Against the dark blue of irises the sky has but a pale hue (Persian quatrain)
(After C. Louis Leipoldt)
Against the dark blue of irises the sky has but a pale hue
in times of war blood flows to the earth as it is due
and the pain and suffering that sacrifice brings
is quite dim against that left by words that are untrue.
[Reference: "Teen die blou van jakarandas is die blou van die lug maar bleek" (Against the blue of jacarandas the blue of the sky is bleak) by C. Louis Leipoldt.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Morning Glories
Let Leipoldt write about violets
which are in the field,
I have my own flower
or weed that I adore
and it’s Sunspots
that grows out of the good earth.
You can call it a pest
or a weed,
but I am nuts about the heavenly blue
full of blue flowers that creep everywhere
and push twines out in all directions
Purple cardinal climbers
that climb up everywhere
and after the rain
burst out in all directions
stays a beautiful flower to me.
[Reference: Morning Glories=Sunspots=Heavenly Blue=Cardinal Climber. C.L. Leipoldt’s poem Oktobermaand.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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When One Soul Was In Both Our Thoughts
When one soul was in both our thoughts,
we were together at the bright blue ocean,
where you joyously did swim,
gave me a passionate kiss, where we did embrace,
while only the same things inspired us both;
the heaven was a kind of cobalt blue,
together we did kneel, we did pray,
together we trusted on the power of God
while we were in love with each other.
[Reference: 'Wys my die plek waar ons saam gestaan het' ('Show me the place where we stood together: ') by C. Louis Leipoldt.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blow, Northern Wind
ICHOT a burde in boure bryht,
That fully semly is on syht,
Menskful maiden of myht;
Feir ant fre to fonde;
In al this wurhliche won
A burde of blod ant of bon
Never yete y nuste non
Lussomore in londe.
Blou northerne wynd!
Send thou me my suetyng!
Blou northerne wynd! blou, blou, blou!
With lokkes lefliche ant longe,
With frount ant face feir to fonge,
With murthes monie mote heo monge,
That brid so breme in boure.
With lossom eye grete ant gode,
With browen blysfol under hode,
He that reste him on the Rode,
That leflych lyf honoure.
Blou northerne wynd, etc.
Hire lure lumes liht,
Ase a launterne a nyht,
Hire bleo blykyeth so bryht.
So feyr heo is ant fyn.
A suetly swyre heo hath to holde,
With armes shuldre ase mon wolde,
Ant fingres feyre forte folde,
God wolde hue were myn!
Blou northerne wynd, etc.
Heo is coral of godnesse,
Heo is rubie of ryhtfulnesse,
Heo is cristal of clannesse,
Ant baner of bealte.
Heo is lilie of largesse,
Heo is parvenke of prouesse,
Heo is solsecle of suetnesse,
Ant lady of lealte.
For hire love y carke ant care,
For hire love y droupne ant dare,
For hire love my blisse is bare
Ant al ich waxe won,
For hire love in slep y slake,
For hire love al nyht ich wake,
For hire love mournynge y make
More then eny mon.
Blou northerne wynd!
Send thou me my suetyng!
Blou northerne wynd! blou, blou, blou!
The Egg-Shell
The wind took off with the sunset--
The fog came up with the tide,
When the Witch of the North took an Egg-shell
With a little Blue Devil inside.
"Sink," she said, "or swim," she said,
"It's all you will get from me.
And that is the finish of him!" she said
And the Egg-shell went to sea.
The wind fell dead with the midnight--
The fog shut down like a sheet,
When the Witch of the North heard the Egg-shell
Feeling by hand for a fleet.
"Get!" she said, "or you're gone," she said.,
But the little Blue Devil said "No!
"The sights are just coming on," he said,
And he let the Whitehead go.
The wind got up with the morning--
The fog blew off with the rain,
When the Witch of the North saw the Egg-shell
And the little Blue Devil again.
"Did you swim?" she said. "Did you sink?" she said,
And the little Blue Devil replied:
"For myself I swam, but I think," he said,
"There's somebody sinking outside."
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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After
"How fared you when you mortal were?
What did you see on my peopled star?"
"Oh well enough," I answered her,
"It went for me where mortals are!
"I saw blue flowers and the merlin's flight
And the rime on the wintry tree,
Blue doves I saw and summer light
On the wings of the cinnamon bee."
poem by Ralph Hodgson
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Dark Trinity
Said I to Pain: "You would not dare
Do ill to me."
Said Pain: "Poor fool! Why should I care
Whom you may be?
To clown and king alike I bring
My meed of bane;
Why should you shirk my chastening?"
Said Pain.
Said I to Grief: "No tears have I,
Go on your way."
Said Grief: "Why should I pass you by,
While others pay?
All men must know the way of woe,
From saint to thief,
And tears were meant to overflow,"
Said Grief.
Said I to Death: "From ail and fret
Grant me relief."
Said Death: "I know you are beset
By Pain and Grief.
But my good will you must await
Since human breath
To suffering is consecrate,"
Said Death.
Said I to God: "Pale Sister Grief,
Bleak Brother Pain,
Bedevil me beyond belief,
And Death's unfain . . ."
Said God: "Curse not that blessed Three,
Poor human clod!
Have faith! Believe the One with Me,"
Said God.
poem by Robert William Service
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Ocean Blue
Well you took me home
And you took me back
But deep down inside
The feeling just died and i
Couldnt see why
From indigo to royal blue
I travel far but no one will do
Anytime, anyplace
Every shape every face
Brings memories of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Fair weather friends might drift away
When summer ends and skies burn grey
So I walk to the ocean
Pilot these shores
Just thinking of you
Its time we kissed the clouds goodbye
From now on its strictly blue sky
Come rain and shine
The outlook is still fine
Im thinking of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean ocean
Ocean, ocean
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
I stand at the head of the queue
Theres mutinys every crew
Wishin and wonderin bout you
Ocean blue
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Zombie
(after C Louis Leipoldt)
His skin was pulled thin
and his face was pale like that of a skeleton
and it was in my direction that he was marching,
looking cold like gravestone he was coming on.
His eyes lacked all energy of life
and his body did not look as if build out of flesh
while his legs folded out like a clasping knife
but some energy this foul thing did possess
but it had a kind of sense and sensing
which was full of evilness
although it was walking like a sleeping thing,
but it had some kind of aloofness.
It was passing under a streetlight
and I was wondering if it did from some grave crawl?
I was stunned at its strange sight
while it looked as if searching for a brawl.
Two old people at its feet did lie
where from fear they did pass out
as they were afraid to die
and a well build man in fear at it did shout
but to the square it went on its way
and did not look at me while it was passing
while children who did in the street play
in fear at it was glancing.
In the square a crowd was gathering,
and those people wanted peace,
while veterans were speaking against war and killing
and as it did approach everything did cease.
Some women did pray and others did weep
but I wanted to know who this Zombie was?
Away from it every one tried to keep
while its eyes sparkled like glass.
One elderly man shook his head
and honoured the thing that was almost dead
and I shouted: “Who is this? ”
“It’s the president, ” he replied to my dread.
[Reference: “The Zombie” by C. Louis Leipoldt.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Pale Blue Eyes
Sometimes I feel so happy
Sometimes I feel so sad
Sometimes I feel so happy
But mostly you just make me mad
Baby, you just make me mad
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Thought of you as my mountain top
Thought of you as my peak
A thought of you as everything
Ive had, but couldnt keep
Ive had, but couldnt keep
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Skip a life completely
Stuff it in a cup
They said, money is like us in time
It lies, but cant stand up
Down for you is up
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
It was good what we did yesterday
And Id do it once again
The fact that you are married
Only proves youre my best friend
But its truly, truly a sin
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
If I could make the world as pure
And strange as what I see
Id put you in a mirror
Id put in front of me
Id put in front of me
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
Linger on your pale blue eyes
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gardener XXVII: Trust Love
"Trust love even if it brings sorrow.
Do not close up your heart."
"Ah no, my friend, your words are
dark, I cannot understand them."
"Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop,
while it laughs it dies. But sorrow is
strong and abiding. Let sorrowful
love wake in your eyes."
"Ah no, my friend, your words are
dark, I cannot understand them."
"The lotus blooms in the sight of
the sun, and loses all that it has. It
would not remain in bud in the
eternal winter mist."
"Ah no, my friend, your words are
dark, I cannot understand them."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Ruined Maid
"O 'Melia, my dear, this does everything crown!
Who could have supposed I should meet you in Town?
And whence such fair garments, such prosperi-ty?"-
"O didn't you know I'd been ruined?" said she.
-"You left us in tatters, without shoes or socks,
Tired of digging potatoes, and spudding up docks;
And now you've gay bracelets and bright feathers three!"-
"Yes: that's how we dress when we're ruined," said she.
-"At home in the barton you said 'thee' and 'thou,'
And 'thik oon' and 'theäs oon' and 't'other'; but now
Your talking quite fits 'ee for high compan-ny!"-
"Some polish is gained with one's ruin," said she.
-"Your hands were like paws then, you face blue and bleak
But now I'm bewitched by your delicate cheek,
And your little gloves fit as on any la-dy!"-
"We never do work when we're ruined," said she.
-"You used to call home-life a hag-ridden dream,
And you'd sigh, and you'd sock; but at present you seem
To know not of megrims or melancho-ly!"-
"True. One's pretty lively when ruined," said she.
-"I wish I had feathers, a fine sweeping gown,
And a delicate face, and could strut about Town"-
"My dear - raw country girl, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. You ain't ruined," said she.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Blue Me
Blue me, blue me
Blue is the color
That fits best on me
Im blue
Just as blue as can be
Blue me, blue me
I cry
And I die
I lie awake at night
And I question why
Must it be
I can never be free
Blue me, blue me
My heart is heavy
But its empty inside
No one to love me
Or to lay down beside
Im blue
The queen of sorrow
Wears royal blue
My luck aint changin
Is it ever goin to
Im blue, oh Im blue
Why must I wear this robe of blue misery
Blue me, blue me
Ooh
This sad old feeling
Is breakin me down
No satisfaction with these blues hangin round
Lord, Im blue
Oh, Im so blue
Why cant I shake it tell me where will this end
When will I get out of this blue rut Im in
Oh, Im blue
Looks like the blues just took a liking to me
Blue me, blue me
Blue me, blue me
Blue is the color that fits best on me
Ooooh, Im blue
Im just as blue as can be
Blue me,
Blue me
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Venevil
Fair Venevil hastened with tripping feet
Her lover to meet.
He sang, so it rang o'er the church far away:
"Good-day! Good-day!"
And all the little birds sang right merrily their lay:
"Midsummer Day
Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"
She twined him a wreath of the flowers blue:
"My eyes for you!"
He tossed it and caught it and to her did bend:
"Good-by, my friend!"
And loudly he exulted at the field's far distant end:
"Midsummer Day
Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"
She twined him a wreath: "Do at all you care
For my golden hair?"
She twined one, and gave in life's hour so rare
Her red lips' pair;
He took them and he pressed them, and he blushed as she did there.
She twined one all white as a lily-band:
"'T is my right hand."
She twined one blood-red, with her love in each strand:
"'T is my left hand."
He took them both and kept them both, but would not understand.
She twined of the flowers that bloomed around
"Every one I found!"
She gathered and twined, while tears would her eyes fill:
"Take them you will!"
In silence then he took them, but to flight he turned him still.
She twined one so large, of discordant hue:
"My bride's-wreath true!"
She twined it and twined, till her fingers were sore:
"Crown me, I implore!"
But when she turned, he was not there, she never saw him more.
She twined yet undaunted without a stay
At her bride's-array.
But now it was long past the Midsummer Day,
All the flowers away:
She twined it of the flowers, though they all were now away!
"Midsummer Day
Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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I will resist this injustice
Never will I like C.L. Leipoldt say:
“My country is not mine anymore;
my nation is dead from the struggle,
my courage is not heroic anymore -
God, please forgive me! ”
and although my people
now stay right over the world
and my country has been taken away
the struggle continues forever
as long as prayers go up
to God in heaven
who is almighty in control
and even during times of impossibility
practises His will.
as long as a Afrikaner
stand on his right
to lead a life
I will get a ray of hope
from somewhere
and as long as I am alive
I will resist
this unfairness.
[This is my translation of C.L. Leipoldt’s Afrikaans verse.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Two Schools
I put my heart to school
In the world, where men grow wise,
"Go out," I said, "and learn the rule;
Come back when you win a prize."
My heart came back again:
"Now where is the prize?" I cried. ----
"The rule was false, and the prize was pain,
And the teacher's name was Pride."
I put my heart to school
In the woods, where veeries sing,
And brooks run cool and clear;
In the fields, where wild flowers spring,
And the blue of heaven bends near.
"Go out," I said: "you are half a fool,
But perhaps they can teach you here."
"And why do you stay so long,
My heart, and where do you roam?"
The answer came with a laugh and a song, ---
"I find this school is home."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Blue
yo listen up here's a story
about a little guy that lives in a blue world
and all day and all night and everything he sees
is just blue like him inside and outside
blue his house with a blue little window
and a blue corvette
and everything is blue for him and hisself
and everybody around
cos he ain't got nobody to listen to
i'm blue da ba dee da ba die...
i have a blue house with a blue window.
blue is the colour of all that i wear.
blue are the streets and all the trees are too.
i have a girlfriend and she is so blue.
blue are the people here that walk around,
blue like my corvette, it's standing outside.
blue are the words i say and what i think.
blue are the feelings that live inside me.
i'm blue da ba dee da ba die...
song performed by by Eiffel 65
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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The Exile
We told her that her far off shore was bleak and dour to view,
And that her sky was dull and mirk while ours was smiling blue.
She only sighed in answer, "It is even as ye say,
But oh, the ragged splendor when the sun bursts through the gray!"
We brought her dew-wet roses from our fairest summer bowers,
We bade her drink their fragrance, we heaped her lap with flowers;
She only said, with eyes that yearned, "Oh, if ye might have brought
The pale, unscented blossoms by my father's lowly cot!"
We bade her listen to the birds that sang so madly sweet,
The lyric of the laughing stream that dimpled at our feet;
"But, O," she cried, "I weary for the music wild that stirs
When keens the mournful western wind among my native firs!"
We told her she had faithful friends and loyal hearts anear,
We prayed her take the fresher loves, we prayed her be of cheer;
"Oh, ye are kind and true," she wept, "but woe's me for the grace
Of tenderness that shines upon my mother's wrinkled face!"
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Little Boy Blue
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new
And the soldier was passing fair,
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.
"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamed of the pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue,--
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true.
Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through,
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.
poem by Eugene Field
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Dream
Once upon a time, I saw,
The daub sky has bend to touch
The lower heaven, the earth.
Some mysterious clouds has quarreled
And with a preserved manner, they,
Libation for him as a
Honorable leviathan.
A bunch of bryophytes, some crazy finches,
Have welcome him………with a
Filigree song of arrival.
The lapwings are enjoying in the lap
Of the blue's.
They want to know from him
From his theosophist members,
"is it your love? Is it our dream?
Blue says "plenary world is waiting for me
With a broken trust of past"
poem by Jayanta Banerjee
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