Escargot
An escargot was pacing within a pasture,
amid greens and weeds, flowers and bees,
and was whistling happily in agriculture,
his best allegro song, 'fiu fi-fiu fiu fiii'.
The snail was happy! Bees were humming,
and above, a bright Sun, crowned its shell,
with little morning dew drops, drumming,
tip tip; Like an ocean wide, was the well!
Pacing he whistled, feathered and bonnie,
aesthetic, pleasantly apt was his sound,
nodding to birds in foliage who were lonely,
fi-u fi-fiu fi-u fii, with clover abound.
And happily the escargot nicely smiled,
to all creatures with poetic glimmering,
with a cuckoo radiantly to coo-coo mild,
he pi-ki pi-ki, reputed scripts genuine!
And then walking sniffed a bright stone
that shined in a thorough spell lambent,
'lap iz' nigh nai nai nai, like sky in dawn
handsomely singing in a foreign accent.
A deity of Sun-Gold fields 'Pan d' Ore',
was dancing at his whistle! Amidst greens
the snail danced too, jumped in galore,
in subtle ways to be a beloved of Sirens.
Amid the gleam of that galore, Lady 'Lu-
iz-a' splendid singer with her pink balloon
to accompany the snail in folklore imbue,
fiu fi-fiu fiu fii, danced to reach the moon!
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Related quotes
Snail Shell
Sir hand
Or is it maam
I fell out of my right place again
And you
Considered me
And now Im where a snail has to be
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
I need to know because you see
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Friend
Look what you gave
And how can you ever be repaid?
How may I give you a hand
From the position at your feet where I stand?
So let me thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Id like to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
I need to know because you see
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
Snail shell
Thank you
Snail shell
Thank you
Ah
Ah
Ah
Was it something you would do for anybody?
Was it what youd only do for me?
Or was it something where you acted when you saw the need
And knew that there would be a way the act could be repaid
And so it may, but for today
I want to thank you for putting me back in my snail shell
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Self Spent
got this small self
small as a snail
slow
pacing like that old snail
that you know
something that you did not
touch
because of pity
got this tiny conscience
like a speck of dust
it is too small and perhaps
of lesser value
than any other self
in this lonely nook
i do not think anymore
how to spend it well
i got a day
or just a second
and i am spending it all
till i am no more.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Made Me Choose
it was a case of choosing
a stone, a snail, a hammer
i chose the hammer
just that
i never used it to drive a nail
to smash a snail
to break a stone
i chose the hammer and kept it
just that
i left it in the house
(bought a house five years ago)
i walked away
and then i whistled my way
in the woods
just that
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Snail and the Quail
The quick, quivering quail laughed at the slow moving snail
And said, “Don’t ever enter a race or you’ll be last on the trail.”
Well, that snail always saw himself as moving kind of slow,
Though he was sure he knew where a straight line would go.
He thought, “Quail is faster, running back and forth, then forth and back.
If he does that in a race, quick quivering quail might just run off track.”
So the slow moving snail smiled and challenged quick, quivering quail
To a race for the candy store on the other side of hill and dale.
Quick, quivering quail laughed so hard he could hardly talk.
He joked, “Slow snail, you have no chance if you run and I only walk.”
Slow moving snail responded, “Tomorrow you’ll have a chance to shine.
Race time is noon and where ants cross the road is the starting line.”
Quick, quivering quail, still laughing, said “I’ll give you a big head start.”
Slow moving snail answered, “No thanks. Just race fast. I’ll race smart.”
Off went quick, quivering quail with buddies to have fun and stay up late.
Slow moving snail worked on a plan to move faster and go straight.
The day passed quickly for snail and quail as each went his separate way.
Night was short and soon a bright new sun hailed the start of race day.
Quick, quivering quail was tired after staying out late with his best friend.
Slow moving snail slept well and had his plan for how the race would end.
Snails and quails crowded ‘round as queen ant started to whine,
“Loosen up your shell and feathers; then step to the starting line.
On your mark, get ready, get set, now off you two go.”
Quick quivering quail rushed down the track… sir snail started slow.
It wasn’t long before quick quail had quivered across two dales, and then
Thought he’d just catch 40 winks before trying that much track again.
He thought, “I could walk in my sleep and still win this race.
That slow moving snail, carrying his shell along. What a big disgrace! ”
So off he went into Dreamland, seeing candy stores over the next dale.
Or was it two more hills that were the end of this easy trail?
Meanwhile slow moving snail studied his map as he moved along.
He smiled at flowers and friends on the hill; then broke into song,
“I’ve worked hard for this race and thank each and every fan.
I’m confident that I’ll win, but if not, I can always try again.
With your cheers and my hard work, “slow” won’t mean “lose”.
Victory depends not on just our skills, but how much of them we use.”
As slow snail topped the hill, it rained, but not on a single snail fan.
They had umbrellas, since slow snail had checked with the weatherman.
His name now was “quick snail” as he slid down the hills of water and mud.
Rain woke quick quivering quail as a big dropp hit his head with a thud.
Quail ran faster as he thought he saw the finish line with each advance…
But shrieked, “Oh no, I can’t believe it. This line is made up of ants! ”
Snail’s slide downhill helped him move over the dale as never before.
Soon there it was within sight and smell…that winning candy store.
Then snail’s moves were much slower and he could hear a noise behind.
Sure, it was quick quail, so snail reached for all the strength he could find.
Before he knew it, slow moving snail was in front of the candy store.
So proud, he yelled, “I Love You All! ” as he listened to the crowd roar.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Snail Goes To Heaven (A One-Act Tragicomedy)
Bare stage. A square neon sign on extreme right which reads: “This way to Heaven”.
Prolonged silence. Enter Snail, moving very slowly throughout the play.
Snail:
I’m a dead snail.
I’m going to Heaven.
I’ve lived for 15 years.
That’s a ripe old age.
I’ve been blessed.
Had a marvellous sex life, you know.
Well, if you know snails
we attract a mate with our slime.
Oh, slime turns me on, baby.
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
Well, maybe I should focus on holy thoughts.
Purity...refined thoughts...you know...
Snail God does not like sex.
Copulation is not exactly what
Snail God meant when Snail God declared:
'Go forth and slime the world;
be ye together...'
Snail God demands purity
so let me be so...
after all, I’m going to Heaven...
a dead snail and moving on to Heaven...
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
Had a precarious life,
you know,
all these 15 years...
A farmer saw me in the grass.
I heard him curse
and he raised his foot to crush me.
Well, unfortunately for him
he stepped on a snake
and the last I heard of the man
was an expletive
and the last I heard of the snake was a hiss.
Yes, I’ve had a long life
a risky life - but it’s all worth it
for an eternal life in Heaven
is my reward
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
(Enter Frog, jumping. Snail looks at Frog in amazement. And Frog stops and looks at Snail in amazement.)
Frog: What are you doing?
Snail: That’s what I was about to ask of you.
Frog: I’m a dead Frog and I’m jumping on my way to Heaven.
Snail: I’m a dead Snail and I’m moving on to Heaven.
Frog: This is ridiculous.
Snail: Indeed. It is ridiculous.
A Frog going to Heaven?
No, for it is truly declared by Snail God:
'None but Snails shall enter Heaven.'
Frog: And in the words of the Frog God:
'I shall confound all other creatures.
Only Frogs shall enter Heaven.'
And so it has come to pass
Snails think they can go to Heaven.
Unless the Frog God
in Its Infinite Wisdom
has arranged for a Dish of Snails
when all Pure Frogs are at Its side in Paradise.
Well, Snail...you’re toast when I see you in Heaven.
(Frog jumps on to near stage right, screaming: “Heaven - here I come! ” and then disappears.)
(Long silence.)
Snail (facing audience) : Well, what next? - The snake to Heaven?
The Farmer to Heaven? His dog to Paradise?
Donkeys to Heaven?
(Snail moves on, in its slow way, to nothing but Heaven...)
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Today I accidentally stepped on a snail on the sidewalk in front of our house. And I thought, I too am like that snail. I build a defensive wall around myself, a 'shell' if you will. But my shell isn't made out of a hard, protective substance. Mine is made out of tinfoil and paper bags.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daffodils
Un vert soldat returns from war,
in green vast spreads and daffodils,
with bees to buzz above the gore,
he bleeds in haze from deathly bore,
dropping red drops on weeds and flor',
euphoric feed this ground of kills,
Un vert soldat returns from war,
in green vast spreads and daffodils,
O maker of the bees and flow'rs,
this is the field he run when small,
with birds on trees singing to stars,
the buzzing bees don't know of wars,
amid the souls that take this course,
utopian was his standing tall,
O maker of the bees and flow'rs,
this is the field he run when small.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Au Jardin
O you away high there,
you that lean
From amber lattices upon the cobalt night,
I am below amid the pine trees,
Amid the little pine trees, hear me!
'The jester walked in the garden.'
Did he so?
Well, there's no use your loving me
That way, Lady;
For I've nothing but songs to give you.
I am set wide upon the world's ways
To say that life is, some way, a gay thing,
But you never string two days upon one wire
But there'll come sorrow of it.
And I loved a love once,
Over beyond the moon there,
I loved a love once,
And, may be, more times,
But she danced like a pink moth in the shrubbery.
Oh, I know you women from the 'other folk',
And it'll all come right,
O' Sundays.
'The jester walked in the garden.'
Did he so?
poem by Ezra Pound
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Justice
justice allegedly is not arrogant
when it proclaims that
no stone shall be left
unturned
neither is it so inefficient
to take the pacing of
a snail
how do you like a blind
woman to decide your murder case?
how unupdated is the sword?
how rusty are the scales?
and how long can the hands of time
stop the moldy motion of madness?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frangipanis
With bright arms spreading grabbing
the two frangipanis embrace each other,
reach with their fingers to the sun
in a age old gesture
and sometimes they look wild and disorderly
before their flowers burst out in light turquoise
and the wind spread their fragrance,
then they display flowers new and fresh,
while yellow weavers sing happily in their branches
and bees buzz past their flowers.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Rivalry only yields fruits.
Plants vie with each other
To give flowers in different colours.
They have to catch eyes of bees.
Bees vie with each other
To imbue force with their breeds.
They have to be early birds.
Flowers are colourful.
Bees are black moors.
A perfect combination.
Woman, mind your face.
Man, mind your force.
25.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Over The May Hill
All through the night time, and all through the day time,
Dreading the morning and dreading the night,
Nearer and nearer we drift to the May time
Season of beauty and season of blight,
Leaves on the linden, and sun on the meadow,
Green in the garden, and bloom everywhere,
Gloom in my heart, and a terrible shadow,
Walks by me, sits by me, stands by my chair.
Oh, but the birds by the brooklet are cheery,
Oh, but the woods show such delicate greens,
Strange how you droop and how soon you are weary-
Too well I know what that weariness means.
But how could I know in the crisp winter weather
(Though sometimes I notices a catch in your breath),
Riding and singing and dancing together,
How could I know you were racing with death?
How could I know when we danced until morning,
And you were the gayest of all the gay crowd-
With only that shortness of breath for a warning,
How could I know that you danced for a shroud?
Whirling and whirling through moonlight and star-light,
Rocking as lightly as boats on the wave,
Down in your eyes shone a deep light-a far light,
How could I know 'twas the light to your grave?
Day by day, day by day, nearing and nearing,
Hid under greenness, and beauty and bloom,
Cometh the shape and the shadow I'm fearing,
'Over the May hill' is waiting your tomb.
The season of mirth and of music is over-
I have danced my last dance, I have sung my last song,
Under the violets, under the clover,
My heart and my love will be lying ere long.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Lobster-Quadrille
'Will you walk a little faster?' said a whiting to a snail,
'There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle -- will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
'You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!'
But the snail replied 'Too far, too far!' and gave a look askance --
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.
'What matters it how far we go?' his scaly friend replied.
'There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France --
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you joint the dance?
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Ballade 1
The stag was very proud of his swiftness,
Of running ten miles in one breath,
And the wild boar was proud to be fierce,
And the sheep praised her woolly fleece,
And the horse its beauty, and the buck was proud
Of crossing the plain at a bound,
And the one proud of strength was the bull,
The ermine in having a furry skin;
And to them all he said from his shell:
'The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
What I see first are lions, leopards, bears,
Running the countryside, wolves and tigers
Under pursuit by greyhound and mastiff
And the shouts of men, so hated that if
They're caught each person will attack,
Because of the destruction of the flock;
They're thieves, treacherous and wicked,
And merciless, and for that detested.
Are they strong and fast? Good at a run?
The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
Many see him and the path he's on,
Enclosed in the shell he carries along,
They don't do him harm, they let him be,
And so he goes from week to week,
As many go in their own poor realm
Who live good lives in their simple gown,
And if the world gives them little at all,
They still go on with its good will.
And cow and calf have the meadow's run,
And the snail will get to Easter just as soon.
Prince, among the strong, the rich, the great
There's a lesson they rarely think about;
Their haste can't bring the future on:
The snail will get to Easter just as soon.
poem by Eustache Deschamps
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I Stop Walking
I STOP WALKING
I stop walking
The wind is pleasantly cool-
I sit down on the wooden bench
Surrounded by fields of weeds and wildflowers
The sky is light - grey spring-
I don't know why
I am so so happy
Happy just to be alive-
Soon I will walk again
The pain in my knee
Less than it was-
All around me is Jerusalem morning light
And the fields dancing in the morning wind
Like my happiness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Rat In The Bottle
Wet.
Calm.
Pacing around.
Hatching plans.
Lonely.
Quiet.
Pacing around.
Hatching plans.
Suddenly,
he jumped.
Jumped again
and again.
He looked up,
the top was far.
Accepting his fate,
he laid low.
Suddenly,
he jumped.
Jumped again
and again not retiring.
The bottle fell.
He ran.
Swiftly.
He ran.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Mock Turtle Song
Will you walk a little faster? said a whiting to a snail
There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail
Don't you see how eagerly the turtles and the lobsters all advance
They are waiting on the shingle, won't you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
(3x)
You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters in the sea
But the snail replied "Too far, too far!" and gave a look askance
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance
[Chorus]
(2x)
[Solo]
What matters it how far we go? his scaly friend replied
There is another shore, you know, upon the other side
The further off from England the nearer is to France
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance
[Chorus]
(repeat to fade)
--Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"--
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tuvvi Tuvvi
SERENADING THE SEASON OF SPRING WITH SMILES
ARE THE BIRDS SINGING MELODY OF TUVVI TUVVI
DANCING TO THE BEAUTY OF BLOOMING DAFFODILS
ARE THE LEAVES IN THE WIND WHISTLING TUVVI TUVVI
USHERING THE WARM SUNSHINE OF THE SPRING
ARE THE WALTZING SHADOWS SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
BORDERING THE GREEN GRASS ALL AROUND BEAMING
ARE THE SWAYING TREES SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
WELCOMING THE BRIGHT SPRING IS THE BEAUTIFUL MORNING
REFLECTING ITS LIGHT ON FLOWING STREAMS OF SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
SEEING THE SIGNS OF NEW LIFE PRAISING
ARE THE GRATEFUL HEARTS SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
BLOOMING ARE THE FLOWERS IN SPRING COLORS
INVITING THE BEES BUZZING TUVVI TUVVI
FILLING THIS WORLD WITH SWEET SOUNDS OF LAUGHTER
ARE THE CHILDREN SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
Transalation of Poem by KUVEMPU
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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Each Creature Within Nature
From the great whales of the ocean to the garden snail in his shell
Each creature within Nature does serve it's purpose well
And the creatures we dismiss as vermin are not vermin at all
They contribute to Nature in some way though their contribution may seem small
What can be said of Nature that has not been said before
She is the one immortal she will live forever more
Many of her creatures gone to extinction but new life forms she create
The one the artists and the writers feel inspired to celebrate
The one who lives by her own law and does things in her own way
From our every walk in Nature we learn every day
'Tis not out of a sense of joy that the male bird sings his song
But to warn neighbour males of his own kind that this patch to him belong
The creatures us humans dismiss as vermin not so in Nature's eyes
And Nature's ways are far more complex than we even realize.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Born to Work
I wasn’t born to work you know,
Not like a snail is born to slime,
Pecuniary incarceration.....
That should be a crime!
I don’t do any damage,
To your veggies or your flowers
Yet I’m bound to work, not free to roam
For years (and by the hour!)
I wasn’t born to work you know,
I’d rather be a snail or slug
Inflated monthly targets
Don’t mean much when you’re a bug.
I know a slug is not a bug
So pedants please stand down,
Poetic licence there I cite,
So loose that crazy frown!
I wasn’t born to work you know,
I’d rather be a flea
On second thoughts though
What I want
Is to be a work free me!
poem by Cathie Tufnail
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