Poem By The Bridge At Ten-Shin
March has come to the bridge head,
Peach boughs and apricot boughs hang over a thousand
gates,
At morning there are flowers to cut the heart,
And evening drives them on the eastward-flowing
waters.
Petals are on the gone waters and on the going,
And on the back-swirling eddies,
But to-day's men are not the men of the old days,
Though they hang in the same way over the bridge-rail.
The sea's colour moves at the dawn
And the princes still stand in rows, about the throne,
And the moon falls over the portals of Sei-go-yo,
And clings to the walls and the gate-top.
With head gear glittering against the cloud and sun,
The lords go forth from the court, and into far borders.
They ride upon dragon-like horses,
Upon horses with head-trappings of yellow metal,
And the streets make way for their passage.
Haughty their passing,
Haughty their steps as they go in to great banquets,
To high halls and curious food,
To the perfumed air and girls dancing,
To clear flutes and clear singing;
To the dance of the seventy couples;
To the mad chase through the gardens.
Night and day are given over to pleasure
And they think it will last a thousand autumns,
Unwearying autumns.
For them the yellow dogs howl portents in vain,
And what are they compared to the lady Riokushu,
That was cause of hate!
Who among them is a man like Han-rei
Who departed alone with his mistress,
With her hair unbound, and he his own skiffsman!
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River Song
This boat is of shato-wood, and its gunwales are cut
magnolia,
Musicians with jewelled flutes and with pipes of gold
Fill full the sides in rows, and our wine
Is rich for a thousand cups.
We carry singing girls, drift with the drifting water,
Yet Sennin needs
A yellow stork for a charger, and all our seamen
Would follow the white gulls or ride them.
Kutsu's prose song
Hangs with the sun and moon.
King So's terraced palace
is now but barren hill,
But I draw pen on this barge
Causing the five peaks to tremble,
And I have joy in these words
like the joy of blue islands.
(If glory could last forever
Then the waters of Han would flow northward.)
And I have moped in the Emperor's garden, awaiting an
order-to-write !
I looked at the dragon-pond, with its willow-coloured
water
Just reflecting the sky's tinge,
And heard the five-score nightingales aimlessly singing.
The eastern wind brings the green colour into the island
grasses at Yei-shu,
The purple house and the crimson are full of Spring
softness.
South of the pond the willow-tips are half-blue and
bluer,
Their cords tangle in mist, against the brocade-like
palace.
Vine-strings a hundred feet long hang down from
carved railings,
And high over the willows, the fine birds sing to each
other, and listen,
Crying—‘Kwan, Kuan,' for the early wind, and the feel
of it.
The wind bundles itself into a bluish cloud and wanders
off.
Over a thousand gates, over a thousand doors are the
sounds of spring singing,
And the Emperor is at Ko.
Five clouds hang aloft, bright on the purple sky,
The imperial guards come forth from the golden house
with their armour a-gleaming.
The Emperor in his jewelled car goes out to inspect his
flowers,
He goes out to Hori, to look at the wing-flapping storks,
He returns by way of Sei rock, to hear the new
nightingales,
For the gardens at Jo-run are full of new nightingales,
Their sound is mixed in this flute,
Their voice is in the twelve pipes here.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Exile’s Letter
(To Yüan)
Remember how Tung built us a place to drink in
At Lo-yang south of the T’ien-ching bridge?
White jade and gold bought songs and laughter.
We drank forgetting Court and princes.
Those amongst us, wisest and bravest
On all this side of rivers and oceans,
Hearts high as clouds, and you and I together,
Cared nothing at crossing lakes and mountains
Only to share our thoughts and feelings.
Then I went out south-east to cut the laurel,
You north of Lo River still lost in dreams.
No joy in being parted. Soon back again in mountains,
Tracking the thirty-six twists and turns of valley,
By the streams bright with a thousand flowers,
By endless waters,
Hearing pine-trees sighing,
Till we met the Hang-tung Governor
On a gold and silver saddle,
And Hu the True-Taoist drew us with his pipe playing,
Making unearthly music out of the high tower,
Strange sounds of the mating phoenix.
The Governor’s sleeves kept time to the music,
So that he rose, drunk, and danced a little,
Brought his brocade coat, covered my body.
I fell asleep, head resting in his lap.
By day our hearts rose to the nine heavens.
At evening we scattered like blown stars or rain,
I to my far mountain over hills and waters,
You to your own house by the bridge of Wei.
That winter I made your father’s North City,
Loved you for the way you did me honour,
Sharing your wealth, thinking nothing of it.
Wine there - in cups of amber,
Food there - on plates of jade.
I ate and drank, no thoughts of returning.
We went out to the west. The river parts there,
Round the ancient shrine of a Prince of Chou.
Boats on the waters to drums and piping.
Waves made of dragon scales. Jade-green rushes.
We drank and drank, lived the passing moments,
Forgetting how they go like blossoms or snowfall.
Flushed with wine, warm in glow of sunset,
The hundred-foot deep pool mirroring bright faces,
Dancing-girls delicate as willows in the moonlight,
Notes lost in the silken sleeves’ fluttering.
A white breeze blew their song to the sky,
Winding through the air, twisting in the cloud-lanes.
Never again. Never again such joy.
I went west but got no promotion.
White-headed back to eastern hills.
Met once more south of Wei’s bridge.
Parted again north of Tso’s terrace.
And if you ask my feelings at parting,
They were inside me like Spring flowers falling.
No way to say what’s in the heart. Never.
I call in the boy. Have him kneel here, tie this,
To send my feelings through a thousand miles.
Exile’s Letter
To So-Kin of Rakuyo, ancient friend, Chancellor of
Gen.
Now I remember that you built me a special tavern
By the south side of the bridge at Ten-Shin.
With yellow gold and white jewels, we paid for songs
and laughter
And we were drunk for month on month, forgetting the
kings and princes.
Intelligent men came drifting in from the sea and from
the west border,
And with them, and with you especially
There was nothing at cross purpose,
And they made nothing of sea-crossing or of mountain-
crossing,
If only they could be of that fellowship,
And we all spoke out our hearts and minds, and without
regret.
And when I was sent off to South Wei,
smothered in laurel groves,
And you to the north of Raku-hoku,
Till we had nothing but thoughts and memories in
common.
And then, when separation had come to its worst,
We met, and travelled into Sen-Go,
Through all the thirty-six folds of the turning and
twisting waters,
Into a valley of the thousand bright flowers,
That was the first valley;
And into ten thousand valleys full of voices and pine-
winds.
And with silver harness and reins of gold,
Out came the East of Kan foreman and his company.
And there came also the ‘True man’ of Shi-yo to meet
me,
Playing on a jewelled mouth-organ.
In the storied houses of San-Ko they gave us more
Sennin music,
Many instruments, like the sound of young phoenix
broods.
The foreman of Kan Chu, drunk, danced
because his long sleeves wouldn't keep still
With that music playing,
And I, wrapped in brocade, went to sleep with my
head on his lap,
And my spirit so high it was all over the heavens,
And before the end of the day we were scattered like
stars, or rain.
I had to be off to So, far away over the waters,
You back to your river-bridge.
And your father, who was brave as a leopard,
Was governor in Hei Shu, and put down the barbarian
rabble.
And one May he had you send for me,
despite the long distance.
And what with broken wheels and so on, I won't say it
wasn't hard going,
Over roads twisted like sheep's guts.
And I was still going, late in the year,
in the cutting wind from the North,
And thinking how little you cared for the cost,
and you caring enough to pay it.
And what a reception:
Red jade cups, food well set on a blue jewelled table,
And I was drunk, and had no thought of returning.
And you would walk out with me to the western corner
of the castle,
To the dynastic temple, with water about it clear as
blue jade,
With boats floating, and the sound of mouth-organs and
drums,
With ripples like dragon-scales, going grass green on the
water,
Pleasure lasting, with courtezans, going and coming
without hindrance,
With the willow flakes falling like snow,
And the vermilioned girls getting drunk about sunset,
And the water, a hundred feet deep, reflecting green
eyebrows
Eyebrows painted green are a fine sight in young
moonlight,
Gracefully painted
And the girls singing back at each other,
Dancing in transparent brocade,
And the wind lifting the song, and interrupting it,
Tossing it up under the clouds.
And all this comes to an end.
And is not again to be met with.
I went up to the court for examination,
Tried Layu's luck, offered the Choyo song,
And got no promotion,
and went back to the East Mountains
White-headed.
And once again, later, we met at the South bridge-head.
And then the crowd broke up, you went north to San
palace,
And if you ask how I regret that parting:
It is like the flowers falling at Spring's end
Confused, whirled in a tangle.
What is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
There is no end of things in the heart.
I call in the boy,
Have him sit on his knees here
To seal this,
And send it a thousand miles, thinking.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River-Merchant's Wife
While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.
You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
And we went on living in the village of Chokan:
Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.
At fourteen I married My Lord you.
I never laughed, being bashful.
Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.
Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.
At fifteen I stopped scowling,
I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
Forever and forever and forever.
Why should I climb the look out?
At sixteen you departed,
You went into far Ku-to-en, by the river of swirling eddies,
And you have been gone five months.
The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.
You dragged your feet when you went out.
By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,
Too deep to clear them away!
The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden;
They hurt me. I grow older.
If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you
As far as Cho-fu-Sa.
Miracle Goodnight
Burning up each others love, burning up our lives
Tried all kinds of working out, miracle goodnight
Future full and empty knocking on my door
Ragged limbed and hungry mama
Miracle no more
(skin tell me) turn it around
(head tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing)
Morning star youre beautiful, yellow dime on high
Spins around my little room, miracle goodnight
Even flower all alone, pazanane capeche
Havent got a death wish, just want a little more
(skin tell me) turn it around
(head tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) miracle goodnight
(breath tell me) turn it around
(heart tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) it was only make believe
I wish there was a sailor a thousand miles from here
I wished I had a future, anywhere
I love you in the morning sun, I love you in my dreams
I love the sound of making love, the feeling of your skin
The corner of your eyes, I long forevermore
I never want to say goodnight, miracle goodnight
(skin tell me) turn it around
(head tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) miracle goodnight
(breath tell me) turn it around
(heart tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) it was only make believe
Dont want to know the past, I want to know the real deal
I really dont want to know that
The less we know, the better we feel
Morning star youre beautiful, yellow diamond high
Spinning around my little room, miracle
(skin tell me) turn it around
(head tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) miracle goodnight
(breath tell me) turn it around
(heart tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) it was only make believe
(skin tell me) turn it around
(moon tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) it was only make believe
(eyes tell me)
(judes tell me) nobody dancing
(nobody dancing) miracle
(skin tell me) tonight
(head tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) nobody dancing
(breath tell me) turn it around
(heart tell me) make it alright
(nobody dancing) it was only make believe
(skin tell me) turn it around
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter
After Li Po
While my hair was still cut straight
across my forehead
I played at the front gate, pulling
flowers.
You came by on bamboo stilts, playing
horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with
blue plums.
And we went on living in the village of
Chokan:
Two small people, without dislike or
suspicion.
At fourteen I married My Lord you.
I never laughed, being bashful.
Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.
Called to, a thousand times, I never
looked back.
At fifteen I stopped scowling,
I desired my dust to be mingled with
yours
Forever and forever and forever.
Why should I climb the lookout?
At sixteen you departed,
You went into far Ku-to-en, by the river
of swirling eddies,
And you have been gone five months.
The monkeys make sorrowful noise
overhead.
You dragged your feet when you went
out,
By the gate now, the moss is grown,
the different mosses,
Too deep to clear them away!
The leaves fall early this autumn, in
wind.
The paired butterflies are already
yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden;
They hurt me. I grow older.
If you are coming down through the
narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you
As far as Cho-fu-sa.
Translated by Ezra Pound
Anonymous submission.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bridge Over Troubled Waters
When You're Weary Feelin' Small
When Tears Are In Your Eyes I Will Dry Them All
I'm On Your Side Oh When Times Get Rough
And Friends Just Can't Be Found
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Lay Me Down
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Lay Me Down
When You're Down And Out When You're On The Street
When Evening Falls So Hard I Will Comfort You
I'll Take Your Part Oh When Darkness Comes
And Pain Is All Around
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Lay Me Down
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Lay Me Down
Sail On Children Sail On By
Your Time Has Come To Shine All Their Dreams Are On Their Way
See How They Shine Oh When You Need A Friend
I'm Sailing Right Behind
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Ease Your Mind
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Ease Your Mind
I'll Ease Your Mind
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes from You Light Up My Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long Way Home
J. spinks, r. difonzo
I drive these streets alone in silence
Another ride trying to clear my head
But all I hear is just the beat of my heart
I think of her but I see you instead
(chorus)
And theres a thousand little lies
A thousand little reasons
For me to stay - for me to go
And theres a thousand little voices
Inside my head saying
Take the long way home
I tell myself that its all over
But then I see you and I just dont know
What should I listen to my heart or my mind
Too tired to think about the way I should go
(chorus)
Theres no one out there when you need to decide
And youre on your own
You keep on thinking bout the wrong that youve done
You try to hide but theres no place to run
(chorus)
song performed by by Outfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chagrin
Caught still as Absalom,
Surely the air hangs
From the swayless cloud-boughs
Like hair of Absalom
Caught and hanging still.
From the imagined weight
Of spaces in a sky
Of mute chagrin my thoughts
Hang like branch-clung hair
To trunks of silence swung,
With the choked soul weighing down
Into thick emptiness.
Christ, end this hanging death,
For endlessness hangs therefrom !
Invisibly branches break
From invisible trees:
The cloud-woods where we rush
(Our eyes holding so much),
Which we must ride dim ages round
Ere the hands (we dream) can touch,
We ride, we ride-before the morning
The secret roots of the sun to tread-
And suddenly
We are lifted of all we know,
And hang from implacable boughs.
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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Home Is Anywhere You Hang Your Head
Here comes Mr. Misery
He's tearing out his hair again
He's crying over her again
He's standing in the super-market shouting at the customers
Here comes Mr. Misery
He'll never be any good with a mouth full of gold and blood
He's contemplating murder again
He must be in love
Chorus: But you know she doesn't want
But you can't seem to get it in your head
Oh and you can't sleep at night
And she haunts you when you go to bed
When you're tired of talking and you can't drink it down
So you hang around and drown instead
Home isn't where it used to be
Home is anywhere you hang your head
You hang your head
Home is anywhere
You hang your head
Home is anywhere
You hang your head
Home is anywhere you hang your head
Here comes Mr. Misery
Looking for a place for his mouth to shoot
Saying "You'd look cute in your birthday suit"
You tore him out and screwed him up
Like a bad page in a naughty picture book
They day ended as it began
As he was seconds older than the man he was this morning
And the world has wiped it's mouth since then
Or maybe it was yawning
Chorus
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Is Anywhere
Here comes mr. misery
Hes tearing out his hair again
Hes crying over her again
Hes standing in the super-market shouting at the customers
Here comes mr. misery
Hell never be any good with a mouth full of gold and blood
Hes contemplating murder again
He must be in love
Chorus: but you know she doesnt want
But you cant seem to get it in your head
Oh and you cant sleep at night
And she haunts you when you go to bed
When youre tired of talking and you cant drink it down
So you hang around and drown instead
Home isnt where it used to be
Home is anywhere you hang your head
You hang your head
Home is anywhere
You hang your head
Home is anywhere
You hang your head
Home is anywhere you hang your head
Here comes mr. misery
Looking for a place for his mouth to shoot
Saying youd look cute in your birthday suit
You tore him out and screwed him up
Like a bad page in a naughty picture book
They day ended as it began
As he was seconds older than the man he was this morning
And the world has wiped its mouth since then
Or maybe it was yawning
Chorus
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Idea Of Choan By Rosoriu
I
The narrow streets cut into the wide highway at Choan,
Dark oxen, white horses,
drag on the seven coaches with outriders.
The coaches are perfumed wood,
The jewelled chair is held up at the crossway,
Before the royal lodge:
A glitter of golden saddles, awaiting the princess;
They eddy before the gate of the barons.
The canopy embroidered with dragons
drinks in and casts back the sun.
Evening comes.
The trappings are bordered with mist.
The hundred cords of mist are spread through
and double the trees,
Night birds, and night women,
Spread out their sounds through the gardens.
II
Birds with flowery wing, hovering butterflies
crowd over the thousand gates,
Trees that glitter like jade,
terraces tinged with silver,
The seed of a myriad hues,
A net-work of arbours and passages and covered ways,
Double towers, winged roofs,
border the net-work of ways:
A place of felicitous meeting.
Riu's house stands out on the sky,
with glitter of colour
As Butei of Kan had made the high golden lotus
to gather his dews,
Before it another house which I do not know:
How shall we know all the friends
whom we meet on strange roadways?
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Porcelain Pavilion
Amidst the waters of a man-made lake,
A porcelain pavilion rises high.
The way to it is lead by jasper bridge
That’s cambered like a tiger’s back.
And that pavilion houses friends tonight,
They are attired for the holidays;
The dragon patterns on their chalices,
They glitter with the warmed-up wine.
Friends turn from chatting their happy chats
To jotting down their happy songs;
They push off foreheads their yellow hats,
And roll up their yellow sleeves.
Transparent lake reflects so clearly
The bridge curved in as if the jasper moon,
And friends who gathered at this hour
See their reflections upside down.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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Tom Dooley
Hang your head, hang your head, Tom Dooley hang your head and cry
Killed poor Laura Foster, you know you're bound to die
Bury her on the hillside, make the people see
Put the coat over, tromp her with your feet
Hang your head Tom Dooley, hang your head and cry
Killed poor Laura Foster, don't you know your bound to die
Bury her on the hillside with other people's lives
Hang your head Tom Dooley, hang your head and cry
Killed poor Laurea Foster, don't you know you're bound to die
First time I went courting, pretty brave of me
Just to sing from her old oak tree
Hang your mama with kindness blame it on this morning
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forest Bedroom
Secure in your heated arms...
Protected from Falls plantiff chill...
Aglow in the pleasure of your face--
Flushed as the burnished leaves upon Autumns hill;
Our bed is of russet and gold--
Natures humble crinkled spread---
Encompassed by semi-balding trees...
Autumns euphoria fills my head;
The winds brisk as in this bliss i feel with you...
The colours of our love-bonfire glow...
Safe and ecstatic in Falls loving embrace...
Two hearts beat dancing-in sweet love-they grow;
September 29,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Ride The Storm
Thunder roads in action
Horizons all the same
Thats the big attraction
Come on join the game
Brothers out of time
n chasing down the line
Mighty eagles rage into the sky
Ride the storm - now and tomorrow
Faster and so far
Ride the storm - no hidden sorrows
n aiming for the stars
The colour blacks for leather
Metal engines howl
n ride the storm together
Tailpipes gonna growl
Bridge
Chorus
We ride the iron horses
n freedom in the heart
We never will surrender
We are the breed apart
Chorus
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Queen Of The Air
There is a dream I used to have
My dream swallowed me whole
There is a bridge where I hate to go
That is where I first saw her
High on the bridge
I seen her red hair shining
There is a girl- I never knew
She was my aunt virginia
They said that she-
She just disappeared
They said I look just like her
High on the bridge I seen her
Dancing, waving to me there
She smiled and raised her head
Then she took to the air
There is a dream I cant escape
My memories come back to me
There is a hell I cant escape
My memories come back to me
I heard the truth about it
Pictures and headlines hidden away
I heard the truth about my real mom
Jumping from the bridge that day
Now I know why ever since
I was 3 years old
Been having the same nightmare
Now I know the truth about virginia
Why she took to the air
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Days
Issuing from the Word
The seven days came,
Each in its own place,
Its own name.
And the first long days
A hard and rocky spring,
Inhuman burgeoning,
And nothing there for claw or hand,
Vast loneliness ere loneliness began,
Where the blank seasons in their journeying
Saw water at play with water and sand with sand.
The waters stirred
And from the doors were cast
Wild lights and shadows on the formless face
Of the flood of chaos, vast
Lengthening and dwindling image of earth and heaven.
The forest's green shadow
Softly over the water driven,
As if the earth's green wonder, endless meadow
Floated and sank within its own green light.
In water and night
Sudden appeared the lion's violent head,
Raging and burning in its watery cave.
The stallion's tread
Soundless fell on the flood, and the animals poured
Onward, flowing across the flowing wave.
Then on the waters fell
The shadow of man, and earth and the heavens scrawled
With names, as if each pebble and leaf would tell
The tale untellable. And the Lord called
The seventh day forth and the glory of the Lord.
And now we see in the sun
The mountains standing clear in the third day
(Where they shall always stay)
And thence a river run,
Threading, clear cord of water, all to all:
The wooded hill and the cattle in the meadow,
The tall wave breaking on the high sea-wall,
The people at evening walking,
The crescent shadow
Of the light built bridge, the hunter stalking
The flying quarry, each in a different morning,
The fish in the billow's heart, the man with the net,
The hungry swords crossed in the cross of warning,
The lion set
High on the banner, leaping into the sky,
The seasons playing
Their game of sun and moon and east and west,
The animal watching man and bird go by,
The women praying
For the passing of this fragmentary day
Into the day where all are gathered together,
Things and their names, in the storm's and the lightning's nest,
The seventh great day and the clear eternal weather.
poem by Edwin Muir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rainbow
I'm here to shed light on your day
We're not having any black or grey,
Ride the rainbow high and low
Spread the colour wherever you go.
From the rainbows seven colours true
Painting the sky with dazzling hue,
Red, orange, yellow, green,
Blue, indigo and violet seen.
In every life there's a rainbow
With nothing but the world below,
It has no gate, it has no door
It arches like a bridge from shore to shore.
Each individual colour is so clear
Which never ceases to bring cheer
Way, way up in the sky
And we really do not know why.
©Hazel 2012
poem by Hazel Connelly
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The Mirabeau bridge
Under the Mirabeau bridge flows the Seine
And all our loves
Why does it make so plain
That any joy must always follow pain
Let the night come the hour sound clear
The days all pass I’m still here
Our hands intertwined let’s stay face to face
While far below
The bridge of our arms strays
The languid wave of each endless gaze
Let the night come the hour sound clear
The days all pass I’m still here
Our love drifts away like these waters flow
Love drifts away
And our lives are so slow
With Hope more violent than we could know
Let the night come the hour sound clear
The days all pass I’m still here.
The days and weeks pass in a ceaseless train
But no past time
Or past love comes again
Under the Mirabeau bridge flows the Seine
Let the night come the hour sound clear
The days all pass I’m still here.
poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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