Melusine
At my windows the night weeps -
The night is mute, the wind probably weeps,
The wind, like a lost child -
What is it that makes him weep so?
O poor Melusine!
Like fire her hair blows in the storm,
Like fire passing clouds, and laments -
There for you, you poor maiden,
My heart speaks a still night prayer!
O poor Melusine!
poem by Georg Trakl
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Related quotes
Ballad (1)
A heart laments: you do not find her,
Her native country is probably far from here,
And her face is strange!
The night weeps by a door!
In the marble hall light upon light burns,
O stuffy, o stuffy! Somebody dies here!
A whisper somewhere: o do you not come?
The night weeps by a door!
A sobbing still: o that he would see the light!
Then it became dark there and here -
A sobbing: brother, o do you not pray?
The night weeps by a door.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Winter night and the three little men
Winter Night and The Three Little Men.
The Fire burns bright,
While the woods turn to night.
The cold creeps in with sudden quickness
and trees set in sudden ice.
It is, suffice to say, that this is a cold Winter night.
The fire that night kept warm the three little Men
and cast a light that stayed the predators of that cold winter night.
The cold crept and the Wolves howled but all tried in vain
for the fire kept the three little men safe,
but men are lazy and some call them crazy.
All the same because that winter night was to
be the last for the little three men.
The three little men eyes drooped and finely closed
but the poor men forgot to tend the fire.
The fire went out with a flicker then a splutter
and Winter night crept in;
There was one witness that cold Winter night, the Moon.
Try as she could her brightness could not save the poor
little three Men, that cold Winter night.
Josiah, Lozier
poem by Josiah Lozier
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The way it goes. (BY A 12 YEAR OLD)
The wind in your hair,
the wind in your face, the wind in your toes,
the wind up in space.
The wind down below,
or even up higher.
as cold as ice,
or as hot as fire.
When the wind tieds down,
the grass stops moving.
The trees are still,
and grandma starts snoring.
The day comes to night,
The sun turns to moon.
Then I have to wait,
till morning to use a spoon.
Good night my child,
now, you rest up good!
for now you'll be sleeping,
aswell as the neighborhood.
So as you sleep,
I'll continue to sing.
and when the day comes
you'll get the chance,
to sing to your kids, my love.
poem by Braylyn Thomasson
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Still Im Sad
Version 1 (from stranger in us all)
See the stars come fallin down the sky
Gently passing, they kiss your tear drops dry
See the wind come, softly blow
Your hair from your face
And the rain comes falling down
In its crazy way
Still Im sad
For myself my tears just fall in the dust
As I search in the night and find theyre lost
See the wind come gently blow
Time into my heart
And the rain comes falling down
While were apart
Still Im sad
Version 2 (yardbirds version? )
See the stars come joining down from the skies
Gently passing they kiss your tears when you cry
See the wind of summer blow your hair upon your head
See the rain, the falling rain, its rain
Still Im sad
Oh my flowers, my tears are falling two days
They are driving the night profound, they are lost
Flower, flower the wind is blowing
Time into my heart
When the wind blows hard, we are apart
Still Im sad
Oh, oh, oh, oh, still Im sad
Oh, oh, oh, oh, how Im sad
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In A Cold Wind
In a cold wind
in a night wind,
under a yellow street-light,
its paleness and the dark night.
Leaves blown past,
down the wind, cast
onto the silent roadway,
or in heaps, on the footway.
The houses that rise
into grey skies,
windows with drawn curtains,
facing onto pale gardens.
Slow in the sky,
the clouds moving by;
on the ground, the shadows blurred,
the whistling wind heard.
And the wind that blows
comes not, nor goes.
In this night, its sound
wraps all around.
Not here alone,
its long low drone,
along endless fences and hedges,
insidiously edges.
Now is the hour,
now is the closing of the flower,
an end to approaching and retreating,
to losing and defeating,
in a cold wind,
in a night wind,
on a corner of a cold street,
where all directions meet.
poem by Rory Hudson
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Summer's Here
The crackling of the fire,
The howl of the wind against my window,
The chirping birds in the night sky,
Makes me smile, happily,
But the death of the fire,
The wind just softly blowing,
And the silence of the birds in the night sky,
Makes me sad,
Because, winter is ending and summer is beginning.
poem by Sophie Shaw
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What night brings
The raging wind of the silent night cuts my skin the moon weeps at my feet i bleed but only internally so you will never see what the night does to me the sea drowns me feeding off every missed breath i gasp only to awake in the sky of burning flesh the night belongs to me the night indulges me to night i fly free
poem by Francisco valentine
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If I were dead
'IF I were dead, you'd sometimes say, Poor Child!'
The dear lips quiver'd as they spake,
And the tears brake
From eyes which, not to grieve me, brightly smiled.
Poor Child, poor Child!
I seem to hear your laugh, your talk, your song.
It is not true that Love will do no wrong.
Poor Child!
And did you think, when you so cried and smiled,
How I, in lonely nights, should lie awake,
And of those words your full avengers make?
Poor Child, poor Child!
And now, unless it be
That sweet amends thrice told are come to thee,
O God, have Thou no mercy upon me!
Poor Child!
poem by Coventry Patmore
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Ladies Pay
All the sailors theyre all home from leave
And everybodys waiting for them to try to deceive
The storekeepers have drawn their lace curtains bare
And all the women and the wee young girls all waiting there
Oh, but how the ladies pay
Oh, if they only knew how the ladies pay
Yeah now, how the ladies pay
Oh, when the men theyve gone away
Nobody is standing on upon the door
And nobody is feeding any of the poor
The poor sick soldier lies in bed beside his girl
Thinking of another place on the other side of the world
Ah
How the ladies pay
Oh-oh, oh, how the ladies pay
When the men theyve gone away
Oh, I wish I knew how the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night
Night and day
Day and night
Day and night, night and day, ladies pay now
Night and day, day and night
How the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night now
Night and day and now
How the pay now
Oh, how the pay now
Ladies pay, ladies pay
Ah, ladies pay the way now
Ladies pay, ah, ladies pay
Ah, ladies pay
Night and day, night and day, night and day
Oh, how the ladies pay
Oh, night and day, night and day, night and day
Oh, how the ladies pay
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Taw Shi
The desert wind
From the East
Binding us together
Oh...oh...oh...oh...
Dance for me Taw Shi
The day has come to prove
To prove your love
Forever
Oh...oh...oh...oh...
Dance for me Taw Shi
Among the two
I prefer you
I want to see you
Set fire to the night
Among the two
You must come through
Oh let me see you
Set fire to the night
Oh...oh...oh...oh...
Dance for me this dance
Oh...oh...oh...oh...
Chant with me this chant
So follow me
Across the sand
To where the music's playing
Oh...oh...oh...oh...
Dance for me Taw Shi
The sands will blow
A thousand years
The rythm still remains
Oh...oh...oh...oh...
Dance for me Taw Shi
Among the two
I prefer you
I want to see you
Set fire to the night
Among the two
You must come through
Oh let me see you
Set fire to the night
Oh...oh...oh...oh...
Dance for me this dance
Oh...oh...oh...oh...
Chant with me this chant
Oh, oh YAH YAH
TAW SHI WA NADAR
Oh, oh YAH YAH
TAW SHI - YA YA YA
TAW SHI - YA YA YA
I want to see you
Set fire to the night
TAW SHI - YA YA YA
TAW SHI - YA YA YA
Oh let me see you
Set fire to the night
TAW SHI - YA YA YA
TAW SHI - YA YA YA
I want to see you
Set fire to the night
Oh, oh YA YA YA!...
song performed by by Ofra Haza
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Day
Peggy day stole my poor heart away,
By golly, what more can I say,
Love to spend the night with peggy day.
Peggy night makes my future look so bright,
Man, that girl is out of sight,
Love to spend the day with peggy night.
Well, you know that even before I learned her name,
You know I loved her just the same.
An I tell em all, wherever I may go,
Just so theyll know, that shes my little lady
And I love her so.
Peggy day stole my poor heart away,
Turned my skies to blue from gray,
Love to spend the night with peggy day.
Peggy day stole my poor heart away,
By golly, what more can I say,
Love to spend the night with peggy day.
Love to spend the night with peggy day.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Child A Soldier
Her burdened soul, weeps dry tears.
Longing for the heart of her child.
A soldier.
Dark treacherous night.
Hidden plights.
Sad, saddened life.
Lost again.
Weeping men... Lost sins.
Forge on, forgiven sights.
And heights.
Quiet stories, unfound glories.
Oh, the heart of her child.
A soldier.
Dayless sleep, nightless dreams.
Only a man.
Desires arms of peace.
Peace... oh peace, how tragic does it weep.
Hopeful smiles come and pass.
Again to ravage a life.
Changed.
An invisible cage - holds faith.
Hope, … anger, … rage, … caged, … at bay.
Visible faces, and unseen places.
Oh, the truth of her child.
A soldier.
Her burdened soul, weeps dry tears.
Longing for the heart of her child... a soldier.
poem by Karen van Wyk
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Santa Ana Winds
When the wind decides that its time to ride,
To spread a little hell through the heartland,
It takes a good long toke then it blows the smoke
Through the desert night c
And the wings of fire c
Keep climbin higher,
See the flames cuttin hard through the homeland,
It takes a mighty strong will to strip the chill from the desert night --
Youre wakened from your dream by a sirens scream,
Trapped by the walls that surround you --
Then its will to will, and you wonder still can you struggle free?
In a thousand ways, when you turn the phrase,
The winds like a love of a woman c
It takes a mighty mean bitch --
Some fire witch --
To set the night on fire
And the santa ana winds gonna have its way tonight
Nothing you can dos gonna change her mind c
And aint it a lot like love the way desire takes you in c
And stokes the fire like the santa ana wind
Now the air is calm, and the heart grows numb,
The ashes burn low in the heartland,
til again the wind starts closin in to set the night on fire
And the santa ana winds blowin cross my heart tonight
Nothing you can dos gonna change her mind --
And woman I want your love --
I need that passion deep within,
Like the ragin fire needs the santa ana wind
And the santa ana winds gonna take your life tonight
Nothing you can dos gonna change her mind --
And aint it a lot like love
The way desire takes you in --
Swept away with the santa ana wind
song performed by by Survivor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song in the Night
I
Born from the shadow of a breath
We wander in abandonment
And are lost in the eternal,
Like victims ignorant wherefore they are consecrated.
Like beggars nothing is our own,
We fools at the locked gate.
As blind people we listen in the silence,
In which our whisper is lost.
We are the wanderers without destinations,
The clouds which the wind blows away,
The flowers shaking in death's coolness,
Which wait, until one mows them down.
II
So that the last torment becomes complete with me,
I do not defend you, you hostile dark powers.
You are the road to great stillness,
Upon which we stride in the coolest nights.
Your breath makes me burn louder,
Patience! The star dies down, the dreams glide
In those realms not named to us,
And which we may only walk along dreamlessly.
III
You dark night, you dark heart,
Who mirrors your holiest ground,
And your malice's last abysses?
The mask stares before our pain -
Before our pain, before our lust
The empty mask's stony laughter,
On it the earthen things broke,
And ourselves not deliberately.
And a strange enemy stands before us,
Who jeers, about which we struggle dying,
So that our songs sound cloudier
And what weeps in us remains dark.
IV
You are the wine that makes drunk,
Now I bleed in sweet dances
And must wreath my suffering with flowers!
So your deepest mind wills, o night!
I am the harp in your womb,
Now your dark song struggles
For the last pains in my heart
And makes me eternal, unreal.
V
Deep rest - o deep rest!
No devout bell rings,
You sweet mother of pain -
Your death-widened peace.
Close all wounds
With your cool, good hands -
So that inward they bleed to death -
Sweet mother of pain - you!
VI
O let my silence be your song!
What should the poor's whisper be to you,
Who is separated from life's gardens?
Let you be nameless in me -
Who is dreamlesslybuilt up in me ,
Like a bell without tone,
Like my pain's sweet bride
And the drunken poppy of my sleepings.
VII
I heard flowers die in the ground
And the wells' drunken lament
And a song from the bell's mouth,
Night, and a whispered question;
And a heart - o death-wound,
Beyond its poor days.
VIII
The darkness extinguished me in silence,
I became a dead shadow in the day -
Then I stepped from the house of joy
Outside in the night.
Now a silence dwells in my heart,
That does not feel the dreary day -
And smiles up to you like thorns,
Night - forever and ever!
IX
O night, you mute gate before my suffering,
See this dark stigmata bleeding to death
And completely inclined the staggering chalice of agony!
O night, I am ready!
O night, you garden of oblivion
Around my poverty's closed-to-the-world shine,
The wine leaves wilt, the wreath of thorns wilts.
O come, you grand time!
X
My demon once laughed,
When I was a light in gleaming gardens,
And play and dance were my companions
And the wine of love, which makes drunk.
My demon once wept,
When I was a light in painful gardens
And humility was my companion,
Whose radiance shines on poverty's house.
However, now my demon neither weeps nor laughs,
I am a shadow of lost gardens
And my death-dark companion is
The silence of the empty midnight.
XI
My poor smile which struggled for you,
My sobbing song faded away in darkness.
Now my path comes to an end.
Let me tread in your cathedral
Like once, a fool, simple minded, devoutly,
And stand adoring mutely before you.
XII
You are in deep midnight
A dead shore at the silent sea,
A dead shore: Never more!
You are in deep midnight.
You are in deep midnight
The heaven in which you glowed as a star,
A heaven from which no more God blossoms.
You are in deep midnight.
You are in deep midnight
An unbegotten in sweet womb,
And never existing, unreal!
You are in deep midnight.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Buddha Himself Weeps
The wind passing by me,
Has blood smell with cries,
By and by I open my eyes and see,
Wounded humanity before me lies,
In the lap of Buddha her head she keeps,
Seeing her misery, he himself weeps.
The Last Mughal comes to him in white attire,
Speaks softly having tears in his eyes,
'Who has disturbed me by putting fire?
Why hurt humanity in thy lap lies?
Brought me here from India for final rest,
I've been given for her the sacrificing test.'
'Anger is the foe of peace and brain,
It has put fire that forced thee arise,
I have come to heal my daughter again, '
Buddha speaks having tears in hiseyes,
'They are not mine but wild criminal indeed,
They will have to pay someday for their deed.'
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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A Wind From... Elsewhere
The wind blows here... the wind blows there
The wind seems to blow from... everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair...
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! Can you see its graceful fingers... playing in your hair?
Nay! You cannot see the wind... e'en though you know it's there.
It's flitting... it's flirting... it's prancing everywhere
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! It blows unexpectedly... with a gentle breeze... it blows...
The Great Hand of Miracles... brings it... then it goes
To greet the early morning sun... to dance to and fro
From the highest, loftiest mountain heights... to valleys... far below. 'Who is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth...
Who gathereth the winds in his fists—Who maketh a wind to pass over...
Thou hearest the sound thereof...
But canst not tell whence it cometh... and wither it goeth.' The wind blows here... the wind blows there...
The wind seems to blow... from everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair—
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE!
poem by Elga Haymon White
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The Fire Alarm
Fire-fire-fire! Nigher still and nigher
Seem the tones of the 'Alarum bell' borne on the air!
Awaking with a start, what a sinking of the heart
Even the strong are apt to feel, ere they are well aware!
Fire-fire-fire! Higher now and higher
Leaps the madly raging flames as the cry goes round!
In the darkness of the night what a truly awful sight
Is the burning up of homes, while we listen to the sound.
Fire-fire-fire! Behold the havoc dire!
When the black, wreathing smoke a moment clears away-
The flames both hiss and roar as the brave firemen pour
Constantly the crystal streams from Engines in full play.
Fire-fire-fire! Fresh force it does acquire!
The rising wind has sent the blaze unto the other side!
Yet men are standing round in torpor most profound;
Rouse ye up! now fall to work, and let your strength be tried!
Fire-fire-fire! Two blocks seem one vast pyre.
Oh, pity the poor houseless ones-fleeing now away!
Screen them from Winter's blast, for they are on you cast-
That sympathy in measure their losses may repay.
Fire-fire-fire! Thank God, the flames expire!
For a cold, but drenching rain most opportunely comes.
Now honor that Brigade which has such efforts made,
And don't forget your neighbors who have just lost their homes.
poem by Thomas Cowherd
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The Complaints Of The Poor
And wherefore do the Poor complain?
The rich man asked of me,--
Come walk abroad with me, I said
And I will answer thee.
Twas evening and the frozen streets
Were cheerless to behold,
And we were wrapt and coated well,
And yet we were a-cold.
We met an old bare-headed man,
His locks were few and white,
I ask'd him what he did abroad
In that cold winter's night:
'Twas bitter keen indeed, he said,
But at home no fire had he,
And therefore, he had come abroad
To ask for charity.
We met a young bare-footed child,
And she begg'd loud and bold,
I ask'd her what she did abroad
When the wind it blew so cold;
She said her father was at home
And he lay sick a-bed,
And therefore was it she was sent
Abroad to beg for bread.
We saw a woman sitting down
Upon a stone to rest,
She had a baby at her back
And another at her breast;
I ask'd her why she loiter'd there
When the wind it was so chill;
She turn'd her head and bade the child
That scream'd behind be still.
She told us that her husband served
A soldier, far away,
And therefore to her parish she
Was begging back her way.
We met a girl; her dress was loose
And sunken was her eye,
Who with the wanton's hollow voice
Address'd the passers by;
I ask'd her what there was in guilt
That could her heart allure
To shame, disease, and late remorse?
She answer'd, she was poor.
I turn'd me to the rich man then
For silently stood he,
You ask'd me why the Poor complain,
And these have answer'd thee.
poem by Robert Southey
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Tears of the poor
Tears of the poor are
The drinks of the rich.
Shedding of blood
Rich man's headache,
Poor men's justice.
Water is too cool
To bring forth your anguish,
Fire is the only solution
Drink fire to end your injustice.
Silence is lover's desire
Poor men's unbearable pain.
Din is the only right choice
To put forth your demand.
Dew is the conspiracy
Hatched between the rich and the king,
Morning is the 1st step
Of that poor men's sufferings.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Stranger In The Wind...
Stranger in the wind...
Beckons at my door.
Stanger in the wind...
Wanting even more.
Stranger in the wind...
Hard to really ignore.
Stranger in the wind..
Making my heart ache, as sore.
Stranger in the wind...
Rapping at my door.
Stanger in the wind...
Who knows i am so poor.
Stranger in the wind...
My time here-has me bore...
Many aches and pains of a thirsting heart...
Can only be quenched by ye, your remembered part.
Stranger in the wind...
My heart, you'll win.
Stranger in the wind...
Yon soul so deep.
Stranger in the wind...
My heart you'll keep.
Stranger in the wind...
my soul you'll reap.
Stranger in the wind...
You make me weep.
poem by Michael Gale
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