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Rondeau

Gone and passed is the gold of day,
And the evening’s brown and blue:
Silenced the shepherd’s tender flute
And the evening’s brown and blue
Gone and passed as is the gold of day.

poem by Georg Trakl
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Rondel

Rondel

The day’s gold is consumed,
The evening’s brown and blue:
The herders’ flutes swell then die
The evening’s blue and brown
The day’s gold is consumed.

Translated by Eric Plattner

…………………………………………………………………

Rondel

Verflossen ist das Gold der Tage,
Des Abends braun und blaue Farben:
Des Hirten sanfte Flöten starben
Des Abends blau und braune Farben
Verflossen ist das Gold der Tage.

poem by Georg Trakl
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Blue, Brown and Gold

Blue, brown and gold, bold, I'll unfold
a portrait drawn upon a train
one summer morn which shall remain
for heart to hold if truth be told.

Brown, gold and blue she sat, smiled too,
to me it seemed true beauty gleamed, -
my spirit teemed with hopes that, teamed,
we'd share love through fair seasons new.

Blue, gold and brown without a frown
she journeyed on, too soon was gone, -
yet still upon my soul she shone.
Brown bag, blue gown, - Life's golden crown!

Blue, brown and gold, cannot grow [c]old
Year in year out their tale is told...

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Blue Gold Sky

Blue gold sky
Your fire is burning
Horizon questions why
Your evening is yearning
For a day that is soon gone
Into oblivion abyss
To carry the night on
In dreamy nocturnal kiss

All the blue gold is bound
Into your drifting clouds
Sunset of silver found
Among the streets and crowds
Love song of dusky distant
Where weaving dreams go
In to the nonexistent
Of ocean’s nightly glow

Blue gold sky
Yesterday is in your sight
When you come in sweet lullaby
In the falling off the eve light
Chariot of fire gold
Blue silver moon beyond
Nothing your dreams can hold
You are to stars whishes bond

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Blue Suede Shoes

You can knock me down,
Slap my face
Slander my name
All over the place
Do anything that you want to do,
But oh oh honey,
Lay of them blue suede shoes
Now don't you step
On my blue suede shoes
Well you can do anything
But lay of them blue suede shoes
Ah go!
You can burn my house,
Steal my car,
Drink my liquor
From a old fruit jar
Do anything
That you want to do,
But ah ah honey,
Lay of them blue suede shoes
And don't you step
On my blue suede shoes, please
Well you can do anything
But lay of them blue suede shoes
Ah go, hit it, Carl (Perkins)!
Well blue blue,
Blue suede shoes
Yeah blue blue,
Blue Suede shoes
Blue blue blue,
Blue suede shoes
Yeah brown brown
Brown suede boots
Yeah brown brown
Brown suede boots
Well you can do anything
But lay of them blue suede shoes

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Brown And The Blue...

it is not between blue
or brown
it brown within the
coolness of blue

it is when the brown
is let go
when the blue rests
on the floor

as brown and scarlet
seek each other's hold.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Homecoming

When the evening breathes golden rest

Forest and dark meadow before which

Man is a looker,

A shepherd, dwelling in the flocks' dusking stillness,

The patience of the red beeches;

So clearly since it has become autumn. By the hill

The lonely one listens to the flight of birds,

To dark meaning and the shadows of the dead

Have gathered more seriously around him;

Cool mignonette scent fulfills him with shudders,

The huts of the villagers the elder,

Where in former times the child dwelled.

Memory, buried hope

Is preserved by these brown rafters,

Over which dahlias hang

So that the hands strive after them,

In the brown garden the shimmering step

Forbidden loving, dark year,

That from blue eyelids the tears

Of the stranger fell irresistibly.

From brown treetops dew drips,

When that one, a blue deer, awakes on the hill,

Listening to the loud calls of the fishermen

By the evening pond

To the amorphous cry of the bats;

But in golden stillness

The drunken heart dwells

Full of its noble death.

poem by Georg Trakl
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In the Evening

A blue brook, path and evening along decayed huts.

Behind dark shrubbery children play with blue and red balls;

Some swap the forehead and the hands rot in the brown foliage.

In bony stillness the heart of the lonely one shines,

A small boat rocks on blackish waters.

Through dark woods hair and laughter of brown maids flutters.

The shadows of the old people cross the flight of a small bird;

Mystery of blue flowers on their temples.

Others sway on black benches in the evening wind.

Golden sighs quietly expire in the bleak branches

Of the chestnut; a sound of dark cymbals of summer,

When the strangeress appears on the decayed staircase.

poem by Georg Trakl
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Sheep and Lambs

All in the April evening,
April airs were abroad;
The sheep with their little lambs
Passed me by on the road.

The sheep with their little lambs
Passed me by on the road;
All in the April evening
I thought on the Lamb of God.

The lambs were weary and crying
With a weak, human cry.
I thought on the Lamb of God
Going meekly to die.

Up in the blue, blue mountains
Dewy pastures are sweet;
Rest for the little bodies,
Rest for the little feet.

But for the Lamb of God,
Up on the hill-top green,
Only a Cross of shame
Two stark crosses between.

All in the April evening,
April airs were abroad;
I saw the sheep with their lambs,
And thought on the Lamb of God.

poem by Katharine Tynan
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A Brown Study

LET them sing of their primrose and cowslip,
Their daffodil-gold-coloured hair,
Their bluebells, blue eyes, and white violets,
All the pale dreamy things they find fair;
Give me stir of brown leaves in the sunshine,
The whir of brown wings through the wheat,
The rush of brown hares through the clover,
And the light in brown eyes of my sweet!

Gold hair? Well, I never could love it,
Yet gold, I suppose, has its worth;
The head that I love is as dusky
As the breast of our mother, the earth;
With a gleam like the shine of wet seaweed,
Round pools that the tide has left clear,
And warm like the breast of a linnet,
And as brown, is the hair of my dear.

From the edge of the cliff we look downwards
On the shore, and the bay, and the town,
And brown is the short turf we lean on,
The fishing-boats' sails are all brown:
The sky may be blue--that's the background,--
But the picture itself, to be fair,
However it's shaded and varied,
Should be brown as the dress that you wear.

A lark bursts to sudden sweet singing--
That tuft of brown grass is his home--
And now, a brown speck, he is rising
Against the clear windy sky-dome;
And he sings--how I know? Love instructs me
To know all his notes, what they mean--
That it isn't the colour I care for,
But yourself, oh, my gipsy, my queen!

Ah! the lark knows my heart--I his language;
It's my heart he sings out to the skies;
It is you that I love, and what matter
The colour of hair or of eyes?
No doubt I should love you as dearly
Were your hair like an apricot's down,
And your eyes like the grey of the morning;
But I'm glad, all the same, that they're brown.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Stormy Blue Sea

I cannot abide brown when
blue can be had, the irritation
of seeing the brown scarf with
glitter representing sea spray
draped over my coat rack is
immense when my blue scarf
is around my neck

Immediately the brown scarf is
replaced, now my office beach
scene consists of a stormy blue
sea with green patches of sea-
weed, the intense colour taking
the feeling of brown-induced
malaise away

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Out Of The Blue

(byron hill, robert a. johnson)
Out of the blue
I needed someone to take me
Out of the blue
It seemed Id always be alone
Till out of the blue came you
Out of the blue
Waiting for a love to take me
Out of the blue
I thought love had passed me by
Till out of the blue came you
Spreading my wings alone Id fly
That empty sky of blue
Hoping that I would someday find
That someone just like you
Out of the blue
Someone whos love would take me
Out of the blue
I had almost given up
Till out of the blue came you
I thought love had passed me by
Till out of the blue came you

song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Rained So Hard In The Mountains

it rained so hard in the mountains
and the water ran
together toward the blue sea

a conquest
between brown and blue

i am looking.
the sea is parted.

brown is about fourteen meters.
and blue is driven away.

the trees are bald.
a coconut falls.

we wait. we see how
brownish things murk
the bluish shade of this world.

i am this Filipino.
I am brown. I am what
is this murkiness all about.

we parted.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Brown And Blue, Revised....

it is not between blue
or brown

it is of this earth
within the
coolness of blue

it is when the brown
shades of this
skin
are spread

when the blue shades of your eyes rest
upon the floor
of my belly

that my navel beats
like a tadpole in that pond

as brown and scarlet
take once more the interlinking of my earthly arms
to the blueness of your skies

it is when color
seek each other's hold
it is when when they mix
and blend

that tones and scents become
as perfect as both

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blue On Blue

Blue on blue
Skys in your eyes
Steer you away like I wasnt here
Where do you go when you fantasize
That you wish Id disappear
Leave you to dreaming and leave you alone
Lost in a world thats all your own
Can I come, too
Blue on blue
Dreams like you are making now
Are very hard to share
All I ask is one small favor
Dream a dream and wish me there
Gold on gold, sun in your hair
Spinning the rainbow, weaving the wind
Bluing the dye for the midnight air
Counting the gold at the rainbows end
Rapier princess whispers your name
Out of the time before I came
Ill never know
Gold on gold
Dreams like you are making now
Are very hard to share
All I ask is one small favor
Dream a dream and wish me there
Blue on blue

song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reverse Negative Society

In a reverse negative society light brown is dark blue, dark brown is light blue hue,
see on Razel’s planet, ice rocks are stronger then granite and what is up is down,
and what is left is right, and what is blue is brown. Now Razel face is more brown these days, she was stung with one of Melodie’s heat rays, which then sent her into a Jimmy Hendrix purple hair haze. Even Melodie’s hair is yellow, which makes her so mellow.

poem by Christina Sunrise
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In A Windowpane

I looked into a windowpane
Last evening in a city far away
I was feelin sad and blue
I wondered then if I should really stay
Wanting someone to be with me in the light of this uncertain time
Waiting by the window for the man inside
To please make up his mind
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
I walked along the roadway to a fountain
Where lovers come to meet
A hobo walked up to me, I could tell
He didnt have enough to eat
He said, good sir you look so kind
And though the years have stripped me to the bone
It seems I am the better man
For in this place Ive never walked alone
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Where will you be, my friendly, when your
Telephone aint givin out no calls
And when the seasons come to haunt you
Will you still find springtime in the fall
And when youre on your island
Will you wave at every ship that passes by
And will you feed a hungry man
I thank you, sir,
Now Ill just say goodbye
Dont you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Untitled: O the Dwelling

O the dwelling in the stillness of the dusking garden,

When the eyes of the sister round and dark opened in the brother,

The purple of their broken mouths

Melted in the coolness of the evening.

Heart-breaking hour.

September ripened the golden pear. Sweetness of incense

And the dahlia burns at the old fence

Say! where were we, when we passed by on small black boat

In the evening,

The crane passed over. The freezing arms

Held black embraced, and inside blood ran.

And around our temples moist blue. Poor little child.

Deeply a dark race ponders out of knowing eyes.

poem by Georg Trakl
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A Muse From The Forest

The white gold,
The black gold,
The red gold,
The yellow gold,
'Obroni-Nephew' is about to teach you all;
Like the very call of a muse from the forest.

The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects;
The very call from the forest with a view but,
Do you like to be fed with crocodile meat?
The lizard meat,
The lion meat,
The tiger meat,
The snake meat,
The elephant meat,
Life is like that for many who eat everything;
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects.

Life is like a visit to the biggest cemetery on earth,
Do you like to be fed with cockroaches?
Whatever we eat today,
We will be burried one day.
Of the brown gold,
Of the orange gold,
Of the green gold,
Of the blue gold,
The Chinese eat all meat, fish and insects.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Highly-Colored Romance

Ben Green was a New-Hampshire boy,
Who stood full six feet two:
A jovial chap this same Ben Green,
Though he had oft been blue.
He loved a girl named Olive Brown,
Who lived near Bixby's pond,
And who, despite her brunette name,
Was a decided blonde.
"A Highly Colored Romance."
A pink of rare perfection she,
The belle of all the town;
Though Ben oft wished her Olive Green,
Instead of Olive Brown.
And she loved Ben, and said that nought
Should mar their joy serene;
And, when she changed from Olive Brown,
'Twould surely be to Green.
She kept her word in-violet,
And vowed, ere she was wed,
Although when Brown she had Be(e)n Green.
When Green she'd be well read.
But, ah! her young affections changed
To Gray, a Southern fellow;
And Green turned white the news to hear,
Though first it made him yell, oh!
Says he, " How can you lilac this,
When you vowed to be true?
I'll take your fine young lover, Gray,
And beat him till he's blue."
Then Olive Brown to crimson turned,
And said, "Do as you say:
The country long has wished to see
'The Blue combined with Gray.'"
Ben Green to purple turned with rage,
And black his brow as night;
While on the cheek of Olive Brown
The crimson changed to white.
"O cruel Olive Brown!" says Ben,
"I've been dun-brown by you:
Let this 'Grayback' his steps retrace,
And take Greenback, — oh, do!"
Poor Olive Brown, what could she say,
To sea-Green look so sad ?
And so she rose, and said to him,
"I'll go and ask my dad."
. . . .
The years rolled by: Ben's raven locks
For silver did not lack;
And Olive, with her hair of gold,
Was glad she took Greenback.

poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Used To Be Color Blind

Strange
How a dreary world can suddenly change
To a world as bright as the evening star
Queer
What a difference when your vision is clear
And you see things as they really are
I used to be color-blind
But I met you and now I find
Theres green in the grass
Theres gold in the moon
Theres blue in the skies
That semi-circle that was always hanging about
Is not a storm cloud, its a rainbow
And you brought the colors out
Believe me its really true
Till I met you I never knew
A setting sun could paint such beautiful skies
I never knew there were such lovely colors
And the big surprise
Is the red in your cheeks
The gold in your hair
The blue in your eyes

song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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