The swan (Terzanelle)
I saw a swan reflected on a pond
majestically with bended neck
with some little ones trailing beyond
speck upon speck
reflected on the glittering surface,
majestically with bended neck
as if sailing solemnly to efface
all doubt to its grace and splendour
reflected on the glittering surface
and emanating from the bird some warmth, some ardour
the tale of Andromache was reminded to me.
All doubt to its grace and splendour
was made insignificant by sheer beauty
and without mate with widowed grief
the tale of Andromache was reminded to me
who loved the hero Hector but brief.
I saw a swan reflected on a pond
and without mate with widowed grief
with some little ones trailing beyond.
[References: Les Fleurs du Mal: The Swan by Charles Pierre Baudelaire. The swan by Roy Campbell.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale.
From what land do you come,
O Swan? to what shore will you fly?
Where would you take your rest,
O Swan, and what do you seek?
Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me!
There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule:
where the terror of Death is no more.
There the woods of spring are a-bloom,
and the fragrant scent 'He is I' is borne on the wind:
There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed,
and desires no other joy.
The Swan ~ A Villanelle
Floating upon the crystal pond
She kept wearing her diamond crown
While the other white swan was gone
Never doubting their fierce loving bond
As the leaves went from reddish to brown
Floating upon the crystal pond
Her blue eyes searching far beyond
Couldn't see that he'd recently drowned
While the other white swan was gone
So curling, becoming withdrawn
When ten suns in the sky settled down
Floating upon the crystal pond
She talked to the geese that were blond
And asked where he was with a frown
While the other white swan was gone
They cared not and didn't respond
In the reeds was a kings golden crown
Floating upon the crystal pond
While the other white swan was gone
poem by Sara Fielder
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Just because swans mate for life, I don't think it's that big of a deal. First of all, if you're a swan, you're probably not going to find a swan that looks that much better than the one you've got, so why not mate for life
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reflected
Look upstanding with your head held high
You will be reflected
You looK outstanding with your eyes in disguise
Just beyond your glasses
Holy, how he would keep, it's devine
I'm surely glad, I'm surely over town
And even though I'm you will always here
Very rarely worry almost constantly
Could you be receptive
Our life's outstanding in a shower please
Wet my skins a plenty
Baby, what a day I love our town
I'm surely glad, I'm surely all around
And even since I knew it all so clear
You will be reflected
You will be reflected
You will be reflected
You will be reflected, reflected
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Swan And The Fawn
Finely Freckled Fawn called to Suave, Stately Swan,
“Please help me quickly. I need you to come on.
When I took a drink in the pond, what did I see?
But a poor little fawn drowning who looked just like me.”
Sir Swan explained “Be calm my dear and listen here.
It’s only your reflection.” he explained with affection.
“Each time you take a drink just think how you can smile,
As that pretty face looking at you is happy all the while.”
“Oh thank you Sir Swan.” said the grateful Freckled Fawn.
“All my fears and all my tears from now on will be gone.
Suave, Stately Swan and Finely Freckled Fawn are friends
Because of thoughtfulness and gratitude upon which friendship depends.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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In the Spirit of Rumi,31-The Swan
How beautiful the white swan,
gliding effortlessly, it seems,
the sunlight shining on those feathers
protecting its skin and body better
than do clothes protect a man!
White as if to proclaim God’s beauty mov ing
on the waters, like the first day of Creation,
it dips its carefully constructed neck so elegantly
to find its invisible food…
while invisibly too, under the surface,
its legs paddle hard and fast…
Who would dare to call the swan
a hypocrite because of this!
In India they call the saints
who seem to glide so effortlessly
through life, glide across our gaze
so that for a moment, we would be them…
call them Paramahansa, great swan..
who knows how hard a swan
finds its life, moving against a fierce current,
lifting its huge body into the air,
knowing direction more clearly than any man…
who knows how hard a saint
works invisibly all the time, has worked,
will work, eternally… for us,
watching on the river-bank of life
the river, itself yearning for the sea,
to lose itself in the vast harbour of the waters…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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To Be And So On
To Be or…
The swan on the lake doesn’t know it is a swan,
they say. How do they know? A swan may look
at us and say to another swan “Darling humans
don’t who they are.” Quite right my lovely, they
are daft that way” (swans have lot in common
with actors, the lake is their stage and we are
their adoring audience) I know that because Tom,
the only actor I have met in the flesh, called me
darling, well, not only me but everyone he spoke
to. Tom died no one calls me darling anymore.
We only think we know ourselves, if we really did
it would be too scary to know that inside us lurks
a monster.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Swan Song(dying sentence)
Remember me, remember my swan song,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live it all over again,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live that stain of my plastered smile again,
Let this be the last moment,
Let me say the last good-bye,
It won't count anything now,
So let me lay in silence,
Life has treated me well and I have had enough of it,
Lets end this game,
Enough of milling in and out,
Hear my swan song,
And let this end now,
I need to be away,
away from these thorns,
far far away,
Where you'll only see my memories,
my shadows,
my untold stories buried after me,
and my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
I feel like a fish out of water,
from pillar to post,
fallen back upon,
Let me be buried under sand,
let me give my final test,
I'll never return, its time to sing,
sing my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
maybe this moment or the other,
my soul would rest in peace,
before disappearing,
let me sing,
sing my swan song,
I only remember now the memory lived in me,
a perfectly encapsulated morsel,
of a good past,
from piebald brush strokes swaying,
to barren now, that I'd become,
As I'll say my last goodbye,
hear my swan song,
because now you'll never hear my voice again,
for ever and ever and ever...
Written on 5/6/11
poem by Ayesha Riaz
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A terzanelle to an island girl
On a island beach beguiling
I have met a lady by the water caressed,
slender, tiger eyed and smiling
with a warmth not guessed,
nobility moulded into every speck.
I have met a lady by the water caressed,
duskily from toe to neck,
with eyes burning into my heart,
nobility moulded into every speck,
awaking passion in every part,
as an image of charming glory
with eyes burning into my heart,
talking their own story
at our rendezvous
as an image of charming glory.
Girl, I met you
on a island beach beguiling
at our rendezvous
slender, tiger eyed and smiling.
[References: Les Fleurs du Mal: To a Colonial Lady by Charles Pierre Baudelaire. To a Colonial Lady by Roy Campbell.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Swan
Traffic jams, Concorde drones
TV's and radios drown me out
You won't change slamming doors
Temper, temper, that tongue of yours, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
Dumbells crash, babies cry
A thousand voices, mostly lies, drown me out
The underground, Marble Arch
The deafening snap of breaking hearts, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
Barking dogs, the lonely roam
The great unlaid making their way home, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
song performed by by Right Said Fred
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hope She's Ok
Everything was perfected and cemented for lack of a better word
She felt rejected,
she sat and reflected in thoughts of a better world.
Disrespected, rape-suspected, a life infected,
she was tragically objected.
With All hopes gone, her nights wont dawn,
her thoughts withdrawn from a life forgone
She spawned the beauty of a swan.
With all hopes gone she sighs and yawns…
poem by William Cobian
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Tell The Colors Of Devil!
When happiness is absorbed,
The harmony is not reflected.
When the innocence is stolen and absorbed,
The peace is not reflected.
When all good emotions are absorbed,
The useful actions are not reflected.
When all colors are absorbed to be black,
What goodness can be reflected?
Evils have many colors on the screen,
When colors of cruelty and sadism scream,
the skull and broken bones of human,
have become the symbol to threaten,
and warn the danger, red can flow,
to our minds to scare us to be nymphs,
all these colors have the right effect,
when it is dark and the sun is out.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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My Swan, Let us Fly
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land has an up-ended well
Whose mouth, narrow as a thread,
The married soul draws water from
Without a rope or pitcher.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
Clouds never cluster there,
Yet it goes on and on raining.
Don’t keep squatting outside in the yard –
Come in! Get drenched without a body!
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land is always soaked in moonlight;
Darkness can never come near it.
It is flooded always with the dazzle
Of not one, but a million suns.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
The Swan I Married Became a Moose
Crusted mustard breath,
I awakened to...
When I loved you.
String beans on your teeth,
I thought divine.
One time.
But when we got divorced,
I forced myself to really see...
How the Swan I married,
Became a Moose!
A big and wide behind,
I didn't mind to follow.
I thought it fantastic,
To climb on top.
When we made our version,
Of love.
But when we got divorced,
I forced myself to really see...
How the Swan I married,
Became a Moose!
I saw you recently,
I did not recognize you.
My eyes laid on your breasts,
And hips so fine.
But then you reminded me,
Of my ignorance.
And what that did to you.
You then left me looking stunning!
And I felt such the fool!
Crusted mustard breath,
I awakened to...
When I loved you.
String beans on your teeth,
I thought divine.
One time.
But when we got divorced,
I forced myself to really see...
How the Swan I married,
Became a Moose!
And that 'moose' today...
I wish I had not abused!
'Wow, dude?
WHO was that gorgeous woman you tried to hit on?
She's hot! '
That 'was' my ex-wife!
'Yeah, right.
Then one of us is a big liar.
You told me your ex-wife
Could be a side attraction at a circus! '
That was my ex-wife!
'Okay. Snap out of it! '
That was my ex-wife.
'Man, you okay?
Hey...
We all got our fantasies, right? '
Seriously,
That WAS my ex-wife!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Adair Welcker, Poet
The Swan of Avon died-the Swan
Of Sacramento'll soon be gone;
And when his death-song he shall coo,
Stand back, or it will kill you too.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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The Black Swans
In Iceland early one morning
A black swan without warning
Made a dramatic appearance
An extremely rare occurrence
It was actually the first of a series
That would raise many queries
Unexpectedly dreams were shattered
With Stock Markets getting battered
They called it a financial holocaust
The result of greed and blind trust
In unfettered capitalist manoeuvres
That made fools of gullible investors
Write offs and bail out plans followed
The bankers their pride finally swallowed
And set about changing their strategy
To cope with the crisis intelligently
But no one imagined that the Black Swan
Still lurking by and watching with scorn
Was waiting for an auspicious date
To announce the arrival of his mate
A second black swan sauntered in
This time with a bang and a lot of din
It spewed not fire works but smoke
Into the skies which did really choke
Not only Iceland but rest of Europe too
Flights were grounded and no one flew
The world watched in horror and fear
As the black ash blew out of the crater
Airports still look like a chaotic mess
Leaving stranded passengers in distress
Hopefully no baby swan will arrive with the stork
The adult pair having already caused enough havoc
NB: I have extended Nassim Nicholas Taleb's Black Swan Theory to describe the recent unparalleled catastrophes that hit a small country like Iceland
poem by Sandra Martyres
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Swan Lee
Swan lee got up at the running foot pow-wow,
Heading from the fire to his waiting canoe.
Chattering squaw untied the wigwam door,
The chief blew smoke rings two by two!
The land in silence stands...
Swan lee, his boat by the bank in the darkness,
Loosened the rope in the creek is entwined.
A feather from the wing of a wild young eagle,
Pointed to the land where his fortune he'd find
The land in silence stands
Swan lee paddled on from the land of his fathers,
His eyes scanned the undergrowth on either side.
From the shore hung a hot, heavy, creature infested
Tropic, swan lee had a bow by his side
The land in silence stands
Swan lee kept time, half on land, half on water,
Grizzly bear and raccoon his fare.
He followed his ears to the great water fall,
Swan lee knew deep down that his squaw was there!
The land in silence stands....
Suddenly the rush of the mighty great thunder,
Confronted swan lee as his song he sang,
In the dawn, with his squaw, he was battling homewards
It was all written down by long silas lang.
The land in silence stands...
The land in silence stands...
The land in silence stands.
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have had so many great moments, but I would have to say that dancing the Swan in 'Swan Lake' was such a unique and passionate experience for me. It was such bloody hard work, even at that very early age, that I would not want to try to replicate it again now.
quote by William Kempe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Swan-Neck
Evil sped the battle play
On the Pope Calixtus' day;
Mighty war-smiths, thanes and lords,
In Senlac slept the sleep of swords.
Harold Earl, shot over shield,
Lay along the autumn weald;
Slaughter such was never none
Since the Ethelings England won.
Thither Lady Githa came,
Weeping sore for grief and shame;
How may she her first-born tell?
Frenchmen stript him where he fell,
Gashed and marred his comely face;
Who can know him in his place?
Up and spake two brethren wise,
'Youngest hearts have keenest eyes;
Bird which leaves its mother's nest,
Moults its pinions, moults its crest.
Let us call the Swan-neck here,
She that was his leman dear;
She shall know him in this stound;
Foot of wolf, and scent of hound,
Eye of hawk, and wing of dove,
Carry woman to her love.'
Up and spake the Swan-neck high,
'Go! to all your thanes let cry
How I loved him best of all,
I whom men his leman call;
Better knew his body fair
Than the mother which him bare.
When ye lived in wealth and glee
Then ye scorned to look on me;
God hath brought the proud ones low
After me afoot to go.'
Rousing erne and sallow glede,
Rousing gray wolf off his feed,
Over franklin, earl, and thane,
Heaps of mother-naked slain,
Round the red field tracing slow,
Stooped that Swan-neck white as snow;
Never blushed nor turned away,
Till she found him where he lay;
Clipt him in her armes fair,
Wrapt him in her yellow hair,
Bore him from the battle-stead,
Saw him laid in pall of lead,
Took her to a minster high,
For Earl Harold's soul to cry.
Thus fell Harold, bracelet-giver;
Jesu rest his soul for ever;
Angles all from thrall deliver;
Miserere Domine.
Eversley, 1851.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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Morning Sun
Scarlet sunset reflected in the silent stream,
Dazed emerald forest still,
In this never ending dream,
Wind whispers through the grass softly,
As the sun's rays brushes the Earth's face,
Warmth spreads,
The sun's comforting grace,
And as the sun slowly disappears,
Lesser stars show,
As diamond shining tears,
Wait until morning in the moon's dull light,
The sun rests during the dream-filled night,
And still once more,
Until the sun returns,
Reflected past the water's shore.
poem by Keitorin Miki
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