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The Garden Of Epicurus

That Garden of sedate Philosophy
Once flourished, fenced from passion and mishap,
A shining spot upon a shaggy map;
Where mind and body, in fair junction free,
Luted their joyful concord; like the tree
From root to flowering twigs a flowing sap.
Clear Wisdom found in tended Nature's lap
Of gentlemen the happy nursery.
That Garden would on light supremest verge,
Were the long drawing of an equal breath
Healthful for Wisdom's head, her heart, her aims.
Our world which for its Babels wants a scourge,
And for its wilds a husbandman, acclaims
The crucifix that came of Nazareth.

poem by George Meredith
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The Sun

O Sun! The world's essence and motivator you are
The organizer of the book of the world you are

The splendor of existence has been created by you
The verdure of the garden of existence depends on you

The spectacle of elements is maintained by you
The exigency of life in all is maintained by you

Your appearance confers stability on everything
Your illumination and concord is completion of life

You are the sun which establishes light in the world
Which establishes heart, intellect, essence and wisdom

O Sun! Bestow on us the light of wisdom
Bestow your luster's light on the intellect's eye

You are the decorator of necessaries of existence' assemblage
You are the Yazdan of the denizens of the high and the low

Your excellence is reflected from every living thing
The mountain range also shows your elegance

You are the sustainer of the life of all
You are the king of the light's children

There is no beginning and no end of yours
Free of limits of time is the light of yours

poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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My Garden Fair

Flowers are blooming in
my garden fair. Their
sweet perfume fills the
air. My Garden fair is
beautiful to see., with all
its glory surrounding me.
My garden fair is romantic
and bright, and so redeeming
in sunlight where song birds
nestle in the trees, and sing
with each flowing breeze.
My garden fair is a glorious
sight, that I rush to greet
at twilight my garden fair is
most supreme with such lovely
enchanting scenes.

poem by Dr. Janice Marie Murrell
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Raise Your Head Fearlessly Above Shade!

Look at the Nature around,
whether trees and plants know or not,
Their roots surly know,
water that quench their thirst,
where they can find minerals for growth,
Are in this soil and in the Nature!

Animals live in nature's garden,
birds and butterfly,
Know where they can be happy!

O man, know for sure
tender plants with tender roots,
Need shade and care,
no tree can grow under shade of another tree,
Come out of shades and shadows,
Once roots become firm,
once you absorb essence wanted,
Raise your head fearlessly above shades,
Breath the fresh air Rain and sunshine,
feel the heat and cold to become free,
The potential is there in you,
Open the packet of reasoning and wisdom,
Never bury it,
What Almighty had embedded in your heart!

The fountain of infinite bliss is within you,
Never thereafter you feel thirsty,
More you can share the fruits,
With that sweet knowledge,
Whoever thirsty can sip it till his own roots grow,
You are done,
you have done!

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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The world is a garden of philosophy. God is the gardener. Man is the visitor. And any tree that does not bear fruits of philosophy either does not belong to that garden or is yet to be grown.

quote by Kedar Joshi
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Clearer is better than Clever!

Wonderful is that mind,
One with the heart where Purest among pure shines,
Knowledge gained is mere reflection,
Knowledge is that mud under the lake,
Where the lotus of wisdom has its roots,
Raising above the polluted mind,
Raising above the pollution of surroundings,
Reflecting the eternal;
The eternal beauty of eternal Truth,
The long evolution of that nothing blowing itself,
Blooming into everything,
Developing eyes to heart,
May be seeing world through compassionate and loving heart!

Vission to mind, setting ideals and goals,
Mastering the mind and body,
By well trained and disciplined mind,
Winning mind by mind itself!

Intelligence and wit,
Guided by virtues,
Love and compassion,
Seeing same Truth shining everywhere,
Shining in everyone!

Nothing I am unless I keep myself clean and clear,
Healthy, worthy and wealthy
All are good for one who is good,
Every vission is clear if one's mind and heart are clear,
When knowledge purified by selflessnes,
Words, deeds integrate with thought,
Thought is the root of Lotus of good words,
Where in the seeds of deeds develop!

Born as nothing out of nothing,
One who adopts good virtues,
Senses bloom with fragrance of sensibility,
Sensibility becomes worship,
Reflected in work,
When work become worship,
Deeds become selfless,
More and more sensibility polishes intelligence,
Intelligence shine with knowledge,
Knowledge glows as wisdom,
And wisdom adorned by love and compassion,
Self Glorified into eternal Beauty,
Sathyam,
Shivam,
Sundaram!

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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song performed by by Yolanda Adams
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Shining Star

song performed by by Yolanda Adams
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The Garden

A Garden contemplation suits,
And may instruction yield,
Sweeter than all the flow'rs and fruits
With which the spot is filled.

Eden was Adam's dwelling place,
While blest with innocence;
But sin o'erwhelmed him with disgrace,
And drove the rebel thence.

Oft as the garden-walk we tread,
We should bemoan his fall;
The trespass of our legal head
In ruin plunged us all.

The garden of Gethsemane,
The second Adam saw,
Oppressed with woe, to set us free
From the avenging law.

How stupid we, who can forget,
With gardens in our sight,
His agonies and bloody sweat,
In that tremendous night.

His church as a fair garden stands,
Which walls of love enclose;
Each tree is planted by his hand,
And by his blessing grows.

Believing hearts are gardens too,
For grace has sown its seeds;
Where once, by nature, nothing grew
But thorns and worthless weeds.

Such themes to those who Jesus love,
May constant joys afford;
And make a barren desert prove
The garden of the Lord.

poem by John Newton
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Pure Egg.... (Break The Shell)

even the light we see
is merely the echo of light....
we always want to 'go there'...
never realizing we 'are there'...
we long for heaven,
heaven is within us.
we say, 'i found god'...
but god was not lost!
we search for wisdom,
while plodding barefoot
through the wisdom of ages.
we fight to be free,
not realizing,
we are inherently free...
we long to love another,
yet we are love.
what we are,
and what we know we are...
therein lies the problem!
if the leaf is the tree,
and the tree is the earth,
and the earth is sun and rain...
then are we not all of these?
break the eggshell,
what pours forth is egg,
pure egg!
break the shell!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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In The Love Garden

In the garden where Love

Could be found

I found a beautiful Princess

Whose Love I share.

Inside the garden where Roses

Could be found

I found a mighty Angel

Whose Love is mine

Within the garden where Love

Could be found

I found a white Flower

Whose beauty is that of a bride

Between the garden where Love

Could be found

I found a mighty princess Diana

Whose heart I share

Underneath the garden where Love

Could be found

I found a charming Diamond

Whose charm is that of my Love

And

Outside the garden where Love

Could be found

I found me a Lover

Whose heart is mine!

And

Inside the garden where Love

Could be found

I found me a pen

And write this lovely ballad for my babe!

poem by Olawale Idowu
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Nature Trail

At the bottom of my garden
There's a hedgehog and a frog
And a lot of creepy-crawlies
Living underneath a log,
There's a baby daddy long legs
And an easy-going snail
And a family of woodlice,
All are on my nature trail.

There are caterpillars waiting
For their time to come to fly,
There are worms turning the earth over
As ladybirds fly by,
Birds will visit, cats will visit
But they always chose their time
And I've even seen a fox visit
This wild garden of mine.

Squirrels come to nick my nuts
And busy bees come buzzing
And when the night time comes
Sometimes some dragonflies come humming,
My garden mice are very shy
And I've seen bats that growl
And in my garden I have seen
A very wise old owl.

My garden is a lively place
There's always something happening,
There's this constant search for food
And then there's all that flowering,
When you have a garden
You will never be alone
And I believe we all deserve
A garden of our own.

poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XXXII)

To answer Job, the three men ceased;
Their arguments hadn’t Job appeased;
Kindled was Elihu’s anger;
Job’s views had gone a bit stranger.

Job staunchly said that he was right;
He proved it all in his own light;
Could man be right and God be wrong?
Yet, conclude one must any song!

The three had not convinced Job well;
‘Wrong was his stance, ’ they could not tell;
The three were older but got tamed;
Elihu’s wrath became inflamed.

The son of Barachel then said,
‘I’m young and you are an old head;
And so, I was afraid to speak
And share my views, with you, all meek;

Your years should have taught you wisdom;
But God has given you freedom;
The breath of God (man’s spirit) gives
Understanding, by which he lives.

’Tis not that days can make one wise;
’Tis not that man is free of vice;
Nor aged understand what’s right;
So, heed to what I say: See light!

I heard your arguments so far,
And conclusion of your word-war;
I followed all who spoke with care;
To convince Job, no one did dare!

None could refute what Job had said;
Don’t say we’ve met a wisdom-head;
Had he addressed his words to me,
I would have spoken differently

Now that you’ve spoken for your part,
I wish to open up my heart;
I want to speak a lot of things,
So, let me say what my heart brings!

My spirit compels from within,
Like pressure from anew wineskin;
I’m on verge of bursting out,
Let me hence speak and clear your doubt.

I won’t be partial to someone,
And neither will I flatter one;
And if I did, I know my God
Will take my life away by rod!

poem by John Celes
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The Last Lovely Rose Of The Fall

Her pink petals lay on the short grass beside the red brick garden wall
By the thorny mother that bore her the last lovely rose of the Fall
White butterflies flit in the garden in the warm sunshine of mid day
And the shrike thrush he pipes on a low branch in his cloak of light brown to gray,
The rose tree has lost her last and her finest daughter next year new roses she will bear
And the rose tree in her flowers does look lovely than her there is none quite so fair
And her flowers they must return to Nature and on Nature's bosom decay
And the rose tree herself sooner or later must return to Nature one day,
The dark willy wagtail he sits on the brick wall his long black tail he wags to and fro
For him 'tis a very good Season on butterlies fat he does grow
Each life form serves a purpose in Nature for one to live one has to die
And what comes from Nature goes back to Nature and the same goes for you and for i
The pink rose petals lay on the grass by their mother on this warm March day in the Fall
And of all of the flowers in the garden in bloom she was the fairest of all.

poem by Francis Duggan
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In the spring garden

In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden

poem by Matthew Holloway
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Mind of Her own

You can be direct...
With or without male contact...
You see the past...
And the future as well...
But still in me you dwell...
Causing me to swell...
You, moan and softly yell...
You are direct...mostly for you
It's costly...
Like that day; you went to explore...
The garden...
Your directness has you and I...
Band to earth's woes...
As man and woman.
All the birds and butterflies...
Cried.
No one knew you had such pride.
Satan evens regret his move...
Satan never consider your...
Direct mood.
Satan touched your softness...
And was hooked.
You shared it with me...
I was well took...
It is all wrote down in the book...
Even God was shook...
Your beauty and wisdom cook...
Your respect...
Made you and I rejects...
Now you secretly rule the world...
Giving your love briefly...
At some moments...
And to the brim at other times...
Directing man, by his spine.
Oh! you are good,
With the garden in you...
Allowing man to plant...
Down the road allowing him to pant.
Then man chants...
A song of your sovereignty...
Which is given by God...
For mans tree.
You woman have a mind of your own...
You are truly mans home...
There is much concerning you...
And your garden, I do not understand...
As Man.
And when my spirit was running...
I understood you not.
Your garden...
Your garden...
Is none stop...
The freedom of your mind...
Holds me ever so close...
And...yet so farrr.

poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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My Childhood Garden

my childhood garden

my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden

poem by Danielle Eager
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In the Garden, With My Father

It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.

I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.

But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.

It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Love Street

She lives on love street
Lingers long on love street
She has a house and garden
I would like to see what happens
She has robes and she has monkeys
Lazy diamond studded flunkies
She has wisdom and knows what to do
She has me and she has you
She has wisdom and knows what to do
She has me and she has you
I see you live on love street
Theres this store where the creatures meet
I wonder what they do in there
Summer sunday and a year
I guess I like it fine, so far
She lives on love street
Lingers long on love street
She has a house and garden
I would like to see what happens
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Disgarded Garden

Their once was a young man who wanted to become a Gardner. There once was a young Rose Tree that wanted a Gardener. They met each other one summer day and began what seemed to be a beautiful relationship. The Gardner was attentive of his garden along with his Rose Tree and the Rose Tree was so happy that its tender branches grew and it bloomed continuously for the Gardner so he’d always be happy.

As time went by the Rose Tree noticed that Gardner wouldn’t tend to her as much as he once did. And when he did he would cut away harshly at the Rose Tree. The Rose Tree being a simple plant who did not need much attention still bloomed for the Gardner. It seemed the more she tried, the more the Gardner would cut away and the tree was now nestled in the ground. Why could this be? He had a bountiful garden that any Gardner would have loved to have. What more could anyone want thought the Rose Tree.

Now in an abandoned garden the Rose Tree grows back its branches, with very thick thorn’s to protect it self. As time goes by one day, out of nowhere appears a Gardener who has silently admired the Rose Tree from outside the garden gates and begins to nurture the Rose Tree in her garden. He tenderly and sympathetically pulls away all the weeds and brush from the Rose Tree so the air, rain & sunshine can reach her again. Allowing her the opportunity to grow back as she once was; vibrant, strong, colorful and to be simply, herself.

This is something the Rose Tree had long forgotten and is very grateful for the loving words of encouragement and kindness that her new Gardner has shown. She longingly awaits for his visits and when the Gardner comes to see her she bloom’s for him and relaxes underneath his beautifully kind smile. My darling Gardner, I am glad fate has brought you to walk along the path leading to the once lost garden and Rose Tree.

poem by Sarah Barron
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‘Like a brazier’s bronze cinders,’

Like a brazier’s bronze cinders,
the sleepy garden’s beetles flowing.
Level with me, and my candle,
a flowering world is hanging.

As if into unprecedented faith,
I cross into this night,
where the poplar’s beaten grey
veils the moon’s rim from sight.

Where the pond’s an open secret,
where apple-trees whisper of waves,
where the garden hanging on piles,
holds the sky before its face.

poem by Boris Pasternak
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

The Garden Of Epicurus

Related quotes

The Sun

My Garden Fair

Raise Your Head Fearlessly Above Shade!

Clearer is better than Clever!

Shining Star

Shining Star

The Garden

Pure Egg.... (Break The Shell)

In The Love Garden

Nature Trail

Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XXXII)

The Last Lovely Rose Of The Fall

In the spring garden

Mind of Her own

My Childhood Garden

In the Garden, With My Father

Love Street

The Disgarded Garden

‘Like a brazier’s bronze cinders,’

En.Citatepedia^®.ro