Wish
I'd like to show your eyes the plains
And a forest green and ruddy,
Far off and soft
Under clear skies on the horizon,
Or some hills
With lovely slopes
So changing and supple and misty,
Seeming to melt in the sweetness of the air,
Either hills
Or forest.
I'd like
For you to hear
Strong, vast, deep, and tender,
The great dull voice of the sea
That moans
Like Love;
And once in a while
Right next to you,
In the interval,
I'd like you to hear
Right next to you
A dove
In the silence
Both soft and weak
Like Love a trifle in the shadows,
I'd like you to hear
The gushing of a spring
For your hands I'd like some flowers,
And for your steps
I'd like a little path, grassy and sandy
Going up a bit and coming down,
Turning and seeming
To approach the limits of silence.
A very little sandy path
Where your steps would leave faint marks,
Our steps
Together.
poem by Henri de Regnier
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Related quotes
I Recognize Your Voice
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
when I enter a room full of people
and even your soft steps each day
catches me with a tingle time after time,
through your beauty that flowers continually.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
sometimes it feels as if you are waiting on me
but constantly you do astound me
and even your soft steps each day
has a kind of skipping to them
and with being in love I am stupid.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
sometimes hear it echoing at night
although your face is disguised by the darkness
and even your soft steps each day,
but our love is not a game of force
and still continually you turn my life upside down.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter
and even your soft steps each day
poem by Gert Strydom
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Two Steps
Two steps together
Our Myths says
Brings two souls together
Two steps together
Is the surround of
One’s life to another
Two steps together
Can bring the long path
Seeming so far away
To so close that
One can feel the step’s beat
In his own heart.
Two steps together
But,
Will life be just the path of two steps only?
Anyhow, any steps walking is incomplete
If it is not done in two steps
All begins by just two steps together….
poem by Kriti Krits
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The Steps
Your steps, children of my silence,
Holily, slowly placed,
Towards the bed of my vigilance
Proceed dumb and frozen.
Nobody pure, divine shade,
That they are soft, your steps selected!
Gods!… all the gifts which I guess
Come to me on these naked feet!
If, of your advanced lips,
You prepare to alleviate it,
An inhabitant of my thoughts
The food of a kiss,
Does not hasten this tender act,
To be soft and not to be not?
Because I lived to await you,
And my heart was only your steps.
poem by Paul Valery
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And you'll never hear!
I have screamed from the pain of your love
But you couldn't hear the voice of my heart
And you will never hear
I begged you
all those
years
May just for once your honesty wake up
To ease my heartache
But you will never feel
After the day that you have gone you are always the same
You are not the man that I was in love with before
Cruel and savage more then a stranger
As hard as I have tried to make you hear
But you never will
I were just a misty
Even never had the right to have a memory figured in your mind
For the sake of your love I have trew away my dignity
To follow the steps of your crazy heart
But unfortunately
my steps got tired
And my feelings are foist
And out of all desires
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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84
my silence shall be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Silence Shall Be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Silence
In silence, you can hear
the scratching of a pen across paper.
In silence, you can hear
the rhythmic sound
of your heart beating
telling you you are alive.
In silence, you can hear
the screech of a demon call.
In silence, you can hear
the murmur of a baby
just moments before
they begin to awake.
In silence, you can hear
your memories calling.
In silence, you are transported
back in your life
into days long gone by
under sun-drenched skies.
In silence, you can hear
your voice of loneliness.
In silence, you are there
within the confines
of your inner self
and forever alone in silence.
11 May 2012
poem by David Harris
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To Hear Her Sing
To hear her sing--to hear her sing--
It is to hear the birds of Spring
In dewy groves on blooming sprays
Pour out their blithest roundelays.
It is to hear the robin trill
At morning, or the whip-poor-will
At dusk, when stars are blossoming--
To hear her sing--to hear her sing!
To hear her sing--it is to hear
The laugh of childhood ringing clear
In woody path or grassy lane
Our feet may never fare again.
Faint, far away as Memory dwells,
It is to hear the village bells
At twilight, as the truant hears
Them, hastening home, with smiles and tears.
Such joy it is to hear her sing,
We fall in love with everything--
The simple things of every day
Grow lovelier than words can say.
The idle brooks that purl across
The gleaming pebbles and the moss,
We love no less than classic streams--
The Rhines and Arnos of our dreams.
To hear her sing--with folded eyes,
It is, beneath Venetian skies,
To hear the gondoliers' refrain,
Or troubadours of sunny Spain.--
To hear the bulbul's voice that shook
The throat that trilled for Lalla Rookh:
What wonder we in homage bring
Our hearts to her--to hear her sing!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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To Johnanna
Often I hear your steps
Ring through the alley.
In the small brown garden
The blueness of your shadow.
In the dawning bower
I sat in silence with the wine.
A dropp of blood
Sank from your temple
Into the singing glass
Hour of unending gloom.
From stars a snowy wind
Blows through the foliage.
Any death, the night
The pale man suffers.
Your purple mouth
Dwells a wound in me.
As if I came from the green
Fir hills and legends
Of our homeland,
Which we long forgot -
Who are we? Blue lament
Of a mossy forest spring,
Where the violets
Secretly scent in spring.
A peaceful village in summer
Once sheltered the childhood
Of our race,
Dying off now at the evening-
Hill the white grandchildren
We dream the terror
Of our nightly blood
Shadows in stony city.
poem by Georg Trakl
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The Faithless Shadows.
The faithless shadows of day are running
And high and clear is the call of bells,
Steps of the church are blazed as with the lightning,
Their stones are alive and wait for your light steps.
You'll here pass and touch the chilly stone,
That's dressed in awful sanity of span,
And let the flower of spring be thrown
Here, in this dark, before the eyes of saint.
The rose shadows in misty darkness grow,
And high and clear is the call of bells,
The darkness lays on steps, such old and low --
I'm set in light -- I wait for dear steps.
poem by Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok
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The Green Roads
The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,
Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.
Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.
An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.
In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.
It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.
That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,
For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see
The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Six Steps
Take six steps towards me my love and,
Let me hold you in my arms;
For i am on the first floor waiting for you,
And like the joy of peace in the land of unity.
Hammer, chisel and iron! !
Your love is under construction;
But take six steps towards me my love,
And, let me hold you in my sweet arms of love.
Saws, iron picks and axes! !
I am in the thick forest of love waiting for you;
And, i can see the burning bush afar off!
So. let me watch my steps to get out of this bush,
For your love is all that i need.
Take six steps towards me my love and,
Let me hold you in my arms;
For the sea around you has become rough because of the great wind that blew! !
And like the care of your neighbours in the land of your muse,
But, i want to save you and take care of you in my lovely arms!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sigh
I know that love
doesn’t fade with time
and true love
does never pass.
The same things
that could make me
fall in love
with you before
still charms.
Eyes that sparkle bright
filled with teasing devils
dancing within,
soft perfect lips,
a smile coming from angels
and hair
that softly falls over shoulders,
still bewitches me
but deeper still
a look cutting past
all superficial things
and to hear
your voice again
tells me much more
and above all you remain just you
and sometimes I wonder
when time and opportunity
will again bring us together,
or rather silly I want to
jump in a car
or get on a motorbike.
Still my steps are measured out
and I walk the path
that life demands
but in one or other way
I want you in it.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Ride my Elevator Alone
I ride my elevator alone. What an awkward silence it is to be alone.
I alone, with my soul and thoughts.
I alone, in the misty dust.
Second floor, third floor, and back to the beginning.
I ride my elevator alone, but then God steps in.
There in an awkward silence.
Silence.
Pure remorse.
All in the emptiness and the calamity of my own soul.
Alone, in the emptiness of my heart.
Alone, he looks; alone he stares, alone he wonders, and really cares.
Third floor, second, fifth, sixth, and seventh.
Alone.
Alone.
In the vast destruction of a holly oath.
It stops.
I am alone.
Truly, I ride alone, but the sound persists.
I can hear the silent voice of sin.
It incites me, it will not desist.
Alone?
My silence, despair, agony, and regret. I am sorry we are all alone.
poem by Blanca Rocha
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Can You Hear Me
Can you hear me
I must have been blind to leave you this way
It's hard to say I miss you
I can't live without your love
Can you hear me can you hear me
I know you've got the key
With you I feel so strong
Can you hear me can you hear me
Your love can set me free
I know that I was wrong
Let us try again just one more time
Let the love we found be back cause your's mine
One more chance we're gonna taste it
Now or never no time to waste it
Hold me the moonlight is shining bright
Touch my body soft tonight and tight
Your love's so strong
I'm dreamin' of you all night long
Can you hear me can you hear me
I know you've got the key
With you I feel so strong
Can you hear me can you hear me
Your love can set me free
I know that I was wrong
What I'm gonna do
Can you guide me through
Oh can you hear me
Where are you
What I'm gonna do
Can you guide me through
Oh can you hear me
Where are you
Original you need like a melody
The harder I try the bigger is the tragedy
Heartbeat energy for now and eternaly
Take my dreams and be my destiny
I feel there is a vibration
You and me as one what a combination
Love is the promtantation
Can you hear me my imagination
Can you hear me can you hear me
I know you've got the key
With you I feel so strong
Can you hear me can you hear me
Your love can set me free
I know that I was wrong
Can you hear me can you hear me
I know you've got the key
With you I feel so strong
Can you hear me can you hear me
Your love can set me free
I know that I was wrong
What I'm gonna do
Can you guide me through
Oh can you hear me
Where are you
What I'm gonna do
Can you guide me through
Oh can you hear me
Where are you
Can you hear me can you hear me
(Oh can you hear me)
I know you've got the key
With you I feel so strong
(Can you hear me tonight)
Can you hear me can you hear me
(Oh can you hear me)
Your love can set me free
I know that I was wrong
(Can you hear me tonight
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories
I see wild waves that break, and breaking-run;
And the wild sea-birds wheeling round the ships;
But at the dawn, the coming of the sun,
I see your red, red lips.
I see the cold moon now with fresh delight;
And the stars arise anew, and yet arise;
But in the night, the blackness of the night
I see your sad, sad eyes.
I hear the engines throbbing as we ride;
And the men’s songs. I hear great throats
Rejoice.
But in the silence, when all the songs have died,
I hear your soft, soft voice.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Beloved - Hide Your Eyes
A steep but lovely trail -
I notice a divide and realize
before me lies a known and beloved path - beloved of you.
And you, beloved of me,
the longing comes to choose your chosen trail.
I want to see the flowers you saw that day
when you held my hand and my heart all at once.
In seeing the rocks and branches you cherished
I might catch a ghost like glimpse of a once loved you.
The once loved you - a once beloved me.
Beloved no more.
And maybe the present me might stumble upon the present you.
The steps hasten now to the path, the rocks, the branches.
The steps stop.
What if I find your eyes and they find mine?
What looks out from a beloved's eyes when love has departed?
I choose the other path.
poem by Meli Secret
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Welcome To Our Canadian Spring
We welcome thy coming, bright, sunny Spring,
To this snow-clad land of ours,
For sunshine and music surround thy steps,
Thy pathway is strewn with flowers;
And vainly stern Winter, with brow of gloom,
Attempted for awhile
To check thy coming—he had to bow
To the might of thy sunny smile.
A touch of thy wand, and our streams and lakes
Are freed from his tyrant sway,
And their clear blue depths in ripples of gold
Reflect back the sun’s bright ray;
Whilst e’en the rude rocks that their waters fret
Put on mosses green and bright,
And silent, deep homage render up now,
Sweet Spring, to thy magic might.
And what words could tell half the wond’rous change
Thou mak’st in our forest bowers,
Replacing the snow with soft velvet sward,
Cold crystals with glowing flowers;
Clothing the leafless, unsightly trees
In rich garb of satin sheen,
And robing the meadows and woodlands wide
In thine own soft tender green.
And the insect life that thy warm breath wakes
Now people earth and air;
And the carolling birds have come back to dwell
In the charms of thy presence fair.
Need we wonder all hearts with joyous beat
Watch the changes thou dost bring,
And, with smiles of gladness, welcome thee
To our land, bright, sunny Spring?
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Steps
Each house has steps of various types,
And numbers, leading to its door;
We leave our foot-wear and walk in,
As tradition demands us so.
And there are steps to temples too,
Especially those built on hills;
We do most things in steps in life;
But walk, we must in Lord’s footsteps!
Our spiritual life has steps to make;
We cannot take a nap at all;
The door to heaven has no steps,
And so also, the fall to hell!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-16-2008
poem by John Celes
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the sounds of Sunday
i hear the sound of the cold wind from the sea
i hear the waking call of the roosters
the scratching feet of the dog on some disturbing flea
and i hear her steps towards the door as she opens it
she goes to church
and i hear her gently closing the door and the gate too
closing in on me
i am alone now with all the other sounds of the house
this sound of the growing silence
some voices
rushing to fill my mind
some poems
for the day
it is this silence that feeds me
the trickles of my soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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