En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Taking Leave of a Friend

Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.

Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.
Our horses neigh to each others
as we are departing.

poem by Ezra Pound
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Taking Leave of a Friend

Blue mountains lie beyond the north wall;
Round the city's eastern side flows the white water.
Here we part, friend, once forever.
You go ten thousand miles, drifting away
Like an unrooted water-grass.
Oh, the floating clouds and the thoughts of a wanderer!
Oh, the sunset and the longing of an old friend!
We ride away from each other, waving our hands,
While our horses neigh softly, softly . . . .

poem by Li Po
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On A Picture Screen

Whence these twelve peaks of Wu-shan!
Have they flown into the gorgeous screen
From heaven's one corner?
Ah, those lonely pines murmuring in the wind!
Those palaces of Yang-tai, hovering yonder—
Oh, the melancholy of it!—
Where the jeweled couch of the king
With brocade covers is desolate,—
His elfin maid voluptuously fair
Still haunting them in vain!

Here a few feet
Seem a thousand miles.
The craggy walls glisten blue and red,
A piece of dazzling embroidery.
How green those distant trees are
Round the river strait of Ching-men!
And those ships——they go on,
Floating on the waters of Pa.
The water sings over the rocks
Between countless hills
Of shining mist and lustrous grass.

How many years since these valley flowers bloomed
To smile in the sun ?
And that man traveling on the river,
Hears he not for ages the monkeys screaming?
Whoever looks on this,
Loses himself in eternity;
And entering the sacred mountains of Sung,
He will dream among the resplendent clouds.

poem by Li Po
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T8

there is a winding river
beside tall mountains
you must know that we have
crossed this river
ten times already

it is the same river
winding through the banks
of these foggy mountains

the tall cogon grasses
can deceive us and so

are the boulders of rocks
that lie along our paths

we are grasping for air
to reach the highest peak of these range

of mountains and valleys and
plains

at the topmost
there we can see the truth and negate

that we can never step twice
on that same river that winds through the hillsides

snake, boa, venomous circuitous foggy paths
damned, we stepped on the same river more than twice

this is the tenth, and this is the highest peak
the world is nothing but a winding snake.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Greasy Grass River

Written by: r. robinson & c. robinson
Now Im swimming in the greasy grass river
On my way to the black pearl sea
Yeah Im floating down the greasy grass river
Come one child come with me
Life is so easy on greasy grass river
Just take my hand and we can pretend to be free
You wanna be
Free
Come on with me
Take me down to the greasy grass river
Wash my hands where the water is clean
Lay me down by the greasy grass river
And unfold my mystery
The greasy grass river has water that whispers
Lets listen closely while
She says she wants to be free
You wanna be
Free
You know what I mean?
Outro:
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind

song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miles and miles of here and there

MILES and miles of here and there
Our eager river forced its way,
Bent to be it knew not where.

It had no rest in delay;
And for its haste it had no aim;
Wherefore go? But wherefore stay?

Here and there led both the same;
By any winding it could make
Near its secret goal it came.

When it reached the crystal lake
It knew its aim and found its rest;
All the miles were for love's sake.

Mid the blue hills of the west
Our river lies in the lake's breast.

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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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.

poem by Li Po
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Rwanda 1994

The Kagera River rises in Burundi blue
It sweeps down from the highlands green.

But then why the river runs red?
Why does it look so sinister?

It hauls the bodies of the dead
Its currents carry your sister.

The Kagera River rises in Burundi green
It flows wild to Lake Victoria blue.

But then why the river runs red?
There is no change in the weather.

Yet on the waters float the dead
The currents carry your father.

The Kagera River rises in Burundi white
It drags trees and elephant grass green.

But then why the river runs red?
The day sunny like another.

Yet the streams tow and haul the dead
The currents carry your brother.

The Kagera River rises in Burundi blue
It flows through Rwandan gorges green.

But then why the river runs red?
Why does the village camp smother?

It hauls the corpses of the dead
The currents carry your mother.

poem by Paul Hartal
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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
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Your Smile... Ill Walk A Thousand Miles...

If only you would smile for a little while…
I’ll walk a thousand miles..
Just to see your smile…

I’ll do anything to make you smile just for a while…
Will you smile? ? ?
When your feeling blue…
Give me a clue…

When I see your smile… it reaches inside me for a thousand miles…
When I feel like there’s a thousand knifes inside…
I just remember your smile…
It can mend a thousand times…
Walking a thousand miles just to see you smile
Is soo worth my wild…
Your smile is not wild…
It’s so mild…

Your smile is soo free…
Its easy to see…
Makes my day worthwhile…
Smile for a while…
Hearts will get near…
Words will be dear…

Your smile melts an angry heart…
Such a gentle smile…
Soo just remember to smile…
And ill come from a thousand miles…

By: Tou Yang

poem by Tou Yang
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Aqueous Transmission

Im floating down a river
Oars freed from
Their homes long ago
Lying face up on the floor
Of my vessel
I marvel at the stars
And feel my heart overflow
Further down the river
Two weeks without my lover
Im in this boat alone
Floating down a river
Named emotion
Will I make it back to shore?
Or drift into the unknown
Further down the river
Im building an antenna
Transmissions will be sent
When I am through
Maybe we can meet again
Further down the river
And share what
We both discovered
Then revel in the view
Further down the river
Im floating down a river

song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winding Roads

the white innova runs
for hours on this winding road
climbing mountains
we see the green forest
beside us
we are on rocky cliffs
we see the rivers wind
down the mountains
we are inside this silence
awed
overlooking the world
somehow this break
shall make us ponder
how we wasted time
on some nooks
of depression
and unnecessary worries
about tomorrow

the winding roads
still climb up this mountain
we look back seeing
the same winding roads

you say
there is no use going back
we look forward
the thrill up there
we do not discount
there is a valley somewhere
where we soon stop
and relax

then we shall talk
about this life
about these winding roads
that seem endless
to our gazes

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunset Over The Mountains

Sunset over the mountains
on this dreamy cool summer
night.

Golden, red and orange
colors God has painted
over you.

Many miles away from
where I stand,
there nature is at
home and so free.

Painting such a picture
as our God has given
His hand print on
His creatures who

live in the mountains
so pure and carefree
on this beautiful
evening.

As I say goodbye
to the sunset and
go in the house
to store this memory
in my mind.

wrote 8-27-08

poem by James Foulk
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Pink Clouds Never Rain

I have never see a pink cloud rain before.
I have only seen a magenta bolt of lightening try to strike my heart, and
Aqua tears trickling from my dazzled misty eyes, down my
Flushed and lonesome cheek, though
I have never see a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.
I have seen spotted purple snakes crawling up my bedroom walls, and
Transparent bubbles filled with dreams floating before my very eyes, though,
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, though
I have seen a reddish sun cast shadows down upon a tortuous, rippling river;
I have seen tears cascading down a sloping hill, and
Gulls flapping their gentle, feathered wings atop some cragged cliffs, although
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have heard eerie and commanding thoughts and voices
That no one else could hear.
I have had disturbing, stabbing thoughts that have injured me inside, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although
I have slid down an icy mountainside on a very sunny night.
I have wept a sea of deep blue and purple tears, though
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before.

I have never heard thunder clap behind a rosy cloud, or seen
Tears fall from heaven or have heard angels singing.
I have had morbid thoughts of loss, death and suicide,
While thunder clapped, and
These pink clouds could not rain.

Perhaps someday I shall see a pink cloud rain upon a
Magnificent world, which I have created for myself,
Where tall green and golden reeds are surrounded by swirling water pools, and
A hallucinogenic sun sets behind high and mighty mountains-
And there, people would be trustworthy and true to heart.

No, I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, although,
I have seen almost everything there is to see-
Some good sights and some bad-
I have heard some screaming voices echo in my mind, although,
Some quiet ones as well.
I have seen some orange and, pinkish sunsets, and mirages in
The fortress of my own mind, however-
I have never seen a pink cloud rain before, and
I have never seen a pink cloud weep before….

Claudia Krizay

poem by Claudia Krizay
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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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Afternoon Musings 5

i am sorry darling
i am a ten or more thousand miles away from you

i am sorry darling
i could have given you a little love from my heart

but you are also twenty or more thousand miles away from me
i am indeed sorry my darling

all you know is just this distancing away from everybody
and i am learning a little of your game

point A running away from point B
not to make a bridge but just this long, long, long line

of separation, a debunking demarcation away from the land
to the sea and to the other sea

you never imagine that in doing so
from one far end to another end you finally form a circle

finding me and everyone inside you
don't ask me but the world is still round

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Grass Is Blue

i've had to think of a way to survive since you said it's over told me good-bye
i just can't make it one day without you unless i pretend that the opposites true
rivers flow backwards
valleys are high
mountains are level
truth is a lie
i'm perflectly fine
and i don't miss you
the sky is green and the grass is blue
(break)
how much can a heart and a troubled mind take
where is that fine line before it all breaks
can one end their sorrow just cross over it
and into that relm of instantive bliss
there's snow in the tropics
there's ice on the sun
it's hot in the Artic
and crying is fun
and i'm alright now and i'm over you
and the sky is green
and the grass is blue
and the rivers flow backwards and my tears are dry
swans hate the water and eagles can't fly
but i'm alright now that i'm over you
and the sky is green and the grass is blue
and i don't love you and the grass is blue

song performed by by Norah Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Notes Of Sendong

so most of them are confessions,
like rain confessing to the grass in the sound of
a heavy rainfall
and in so doing, because it did not know how to stop
has caused the mountains to vomit
and the rivers to rise because they too are crying
and letting go the tears of creeks and ponds
and sobbing like ten waterfalls and raging like the sounds of
rocks and mud letting go of their hidden sorrows

and so why are there so many dead floating in the river and covered
by logs and mud?

the rains have confessed about the death of trees
and corruption of the winds
and then the names of men come out
they are the causes of all these sufferings
the innocent residents of the river banks are
the ultimate victims

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Grass Is Blue

Ive had to think up a way to survive
Since you said its over
Told me good-bye
I just cant make it one day without you
Unless I pretend that the opposites true
Rivers flow backwards
Valleys are high
Mountains are level
Truth is a lie
Im perfectly fine
And I dont miss you
The sky is green
And the grass is blue
How much can a heart and a troubled mind take
Where is that fine line before it all breaks
Can one end their sorrow
Just cross over it
And into that realm of insanitive bliss
Theres snow in the tropics
Theres ice on the sun
Its hot in the arctic
And crying is fun
And Im happy now
And Im glad were through
And the sky is green
And the grass is blue
And the rivers flow backwards
And my tears are dry
Swans hate the water
And eagles cant fly
But Im alright now
Now that Im over you
And the sky is green
And the grass is blue
And I dont love you
And the grass is blue

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Final Painting

The white cloud passed over the land
there is sea always round the land
the sky is blue always above the cloud
the cloud in the blue continues to move
- nothing is limited by the canvas or frame -
the white cloud can be pictured like any
other clouds or like a fist of wool
or a white fur rose
The white cloud passes a shadow across
the landscape and so there is a passing greyness
The grey and the white both envelop
the watcher until he too is drawn into the picture
It is all a journey from a room through a door
down stairs and out into the street
The cloud could possess the house
The watchers have a mutual confidence
with the approaching string of white clouds
It is beyond spoken words what they are
silently mouthing to the sky
There was no mystery in this - only the firm
outline of people in overcoats on a hillside
and the line of clouds above them
The sky is blue The cloud white with touches
of grey - the rest - the landscape below -
can be left to the imagination
The whole painting quietly dissolved itself
into its surrounding clouds

poem by Lee Harwood
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And... The River Runs Through It

Those sweet memories still linger in my mind
The chain of mountains, The birds singing their song,
The outspread meadows...
And the river that runs through it!

I still see us walking along the river bank holding each other's hand.
And as we lie down on the grass, Interlocked in arms, looking at the sky,
The rock sings for us, a melodious song,
As the river runs through it!

I still go there
Sometimes in dreams and sometimes in real.
The birds are still singing and the rock still sings.
Everything is unchanged except the fact that
You are nowhere to be seen.
You have crossed over to the other side of the river,
The outstretched field of heaven!
And as I sit on the grass, sorrow grips my mind
And... The river runs through it!

poem by Arti Honrao
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