En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Grey Road

A sun-flash on his mounting wing,
A wild note soaring high—
The lark is up, the minstrel king,
The poet of the sky.
To thrill, to sing of Youth and Spring
Those golden numbers flowed.
What message then
Has he for men
Who tread the long grey road?
Knee-deep in grass the cattle stand,
The river winds along,
And chants through sunny meadow land
A low mysterious song.
Ah! sunlit vale and lover’s tale
Youth’s day is quickly gone—
Past current-beat
And meadow-sweet
The grey road stretches on!

Grim bastions frowning down below—
And rising, tier on tier,
Sublime, and crowned with ageless snow
The awful peaks appear.
The heights belong unto the strong
Who scale, by crags untried,
The great cliffs face—
But at its base
The grey road turns aside!

No hope in Heaven, no minstrel strain,
No vales where summer shone
A leaden sky, a silent plain,
The grey road stretching on.
O Christ, who trod the thorny path,
And bore the bitter load,
Have mercy then
On weary men
Who tread the long grey road!

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Long, Lone Road

YOU that had the soft path
And the lights, brightly glowing,
Your laugh is very still, and your hands are very chill,
And where may you be going?
'Though the light of dawn be breaking,
And the birds of morning call —
All the flowers and trees awaking —
'Tis the long road I'm taking,
The long road, the lone road that has no end at all.'
You that have the red gold,
And the gift of money-making,
Since your journey has no end, sure you'll need a heap to spend,
And how much will you be taking?
'O there's little need for spending
When the grey shadows fall,
And the twilight lies unending
On the way I'll soon be wending —
The long road, the lone road that has no end at all.'
You that had the choice wines,
In the frail cups glowing —
Is there any need to ask if you'll take a golden flask
On the road you'll be going?
'When I walk, a spirit shrinking,
Where the grey shadows fall,
There'll be little need, I'm thinking,
For the rich delights of drinking
On the long road, the lone road that has no end at all!'
You that sought the rich man
And the ladies — jewelled, glowing —
Since the way is far to wend, sure you'll need a true-heart friend
On the road you'll be going?
'Nay! — and not an ear shall heed me
Though I call, call, call,
When the beckoning shadows lead me;
And no prayer of heart shall speed me
On the long road, the lone road that has no end at all!'
You that had the hard heart
And the selfish soul uncaring,
Is there any deed at all that shall let a comfort fall
On the road you'll be going?
'Hush! the lights of day have ended,
And the grey shadows fall,
And, by no sweet thought attended,
I must wander, unbefriended,
Down the long road, the lone road that has no end at all!'

poem by Roderic Quinn
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The Road to Old Man's Town

The fields of youth are filled with flowers,
The wine of youth is strong:
What need have we to count the hours?
The summer days are long.
But soon we find to our dismay
That we are drifting down
The barren slopes that fall away
Towards the foothills grim and grey
That lead to Old Man's Town.

And marching with us on the track
Full many friends we find:
We see them looking sadly back
For those who've dropped behind

But God forfend a fate so dread --
Alone to travel down
The dreary road we all must tread,
With faltering steps and whitening head,
The road to Old Man's Town!

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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The Connaughtman Returning

There's a grey fog over Dublin of the curses,
It blinds my eyes, mavrone, and stops my breath;
And I travel slow that once could run the swiftest,
And I fear ere I meet Mauryeen I'll meet Death.

There's a grey fog over Dublin of the curses,
And a grey fog dogs my footsteps as they go,
And it's long and sore to tread, the road to Connaught.
Is it fault of brogues or feet I fare so slow?

There's a grey fog over Dublin of the curses,
But the Connaught wind will blow it from my way,
And a Connaught girl will kiss it from my memory,
If the Death that walks beside me will delay.

(There's a grey fog over Dublin of the curses,
And no wind comes to break its stillness deep;
And a Connaughtman lies on the road to Connaught,
And Mauryeen will not kiss him from his sleep-Ululu!)

poem by Nora Jane Hopper Chesson
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Crossing The Road of The Uneasy

'When you sleep and know it not
The grey dog creeps among you.
In your sleep, you twist, your soul hurts you.
The grey dog is chewing your entrails.
Then call on Jesus
The grey dog caught me at the cross-roads
As I went down the road of sleep
And crossed the road of the uneasy.
The grey dog leapt at my entrails.
Jesus, call him off.
Lo! the Great One answers. Track him down!
Kill him in his unclean house.
Down the road of the uneasy
You track the grey dog home
To his house in the heart of a traitor,
A thief, a murderer of dreams.
And you kill him there with one stroke,
Crying: Jesus, is this well done?
That your sleep be not as a cemetery
Where dogs creep unclean.'

poem by Tony Chabaputa
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Grey

Grey road stretched through grey rain.
Grey rain fell though grey mist.
Grey mist enveloped all,
all the eye could see,
all the land,
all the sky
and me.
Grey covered all,
all the way down to the sea.

Glimpsed through grey the swell of the ocean,
riding the waves a wind surfer surfing,
chopping, fighting the crests with swift motion
skirting the spray, sail unfurling.
Stopping, I stared at that sight in the mist,
oh how he came dancing over the sea,
right through the rain a state of sheer bliss,
the wondrous frolic rippling throughout me
making me tingle right down deep inside.
That misty image ripped all grey apart
a glorious vision of freedom untied,
returning tremendous joy to my heart
filling me up, bringing tears to my eyes,
emerging from grey a great love of life.

poem by Diana Rosser
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The Long Road

And I wished for so long cannot stay
All the precious moments cannot stay
It's not like wings have fallen cannot stay
But still something's missing I cannot say yea
Holding hands are daughters and sons
And their faiths are falling down down down down
I have wished for so long
How I wish for you today

Will I walk the long road the long road
Cannot stay the long road
There's no need to say goodbye say goodbye
All the friends and family
All the memories going round round round
I have wished for so long
How I wish for you today

And the wind keeps roarin'
And the sky keeps turning grey
And the sun is setting
The sun won't rise another day

I have wished for so long
How I wish for you today
I have wished for so long
How I wish for you today
Will I walk the long road
We all walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
We all walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
We all walk the long road
Will I walk the long road
We all walk the long road
Will I walk the long road

song performed by by Pearl Jam from Merkinball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Grey World

Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.

Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.

Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.

poem by Leon Gellert
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The Lady in Grey

On this road, I did meet,
In the wee hours, a lady,
frail and petit.

I spoke to her softly,
and bid her good day.

This little old lady,
all dressed in grey.

Just a slight nod, was her
greeting you see,
as she continued her walk,
up the hill past me.

I had to know, on this very night,
why this lady in grey, gave me
such a fright.

I turned my head quickly,
to ask her, her name
but gone was the lady,
I had met in the rain.

This story you see, really is
true.
fore I met her that morning,
around the hour of two.

The lady in grey, was Mrs.
Metler, you see,
a lady from a time, long
before you and me.

Dec.01 2012

poem by Earl Spencer
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Grey, Grey Sky

Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.

And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.

And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.

My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.

And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.

But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.

poem by Grace Hutton
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Grey Wolves Grey

The Russian march is soft and slow,
Through dust and heat, or slush and snow,
When the Russian skies hang grey and low
To the frontiers far where the Russians go;
And they march to-night and they march to-day
Like the grey wolves grey, like the grey wolves grey.
Nor song nor sound their track reveals,
Save the ceaseless “clock” of the waggon wheels;
But a rift in the mist shows a glint of sun
On the long, dark shape of a toiling gun;
And they strain by night and they drag by day
To a distant goal, like the grey wolves grey.

As the horses toil at the ends of trains,
And the ends of roads on the Blacksoil Plains.
And Ivan digs in the frozen clay,
And he rolls the logs a bed to lay
For a gun that’s five hundred miles away,
But as sure to come as the grey wolves grey.

He is marching on with a purpose grand,
For brother Slav in another land;
Whose tongue, perchance, he cannot understand.—
But he knows the cry from the far-away,
And he smells the blood like the grey wolves grey.

And Ivan’s wife in her den at home,
While hunger looms and his lean wolves come—
With her grey-black bread like the Darling mud,
And her tea-bricks bound with the bullock’s blood—
She shields her cubs by night and day
Like the crouching sluts of the grey wolves grey.

And I march with Ivan where’er he be,
With the foreign blood that is strong in me,
And the love and the hate that is fantasy,
Like the ghosts of a father’s memory.
With the blood that is strange to us to-day
As the strange wild blood of the grey wolves grey.
Grey wolves,
Grey wolves—
The strange wild blood of the grey wolves grey.

poem by Henry Lawson
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Shades of Grey

Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare

White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed

Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo

Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art

© 2011

poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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A-Roving

WHEN the sap runs up the tree.
And the vine runs o’er the wall,
When the blossom draws the bee,
From the forest comes a call,
Wild, and clear, and sweet, and strange,
Many-tongued and murmuring
Like the river in the range—
’Tis the joyous voice of Spring!
On the boles of grey, old trees,
See the flying sunbeams play
Mystic, soundless melodies—
A fantastic march and gay;
But the young leaves hear them—hark
How they rustle, every one!—
And the sap beneath the bark
Hearing, leaps to meet the sun.

Oh, the world is wondrous fair
When the tide of life’s at flood!
There is magic in the air,
There is music in the blood;
And a glamour draws us on
To the distance, rainbow-spanned,
And the road we tread upon
Is the road to Fairyland.

Lo! the elders hear the sweet
Voice, and know the wondrous song;
And their ancient pulses beat
To a tune forgotten long;
And they talk in whispers low,
With a smile and with a sigh,
Of the years of long ago,
And the roving days gone by.

poem by Victor James Daley
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Road to Heaven

The road to heaven is laden with a trail of tears

A patchy path of peaks and troughs pattered by dust

Straightly bounded road but blinded by the mist

Devoured within the seas of illusions

So the road of heaven is hardly troded on

A lonely road, boring road absent of pride

Accesible by all; refused by many

No money needed to pay

No degrees sought to stay

The road to heaven is a free high way

Just a will to endure

a heart so richly pure

poem by Godfrey Morris
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Once A Road

I am a road
Long ago well tread,
Those who upon me have ever travelled
Are now amongst the dead -

None anymore trod my path
Nor this way pass,
I alone every day
Continue wandering upon my way -

Once I was a road
Moving big and heavy loads,
Now merely a trail
No one recalls my tale -

But I know somewhere way out there
Miles away where few can see,
Over the hill, beyond the bend
Is a fellow drifter... looking for me -

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Further On

Where the road is dark
and the seat is soaked
where the gun is cocked
and the bullet's cold
where the miles are marked in blood and gold
I'll meet you further on up the road
Got on my dead man's suit
and my smilin' skull ring
my lucky graveyard boots
and a song to sing
I got a song to sing, keep me out of the cold
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
further on up the road
where the way is dark
and the night is cold
but one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Well I been out in the desert
was doin' my time
searching through the dust
looking for a sign
if there's a light up ahead
well, buddy, I don't know
but I got this fever
burning in my soul
so let's take the good times as they come
and I'll meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
further on up the road
where the way is dark
and the night is cold
one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
one sunny morning we'll rise, I know
and I'll meet you further on up the road
yeah I'll meet you further on up the road
well I'll meet you further on up the road

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mans Road

Written by jimmy webb, 1982
Found on the last unicorn soundtrack and your move (french import only).
Horizon rising up to meet the purple dawn
Dust demon screaming, bring an eagle to lead me on
For in my heart I carry such a heavy load
Here I am on mans road, walking mans road, walking mans road
Im hungry, weary, but I cannot lay me down
The rain comes, dreary, but theres no shelter I have found
It will be a long time till I find my abode
Here I am on mans road, walking mans road
Moon rising, disguising lonely streets in gay displays
The stars fade, the night shade falls and makes the world afraid
It waits in silence for the sky to explode
Here I am on mans road, walking mans road, walking mans road
Walking mans road, walking mans road, walking mans road

song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Further On (Up The Road)

Where the road is dark
And the seat is soaked
Where the gun is cocked
And the bullets cold
Where the miles are marked in blood and gold
Ill meet you further on up the road
Got on my dead mans suit
And my smilin skull ring
My lucky graveyard boots
And a song to sing
I got a song to sing, keep me out of the cold
And Ill meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
Further on up the road
Where the way is dark
And the night is cold
But one sunny morning well rise, I know
And Ill meet you further on up the road
Well I been out in the desert
Was doin my time
Searching through the dust
Looking for a sign
If theres a light up ahead
Well, buddy, I dont know
But I got this fever
Burning in my soul
So lets take the good times as they come
And Ill meet you further on up the road
Further on up the road
Further on up the road
Where the way is dark
And the night is cold
One sunny morning well rise, I know
And Ill meet you further on up the road
One sunny morning well rise, I know
And Ill meet you further on up the road
Yeah Ill meet you further on up the road
Well Ill meet you further on up the road

song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Road to Avignon

A Minstrel stands on a marble stair,
Blown by the bright wind, debonair;
Below lies the sea, a sapphire floor,
Above on the terrace a turret door
Frames a lady, listless and wan,
But fair for the eye to rest upon.
The minstrel plucks at his silver strings,
And looking up to the lady, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.

The octagon tower casts a shade
Cool and gray like a cutlass blade;
In sun-baked vines the cicalas spin,
The little green lizards run out and in.
A sail dips over the ocean's rim,
And bubbles rise to the fountain's brim.
The minstrel touches his silver strings,
And gazing up to the lady, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.

Slowly she walks to the balustrade,
Idly notes how the blossoms fade
In the sun's caress; then crosses where
The shadow shelters a carven chair.
Within its curve, supine she lies,
And wearily closes her tired eyes.
The minstrel beseeches his silver strings,
And holding the lady spellbound, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.

Clouds sail over the distant trees,
Petals are shaken down by the breeze,
They fall on the terrace tiles like snow;
The sighing of waves sounds, far below.
A humming-bird kisses the lips of a rose
Then laden with honey and love he goes.
The minstrel woos with his silver strings,
And climbing up to the lady, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.

Step by step, and he comes to her,
Fearful lest she suddenly stir.
Sunshine and silence, and each to each,
The lute and his singing their only speech;
He leans above her, her eyes unclose,
The humming-bird enters another rose.
The minstrel hushes his silver strings.
Hark! The beating of humming-birds' wings!
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the bridge to Avignon,
One morning in the spring.

poem by Amy Lowell
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Lonely Road

Too much time thinking about all of my mistakes
My heart, my mind, my soul, my body ache
A hunger for, the loving arms of your embrace
I walk along the lonely road
I walk along the lonely road
My back is strong, girl
I carry the load
All the grinding time I pay the debt that's owed
I walk along the lonely road
Too much time thinking about everything that went wrong
I cry my eyes out every time I hear your song
I hope this path brings me back where I belong
I walk along the lonely road
I walk along the lonely road
My back is strong, girl
I carry the load
All the grinding time I pay the debt that's owed
I walk along the lonely road
Too much pride, for me to up and take the blame
Weep inside girl it's killing me with pain
Every night, I sleep I call your name
I walk along the lonely road
I walk along the lonely road
My back is strong girl
I carry the load
All the grinding time I pay the debt that's owed
I walk along the lonely road
I walk along the lonely road
My back is strong girl
I carry the load
All the grinding time I pay the debt that's owed
I walk along the lonely road
I walk along the lonely road
I walk along the lonely road

song performed by by Everlast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grey land traveller

One day in summer
when the freeway is open,
I will take the Honda
and turn the accelerator open
until the revolution counter
touches the red.

One day I will see
what my motorbike is able to do
when I drive from here to Cape Town
with all the power that it has
and see how the speed needle
goes past the last mark.

One day I will feel
it roaring under me
and cut lightning fast
past cars, pickups and lorries
and speed will make
that it seems
as if I am coming out of the road itself
and I will be like a spectre.

One day I will really know
how much power my motorbike has
and will be part of the wind,
the sun and freedom
and the road will belong to me
and I to the road.

One day time will stop for me
and I might never reach the Cape
and will drive into the grey land
and maybe you
will read about me in the newspapers
and a motorbike
that lies in pieces for a distance of kilometres.

poem by Gert Strydom
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