in Venice, I had the BEST ice cream! ! ! !
I LOVED flyin' down the highway, with no traffic jams
I enjoyed a lot of different foods, even spaghetti with clams
The beauty of Slovenija & Austria, brought about bliss
The Alps are also gorgeous, in the land of the Swiss
I put money in the bank, and played with a lock
I saw grass being eaten, by a giant flock
I met a lot of people, and a few friends, I did gain
I used the internet, and tasted Champagne
I saw skaters, and bikers, and people watching the sun
I learned a few things, and had A LOT of fun! !
I saw beauty from man, and from nature, including the Rhein
It was a GREAT trip to Europe, August 1999
poem by Pineapple.... XVI
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Warm And Soothing
Warm and soothing,
That's how I remember home.
Walking into arms
Through the back door.
Hearing voices I know well,
And long for.
Cold and boozy,
Our holiday in the Alps.
Sitting in the lobby,
Mostly smoking.
Choking on the woozy afternoon.
I'm reeling in the music
And I've only had a few.
And I'm afraid
By the way we grow old,
My darling.
Abrupt, too moody,
You making our party list.
I remember sulking
On the sofa.
For most of the winter
We were strangers.
Just one more
To ease the ache,
Before the night takes me.
When you stay asleep
On your side of the bed,
Don't look at me,
Don't look at you...
I'm reeling in the music
And I've only had a few.
And I'm afraid
By the way we grow old,
My darling.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hanibal B.
It was round about the third century B.C.
In Carthage by the sea,
That General Hamilcar Barca's son grew up
By the name of Hanibal B.
And this boy lived with no other thought
Than elephant husbandry.
I was a calf and he was a child,
In Carthage by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was frowned upon by some
I and my Hanibal B.
With such love, that the elephant god Ganesh
Fancied him and me.
And this was the reason that in 218 B.C.
In Saguntum by the sea,
The double-dealing Romans played up, upsetting
My sensitive Hanibal B.
So that his relatives said,
‘For Baal's sake, let the elephants be!
And cross the Alps and sort Rome out
For Carthage by the sea'.
Ganesh, tiring of affairs on the sub-continent,
Trumped up some nasty weather in the Pyrenees-
Yes! - that was why my poor boy came down with a sniffle
And was a bit weepy,
That the soldiers teased him because he was talking through his nose,
Chiding, deriding, saying 'Hanibal, you're so twee! '
But our love was more interesting than the love
Of those who weren't at all twee-
Of many who were ever so twee-
And when push came to shove
No puny punic soldier draftee
Could ever convince me it was droll
To mock loving minorities.
For I, one-tusked Surus, narrating these reams
Of the beautiful Hanibal B.
Say, though we shared many rumbles and sighs,
There was never any bestiality;
And yet all the night-time, I lay by his side
Warming my darling- his skin on my hide,
In the Alps, encamped past treacherous scree,
Inscribed in my heart and my memory.
poem by Diane Hine
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With Your Smile, Meggie
With your smile, I can do anything
I can shout out your name at the mountain
I can dance for you
I can sing for you
I can be with you
I can protect you
The only key of my heart is your smile
Your smile is the key to my heart
It's passionate and loving
I can climb up the Swiss Alps Mountain
I can run and swim from country to country and ocean to ocean if you tell me to
I can do dig the earth
I can swim on the ocean even if it's winter
I can do aything with your smile
Your smile is hot and warm as the sun
Your smile makes me do anything impossible
I will do anything for you as long as you keep your smile
My dearest firend Meggie Gultiano
Smile for me
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXX
'Tis time I stepped from Horeb to the plain.
Mountains, farewell. I need a heavier air.
Youth's memories are not good for souls in pain,
And each new age has its own meed of care.
Farewell, sad Alps, you are my barrier
Now to the North, and hold my passions slain
For all life's vultures, as I downward fare
To a new land of love which is not vain.
How staid is Italy! No gardened rose
Scattering its leaves is chaster than she is.
No cloister stiller, no retreat more close.
There is a tameness even in her seas
On which white towns look down, as who should say,
``Here wise men long have lived, and live to--day.''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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In lands I never saw—they say
124
In lands I never saw—they say
Immortal Alps look down—
Whose Bonnets touch the firmament—
Whose Sandals touch the town—
Meek at whose everlasting feet
A Myriad Daisy play—
Which, Sir, are you and which am I
Upon an August day?
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Llama Express
across the Andean Alps
on bygone empire trails
like vagabonds traversing
on woolen backs and hooves
the dust rises behind them
the wind sweeps their fur
pots and pans, ceramic things
this road train ever moves
poem by Frederick Kesner
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To be seventy years old is like climbing the Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and see behind you the deep valley stretching miles and miles away, and before you other summits higher and whiter, which you may have strength to climb, or may not. Then you sit down and meditate and wonder which it will be.
quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every one knows how the snow lies in the valleys of the Alps, forming a plain which slopes gradually downward towards the outlet Imagine such a valley ten miles across, with just such a sloping plain, not of snow but of earth.
quote by Edward Burnett Tylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Single Identity
Notwithstanding how you view the morn,
Or see the sunrise and the dawn,
Over the high mountain Alps,
Or over the vast blue sea, or desert sand,
The sky shall be and always retain,
Its one single identity!
Notwithstanding how you share your
heart,
Or break it up into many parts,
And share its love with many or few,
Your heart shall be one and the same,
A single heart it shall remain!
No matter how you live this life,
Through your childhood, manhood and
old age,
And live through all its different stage,
Your life shall be one, just the same!
Since only one life is your due,
Live it well and then bid adieu!
Let us then share our lives and our hearts,
As we share the sky with life on earth,
And with mankind let us maintain,
A single identity forever retain!
Going
Breaking it all down.
Just look around.
A life so quaint.
A blotch of paint here and there.
Painting a portrait out of thin air.
Oh where did you come from?
Where are you going?
Without ever really knowing.
Is this really how its gonna be.
So hard to see.
The glassed fogged by a change in temperature.
Heat rising and falling.
Emotions forever turning.
Were just churning the same sickness over and over again.
Oh where did you come from?
Where are you going?
Without ever really knowing.
Walking among the shadows.
A pact with devils.
Toss everything aside.
Take another, take a better ride.
Follow the motion of the oceans tides.
Eventually the chaos will subside.
Then again I will ask,
oh where did you come from?
Where are you going?
Without ever really knowing.
Look at that. It has start snowing.
Water crystallized and compromised.
Green skies.
A bitter wind grabs the skin.
Being ripped within.
I can already see the end.
Every move that can and will be made.
We are destinies slave.
Oh so brave.
But in a jaded sense.
How can it benifit me.
What a diease.
Another sneeze from a life deformity.
Oh where did you come from?
Where are you going?
Without ever really knowing.
Without ever really knowing.
Going, going forever going.
Do you have a map?
Are you bound to a contract?
Is there something you lack?
Just what is it that got you moving in zig zag.
Are you crossing the alps too just to get to other side.
Is it another promise land in which we must all make our stand?
Is it, is it, is it?
Oh where did you come from?
Where are you going?
Without ever really knowing.
Without ever really knowing.
Going, I am going, going, gone.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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