Related quotes: Foxes and wolfs wanders In...

Foxes and wolfs

Foxes and wolfs wanders
In dense forest
No moon no sun
The ages of history
Being turned.

Playing of light shadow
Continued under the tree
The tree keep me free
And I live
Water and air there
And I being
Transparent dissolved.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Related quotes

Dreamy densed forest

Where am I
Foxes wolfs
Wanders in this
Dreamy densed forest.

No sun no moon
Enter and I
Assaulted day night
Turning pages of history
Not read by anybody.

Light shadow
Played in brief.
I insearch of that tree
That keep me free
Assured me alive.

Nothing but water
And air flowing
And I dissolved
claiming transparent.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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A White Architect Of Light

8.8.88: She came back from the land of democrative destiny and dissolved
into the chaotic void.
Fighting for the freedom of reality
Building the light house in the darkest hours of life
Fixing up the spiritual essence through the existential nothingness
in the valueless zone

Layers by layers, realities of life theatre are turned into distilled light
out of trapped reflections

Mother of modern Myanmar honoured by consciencious tree of life
Curving away all the unnecessary parts
Curving away all the necessary parts
Communication revolution of the 21 st century
Aung San Su Kyi, The White Architect Of Light
Light's shadow is light
Light's shadow is light
Light's shadow is light

Aung San Su Kyi, The White Architect Of Light
Light's shadow is light
Light's shadow is light
Light's shadow is light

poem by Nyein Way
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Carry me on

Carry me on to the forest whose face is
aglow in light.
I put down golden words
in the raptness of lovely green
with pure conviction I see the reflection of every
standing tree on wild streams

Carry me on to the forest with a
moonlight-rinsed face, to the cootage of peace
where every moment is enriched by sweet
chirping of birds
I place the footprints of murderous men
on every humble tree

Carry me on to the depth of dense forests
I plant one tall tree of love-laden heart
on the flowing breast of every travelling river
I tear off fruitless human blandishings

Carry me on to the eternal free forest,
to the erect trees growing in a slope
I look for pollens of every season in
every tree which donot know how to stoop down
I sculpture on every tree symbols of
futile human pride

Carry me on.

Translated from the Assamese by Pradip Khataniar

poem by Prem Narayan Nath
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Under The Laburnum Tree

(A simple tale)

Under the Laburnum tree
She saw his gentle face
Under the Laburnum tree
She knew their first embrace

Under the Laburnum tree
She gave to him her love
Under the Laburnum tree
Beneath the stars above

Under the Laburnum tree
He left her there to cry
Under the Laburnum tree
That`s where she chose to die

(Under the Laburnum tree
Were scattered all its seeds
Under the Laburnum tree
Amongst the growing weeds)

Under the Laburnum tree
The moon was shining bright
Under the Laburnum tree
Her silv`ry soul took flight

Under the Laburnum tree
At last she was set free
Under the Laburnum tree
She found eternity

poem by Valerie Dohren
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The Strange Tree

There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
And this strange tree could not agree,
That if this tree could ever see,
A stranger tree it sure would be.

There’s a strange tree which topples me,
For this strange tree was tall, you see,
And then this tree would use its knee,
To break in three, the clouds who flee.

There’s a strange tree which lives near me,
The northern tree, its branches free,
The southern tree, no limb to see,
For this strange tree, was strange, you see?

There’s a strange tree which I can see,
And this strange tree (against my plea)
Was sent to sea, its roots now free,
And now this tree… A ship is he.

End.

poem by Daegal
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I'am A Shadow Under The Tree...

I was, I'am and I would never be free
I'am just a shadow under the tree..

I don't have arms and i don't have legs
but the sun makes me move so I don't need to beg..

still I'am a handicap for no reason
coz the mighty god made some seasons..

Oh look! here's a cute couple under my arms,
sitting, kissing and looking at the sky
but why can't they see I'am feeling so shy..

hours, days and months they came
now i understood there is nothing to shame!
It's now daily routine i wait for them, but one sad day i found none of them..

I asked my parent tree..father! where have they gone?
he replied..its okk...it happens..dere is nothing to mourn..
ages gone..
I have gone for a long sleep under the snow
carrying in my heart a deep sorrow..

But one nice morning i was woken up by someone touching my toe
Oh my! it's the ray of sun saying..wake up kid...its time to glow!

I opened my eyes..
but how can i believe..i'am so surprise.

the cute couple is here again
but i can't see dem very clear..coz its hard to retain

he shouted....'dave'...'henry'
go play under the tree..
then all of a sudden i realized...
.
.
.I was, I'am and I would never be free
coz.
' I'AM JUST A SHADOW UNDER THE TREE '

poem by Ankiit Tohan
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Fantasy...

A tree and its shadow
And a dreamy meadow
Waiting for someone....

The Shadow asks ' how is she doing? '
Tree whispers ' shhh! sleeping'
'oops! sorry' says shadow and waits
waiting...they are for the flower that sleeps
on a thin green brunch of the tree
The tree, now drowsy, as sun
Readies itself to set, for the night
and the little shadow? it grows unwatched
With the dimming light

The Tree sleeps,
The meadow sleeps
Huts sleep
and the man inside it
Is in slumber too
Tiny little shadow grows into night
Embraces life with darkness punctured with lights

Dawn Awakes
Sun rays come running back to the tree
Tree asks 'my shadow? where IS he? '
the Tallest palm tree, sky abreast
says 'i think I saw him running northwest! '

The Shadow creeps in and stands upon a pebble
Says ' i wana see...i wana see! ' with boyish charm

Then The flower finally falls
Into shadow's lap
'shh! she's still taking a nap! '
says tree to his friend

Wind blows, it wants to play with her
The sleeping beauty, The flower
'Look! Look! ...she's smiling!
She's happy! she must be dreaming! '
The shadow hushes, excited!

A girl comes out of the hut...
Takes the flower, the sweet, from Shadows lap
What will you do with her, little girl?
She's taking a nap! '

'I'll play with it', the little girl says
The Shadow starts crying
The tree wishpers...
' dont cry dear...let it be...
Tommorrow morning You'll see
Our flower is back with us
On your lap she's lying!

Night comes again
Tree and its shadow sleeps
with Dreamy smiles on their lips

Dawn brings light to the tree and shadow
They wake up and see
Adorned with Dew drops like some rare gems
Their Sweet little flower is back with them!

poem by Saurabh Som
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A Tree To Me

A Tree to Me
Once there was tree
It looks so strange to me
Wondering how it become a tree
A small sprout from a seed in my hand
Now, it's bigger than me.

Unfortunately, tree stood alone
Grows without heart and soul
No friend, no companion
But still stand strong
For you to help on

A tree is a friend to me
That set you free from calamity
From floods and erosion you are free
As you rest under the tree,
Think how lucky you are with a tree.

poem by Cristina Delos Santos
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I Shall Not Be Moved

(words & music by homer morris)
Well lordy I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats growin in the meadow (down by the water)
I shall not be moved
Im on my way to glory land and I shall not be moved
On my way to glory land I will not be moved
Im like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Well Im on my way to glory land and I shall not be moved
On my way to glory land I shall not be moved
Im like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Oh well
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
On this rock of ages, I shall not be moved
On this rock of ages, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Glory, glory, glory hallelujah, I shall not be moved
Glory hallelujah, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fee

This tree has no trouble
And I have no trouble.

I have no trouble
With this trouble-free tree.

This trouble-free tree
has no trouble
With a trouble-free me.

This trouble-free tree
has no trouble. This tree
has no trouble.

And I have no trouble
With a trouble-free me.

But were I to be free
Of a trouble-free me,
This trouble-free tree
Spells trouble for me.

Were this tree to be free
Of this trouble-free tree,
There might even be
A real trouble-spree.

This is to say, “See,
Trouble exacts a fee:
A price (in fact) to see
This trouble-free tree.”

[5-23-07 Berkeley]

poem by David Floren
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Oh! My God Save My TREE

Oh! My God Save My Tree
When I born My Mother put a tree
When I playing singh sweet song my tree
When I marry my tree wish my life
So why not tree is my friend

poem by Sujon Roy
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The Creation of the Moon

The man cut his throat and left his head there.
The others went to get it.
When they got there they put the head in a sack.
Farther on the head fell out onto the ground.
They put the head back in the sack.
Farther on the head fell out again.
Around the first sack they put a second one that
was thicker.
But the head fell out just the same.
It should be explained that they were taking the head
to show to the others.
They did not put the head back in the sack.
They left it in the middle of the road.
They went away.

They crossed the river.
But the head followed them.
They climbed up a tree full of fruit
to see whether it would go past.

The head stopped at the foot of the tree
and asked them for some fruit.
So the men shook the tree.
The head went to get the fruit.
Then it asked for some more.

So the men shook the tree
so that the fruit fell into the water.
The head said it couldn't get the fruit from there.
So the men threw the fruit a long way
to make the head go a long way to get it so they could go.
While the head was getting the fruit
the men got down from the tree and went on.

The head came back and looked at the tree
and didn't see anybody
so went on rolling down the road.

The men had stopped to wait
to see whether the head would follow them.
They saw the head come rolling.

They ran.
They got to their hut they told the others that the head
was rolling after them and to shut the door.

All the huts were closed tight.
When it got there the head commanded them to open the doors.
The owners would not open them because they were afraid.

So the head started to think what it would turn into.
If it turned into water they would drink it.
If it turned into earth they would walk on it.
If it turned into a house they would live in it.
If it turned into a steer they would kill it and eat it.
If it turned into a cow they would milk it.
If it turned into a bean they would cook it.
If it turned into the sun
When men were cold it would heat them.
If it turned into rain the grass would grow and the
animals would crop it.

So it thought, and it said, "I will turn into the moon."
It called, "Open the doors, I want to get my things."
They would not open them.

The head cried. It called out, "At least give me
my two balls of twine."
They threw out the two balls of twine through a hole.
It took them and threw them into the sky.

It asked them to throw it a little stick too
to roll the thread around so it could climb up.

Then it said, "I can climb, I am going to the sky."
It started to climb.

The men opened the doors right away.
The head went on climbing.
The men shouted, "You going to the sky, head?"
It didn't answer.

As soon as it got to the Sun
it turned into the Moon.
Toward evening the Moon was white, it was beautiful.
And the men were surprised
to see that the head had turned into the Moon.

poem by Anonymous
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When I was only three I planted a tree

When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.

poem by Brad Milner
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You And The Tree

As I see you standing there
looking at that tree.
Many a thought come flocking by
deep-down inside of me.

I can't decide whats more beautiful
You or the tree?
I stand flummoxed, captivated
Immersed in deep mystery.

I find you protective as the tree
sheltering me in your arms.
I find you reassuring as the tree
Always believing in me, always firm.

You protect me from life's harsh realities
as the tree shades the rain and light.
You shield me from all misery,
you give me a reason to fight.

Whatever it is, I don't care.
I want both of you here.
The tree for its shade and you as my mate
And then i can spend ages here.

poem by Bistirna Barua
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The Beauty Tree

I see a tree sitting in the stream
flowing past it as the waters gleamed
time twisted and turned the roots ashore
the flowers of the tree of which i adore
falling to the clear water at its floor
keeping the tree buried in the cold water
just like the seeds broken from a poor plotter
a season to come and a season to leave
to the water i will always forever cleave
but as the leaves begin to stray away
the sun shining upon the dieing day
the tree although not so beautiful anymore
begins a new journey upon the midday shore

poem by Branden Aeling
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The Hag Nut (quatrain)

We continued to travel into the night

Until the hag nut was in sight.

Transparent, lovely for one to see

Lying under the big oak tree.

poem by Heather Burns
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The Ardennes Forest

Cup your hands to scoop up sleep
as you would draw a grain of water
and the forest will come: a green cloud
a birch trunk like a chord of light
and a thousand eyelids fluttering
with forgotten leafy speech
then you will recall the white morning
when you waited for the opening of the gates

you know this land is opened by a bird
that sleeps in a tree and the tree in the earth
but here is a spring of new questions
underfoot the currents of bad roots
look at the pattern on the bark where
a chord of music tightens
the lute player who presses the frets
so the silent resounds

push away leaves: a wild strawberry
dew on a leaf the comb of grass
further a wing of a yellow damselfly
and an ant burying its sister
a wild pear sweetly ripens
above the treacheries of belladonnas
without waiting for greater rewards
sit under the tree

cup your hands to draw up memory
of the dead names dried grain
again the forest: a charred cloud
forehead branded by black light
and a thousand lids pressed
tightly on motionless eyeballs
a tree and the air broken
betrayed faith of empty shelters

that other forest is for us is for you
the dead also ask for fairy tales
for a handful of herbs water of memories
therefore by needles by rustling
and faint threads of fragrances--
no matter that a branch stops you
a shadow leads you through winding passages--
you will find and open
our Ardennes Forest

poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Banyan Tree

Banyan tree, banyan tree
that century old banyan tree
standing grandeurly for us to see
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Cool breeze passing through
seeking blessings of banyan tree
branches shaking in approval
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Glassy green with majestic trunk
touching the earth, not breaking free
shelter home for different birds
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Yellowish streaks, some with reddish tinge
welcome every season with a glee
symbol of eternal life
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Shedding leaves, like tears falling
a grandfather lamenting on its knees
new plants cuddling around
banyan tree, banyan tree.

Lord Buddha became its buddy
meditation was the only key
peace you get underneath
that is why it is banyan tree.

Banyan tree, banyan tree
wish fullfilling, it is banyan tree
just pray here and let you see
Banyan tree, banyan tree.

A life giver and just for free
Banyan is my national pride
preserve these at any cost
don't commit a homicide?

poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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The Pain Of Moving On

A tree looked up to one star and that one alone,
It didn't see any other stars but that one.
It was its bestfriend.
Its happiness.
Its everything.
The tree continued to grow taller.
Hoping, wishing that his height would bring him and the star closer.
Instead the taller the tree grew the further the star got.
The star tempted the tree on some nights, letting its star shine so bright...
so that it seemed closer.
Then it really was.
But the star just wanted to see its beautiful reflection on the tree.
Not to spend time with it.
And the tree watched.
Cried.
Hated.
As he watched the star shine for another tree and forget about him.
Wasted his time.
Cared too much.
For a star he had known all his life,
He watched put others before him.
The sadness was too much to bear.
So it wouldn't grow and was cut down
Down.
Down.
Down.
The star continued to move
Up.
Didn't even stop and think.
About what it had done.

poem by Aurelia Ivy
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On Tree

Just a plain old TREE. I Ignored the weather
satisfied with me. I Looked at TREE.

What if anything do I knoe about TREE.
It used to be a thing made out of wood, always tall,

with branches near the ground. Roots fingering the ground.
Life comes up somehow to TREE. Water cascades down to ground, seeping slowly into ROOT. ROOT transmogrifies

the water into inner sanctum stuff known only to the Lord.
People still tell me, Tree just cannot live.

There is no real feeling in TREE.
There is knowledge in TREE or it would be a blade of grass.

People say the life is in the seed or sapiling.
I think the knowledge is in the MAN, the ONE who can.

He Makes all the TREE begin, upon a distant planet,
Creates the thing again, in the courtyard of his KING.

And every meadow of his earth.
The ONE who gave me birthe the second time around.

The ONE who gave me TREE.
And Time to write this down.

poem by Charles Hice
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