Stanzas
The sunsets fall and the sunsets fade,
But still I walk this shadowy land;
And grapple the dark and only the dark
In my search for a loving hand.
For it's here a still, deep woodland lies,
With spurs of pine and sheaves of fern;
But I wander wild, and wail like a child
For a face that will never return!
And it's here a mighty water flows,
With drifts of wind and wimpled waves;
But the darling head of a dear one dead
Is hidden beneath its caves.
poem by Henry Kendall
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My Dog and I
My dog and I, the hills we know
Where the first faint wild roses blow,
We know the shadowy paths and cool
That wind across the woodland dim,
And where the water beetles swim
Upon the surface of the pool.
My dog and I, our feet brush through
Full oft the fragrant morning dew,
Or when the summer sun is high
We linger where the river flows,
Chattering and chuckling as it goes,
Two happy tramps, my dog and I.
Or, when the winter snows are deep,
Into some fire-lit nook we creep
And, while the north wind howls outside,
See castles in the dancing blaze,
Or, dozing, dream of summer days
And woodland stretches, wild and wide.
My dog and I are friends till death,
And when the chill, dark angel's breath
Shall call him from me, still I know
Forever friends, my dog and I.
poem by Norah M. Holland
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Don't Cry, My Girl
Been away too long a time
The waves called and the birds sung
Dawns desolate dawns of want
Sunsets unsettled sunsets of hope
A world is vast a world of voyages
My girl grass will grow
Where fires had lit water sprinkled
Hearts that yearn chocolates are sweet
My Girl cry not my beloved
A ring in your finger so cute
Look,
Here I am all sunsets Virgin blesses.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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The well [Fântâna]
I
I know a small well in the shadowy vale
A chirping gold starling has urged me to sleep
Beneath the high poplars, with green foliage veil,
Forgetting the city where my sigh was deep.
I know a small well in the shadowy vale
A blackbird I talked to down there, for it pried,
When learned that I suffered and heard my sad wail,
Laughed loudly and deeply, but I only sighed...
I know a small well in the shadowy vale
II
In foliage lies hidden the white-looking vale
And what have I wanted in this passing world?
I pity myself, the sad folks who prevail...
O, you, finely chirping and nice golden bird
In foliage lies hidden the white-looking vale
Its spring in the morning is kissed by the sky,
With it flows my fate, beginning to fail,
O, blackbird whose laughter is not gonna die!
The small hidden well turns white in the vale.
poem by Alexandru Macedonski, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Sleepy shores, ride with me......
my darling ….. in the dream i saw you, in the clouds I waited
you to fly; for the sky is too high for me, to seat above your
knee of your love
all comes in a setting journey, where the rainbow beneath the
shinning ray of the sun, gallops the beauty of your star, off
my feet in the high above i see
ride my dear darling, in the coolness of the day, tie your hands
and whisper in my ears, though it fall, promise you’ll still hold
me so dear, let us conquer the emptiness of the night and clamp
side by side until the sun subside in the sea indefinitely
come dear to me and ride with my flying carpet; gently take the
magic of each melody as it zoom in the sleepy shores I waited
you in the darkest night of the day
I can't wait but to stay, my dear one, I almost drown to myself,
for with you comes the beginning to believe that fate have just
fade, until I return my deep regret, leave me not and tell me that
after the end, worth leads to pay that you'll be home in the wind
as you wait for me
listen my trouble heart, and let thy soul rejuvenate as the
rumbling waves catches the mighty strength of the angry sea,
now as it nestled in the navel of the heart you always care
pick me up for in the waves cease the rain, wake me up and
always look with faith; I’ll be still holding the steering wheel as
the rudder goes the same …..
poem by Antonio Liao
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Sea Song of the Exiles
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, white cot whence the ripe grapes fall,
Gold blooms that bask on the mossy wall!
Dear land, farewell!
Hill, plain, and dell!
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, betrothed, with the pure, pale brow;
'Neath sombre heaven dark billows we plough.
Dear land, farewell!
In thee our loves dwell;
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Our eyes, whose tears all brightness blot,
Leave the dark wave for a darker lot!
Dear land, farewell!
In our heart's a knell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
poem by Victor Hugo
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Under the Figtree
Like drifts of balm from cedared glens, those darling memories come,
With soft low songs, and dear old tales, familiar to our home.
Then breathe again that faint refrain, so tender, sad, and true,
My soul turns round with listening eyes unto the harp and you!
The fragments of a broken Past are floating down the tide,
And she comes gleaming through the dark, my love, my life, my bride!
Oh! sit and sing — I know her well, that phantom deadly fair
With large surprise, and sudden sighs, and streaming midnight hair!
I know her well, for face to face we stood amongst the sheaves,
Our voices mingling with a mist of music in the leaves!
I know her well, for hand in hand we walked beside the sea,
And heard the huddling waters boom beneath this old Figtree.
God help the man that goes abroad amongst the windy pines,
And wanders, like a gloomy bat, where never morning shines!
That steals about amidst the rout of broken stones and graves,
When round the cliffs the merry skiffs go scudding through the waves;
When, down the bay, the children play, and scamper on the sand,
And Life and Mirth illume the Earth, and Beauty fills the Land!
God help the man! He only hears and fears the sleepless cries
Of smitten Love — of homeless Love and moaning Memories.
Oh! when a rhyme of olden time is sung by one so dear,
I feel again the sweetest pain I’ve known for many a year;
And from a deep, dull sea of sleep faint fancies come to me,
And I forget how lone we sit beneath this old Figtree.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Holloween poem
She loves to move alone over cold water,
She knows to move over the dark, cold water;
She loves to toss a coin into the cold, dark water,
To know it is lost beneath the water,
To later know it alone beneath the dark water.
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock.
She knows her tower above the city,
She loves to hover over the city, to see
The marrow pulse and glow, she knows
The death moan of the city, how it jewles,
How it counts, how it stretches over the shuttered provinces,
To the farthest border.
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock.
She is a ghost in the air, an Ariel;
She tells the screamers till there is silence,
She silences the wolf and the seal, the fouled horse;
She stares the hollow to remorse, to
Recall the cold, the dark, she loves
To move alone with the dark, cold water.
Under the silk-crack, the skyscape,
Under the cry-field, the tool room,
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock
poem by Rozen Maiden
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All Of My Life
(michael randall)
All of my life
I have walked alone
In search of a star
You are that star
Youre the one Ive waited for
Youre the one Ive waited for
All of my life
Theres a song to sing
A chorus for two
All that love can bring
Ill share here with you
You can make it all come true
So darling
All of your life to share
Is all Im asking
All of the minutes and the years
All of your happiness
And sometimes all your tears
So darling
All of my life to share
Is all I give you
All of the flowers in the field
Well walk together through the sunsets and the years
So darling
All of my life to share
Is all Ill give you
And all of the flowers in the field
Well walk together through the sunsets and the years
All of my life
Theres a song to sing
A chorus for two
All that love can bring
Ill share here with you
You can make it all come true
So darling
All of my life to share
Is all Im asking
All of the minutes and the years
All of your happiness
And sometimes all your tears
So darling
All of my life to share
Is all I give you
All of the flowers in the field
Well walk together through the sunsets and the years
So darling
All of your life to share
Is all Im asking
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wraith
Ah me, it is cold and chill
And the fire sobs low in the grate,
While the wind rides by on the hill,
And the logs crack sharp with hate.
And she, she is cold and sad
As ever the sinful are,
But deep in my heart I am glad
For my wound and the coming scar.
Oh, ever the wind rides by
And ever the raindrops grieve;
But a voice like a woman's sigh
Says, 'Do you believe, believe?'
Ah, you were warm and sweet,
Sweet as the May days be;
Down did I fall at your feet,
Why did you hearken to me?
Oh, the logs they crack and whine,
And the water drops from the eaves;
But it is not rain but brine
Where my dead darling grieves.
And a wraith sits by my side,
A spectre grim and dark;
Are you gazing here open-eyed
Out to the lifeless dark?
But ever the wind rides on,
And we sit close within;
Out of the face of the dawn,
I and my darling,--sin.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Islands
Earth, stream and tree encircled by sea
Waves sweep the sand from my island.
My sunsets fade.
Field and glade wait only for rain
Grain after grain love erodes my
High weathered walls which fend off the tide
Cradle the wind
To my island.
Gaunt granite climbs where gulls wheel and glide
Mournfully glide oer my island.
My dawn brides veil, damp and pale,
Dissolves in the sun.
Loves web is spun - cats prowl, mice run
Wreathe snatch-hand briars where owls know my eyes
Violet skies
Touch my island,
Touch me.
Beneath the wind turned wave
Infinite peace
Islands join hands
neathe heavens sea.
Dark harbour quays like fingers of stone
Hungrily reach from my island.
Clutch sailors words - pearls and gourds
Are strewn on my shore.
Equal in love, bound in circles.
Earth, stream and tree return to the sea
Waves sweep sand from my island,
From me.
song performed by by King Crimson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wasted Sunset
the day is gone when the angels come to stay
and all the silent whispers will be blown away
lying in the corner, a pair of high-heel shoes
hanging on the wall, gold and silver for the blues
one too many wasted sunsets
one too many for the road
and after dark, the door is always open
hopin' someone else will show
someone is waiting behind an unlocked door
grey circle's overhead, empty's on the floor
the cracks in the walls have grown too long
the slow hand is dragging on, afraid to meet the dawn
one too many wasted sunsets
one too many for the road
and after dark, the door is always open
hopin' someone else will show
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wasted Sunsets
The day is gone when the angels come to stay
And all the silent whispers will be blown away
And lying in the corner a pair of high heel shoes
Hanging on the wall gold and silver for the blues
One too many wasted sunsets
One too many for the road
And after dark the door is always open
Hoping someone else will show
Someone is waiting behind an unlocked door
Grey circles overhead empties on the floor
The cracks in the walls have grown too long
The slow hand is dragging on afraid to meet the dawn
One too many wasted sunsets
One too many for the road
And after dark the door is always open
Hoping someone else will show
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning About Sunsets And Faded Denims
everything fades
blue denims
daylight turning into
dark orange then
siphoned into
darkness
but before things
go into
nothingness
we still ponder
how beautiful once
they were
on the other hand
because they fade
we learn to love
what they have
too become
like cherishing memories
like putting flowers on the
burial grounds of
those who died
and whom once we
so truly loved
like savoring ourselves
with sunsets
like switching on the light
when it is so dark
ah, we learn
no matter how long to live
with what is in our
hands....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lament for Atlantis
Mighty gods, O rulers of all beneath ye,
hear this lamentation I bear, that speaks of
fair Atlantis, place of my birthplace, lost now,
drowned by the ocean.
Lonely lies the land of Atlantis, lost now
under ocean. Once it was full of wonders,
once it was full of people and temples, drowned now
under the deep waves.
Drowned, she lies, lost under the ocean's broad reach;
once a queen, now draped in a corpse's wound sheet,
fair Atlantis lay as a pearl above all pearls,
above all known lands.
Once an empress over all lands, she lies drowned;
deep beneath the ocean she lies, she lies low
under endless waves while the years and the ages
pass like a swift wind.
No-one comes to comfort her, ease her sorrow.
All her friends have left her alone in sorrow,
all the lands have dealt with her treacherously,
left her unmourned, lorn.
Fair Atlantis lies in the ocean's deep breast
while the nations come no more, under dyed sails,
bring no gifts of gold or else costly cargoes
under the dyed sails.
All her temples lie in the ocean's deep breast,
all her festivals and sacred statues,
all her sacred slaves and her holy virgins
lie in its deep breast.
All her sacred groves, and her many fair fields
lie beneath the ocean; and all her cities
lie beneath the waves that ye caused to rise up,
drown it in one day.
All her enemies have become as great kings,
saying: 'Fair Atlantis is lost for all time,
let us rule the Earth while she lies destroyed, dead
under the deep waves.'
Fair Atlantis calls to her former fair friends:
'High I raised you, gave you the gifts of great lore,
yet you all exult in my sudden downfall,
strut like a vain cock.'
How the countries envy her glories, lost now
while beneath the ocean she lies, forlorn, lost,
when her people lived as do heroes god-blessed,
basking in glory.
When her people fell to the ocean waves,
how the countries mocked at her fall to harsh fate,
how the countries mocked at her, lost to deep waves
rolling above her.
Is her fate naught to the mighty nations?
Fair she rose and ruled, but now desolate, drowned
deep beneath waves, fallen from pride that whelms all,
which will befall them.
For my land, I weep with my bitter, bleak eyes,
for my birthplace, lost for all time, and drowned now.
Nothing heals my heart in its endless sorrow,
mourning my lost land.
See: her enemies have prevailed, are puffed proud;
see: her children wander the world, are scattered
over many lands, for her enemies rule
over all known lands.
Let the lands' pride lead to their needed downfall,
let them drown so deep in their insolent pride,
till the world is free from the taint of humans
lost to redemption.
poem by Phillip Ellis
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Sunsets And You
Sunsets are not a rare commodity
they come and go every night
so i compare you not to a sunset
for you come once in a life
your beauty surpases the colors of the sky
painted anew each night by angels on high
for god himself has sculpted you
he made it so your only seen by few
and you do not hide from the moon
as all the sunsets do
rather you shine bright under its silver light
and you dance all night
you do far more than any sunset would
more breathtaking than any sunset could
sunsets have moved and inspired all man kind since forever
but you move me each moment, to a love that sunsets could never
poem by Daniel Cook
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Sunset on Sunset
Sunset to our sunsets I never thought
For all day long the moments I longed
You you you why did you go
You you you what should I do
Wanna close the curtains
Wanna close the doors
Wanna bring the darkness
Before the sunset starts
How to stop my heart
Thumping up the beat
Waiting for the hands
Waiting for the hands
No no no no no
Cant close my eyes
Cos I feel the lips
All those evening pecks
You you you why did you go
You you you what should I do
Sunset to our sunsets I never thought
For all day long the moments I longed
Yellow yellow then red
Nah nah nah
Red is green for me
Oh how can I play
Waiting waiting for you
Come and start the game
Oh how long to wait
Oh how long to wait
Wish it is dark
Dark and dark forever
Where sun never shows
So it never sets
Sunset to our sunsets I never thought
For all day long the moments I longed
You you you why did you go
You you you what should I do
poem by Rowving Smith
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1866 -- Addressed To The Old Year
Art thou not glad to close
Thy wearied eyes, O saddest child of Time,
Eyes which have looked on every mortal crime,
And swept the piteous round of mortal woes?
In dark Plutonian caves,
Beneath the lowest deep, go, hide thy head;
Or earth thee where the blood that thou hast shed
May trickle on thee from thy countless graves!
Take with thee all thy gloom
And guilt, and all our griefs, save what the breast,
Without a wrong to some dear shadowy guest,
May not surrender even to the tomb.
No tear shall weep thy fall,
When, as the midnight bell doth toll thy fate,
Another lifts the sceptre of thy state,
And sits a monarch in thine ancient hall.
HIM all the hours attend,
With a new hope like morning in their eyes;
Him the fair earth and him these radiant skies
Hail as their sovereign, welcome as their friend.
Him, too, the nations wait;
"O lead us from the shadow of the Past,"
In a long wail like this December blast,
They cry, and, crying, grow less desolate.
How he will shape his sway
They ask not -- for old doubts and fears will cling --
And yet they trust that, somehow, he will bring
A sweeter sunshine than thy mildest day.
Beneath his gentle hand
They hope to see no meadow, vale, or hill
Stained with a deeper red than roses spill,
When some too boisterous zephyr sweeps the land.
A time of peaceful prayer,
Of law, love, labor, honest loss and gain --
These are the visions of the coming reign
Now floating to them on this wintry air.
poem by Henry Timrod
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Beyond
MY heart it lies beyond, dear,
In the land of the setting day,
Where the whispers are soft and fond, dear,
Of the voices that pass away;
And oft, when the night is falling,
5
And a calm is on the sea,
I fancy I hear them calling
rom that far-off land for me.
It is only idle dreaming,
But the dream is full of rest,
10
And up where that glory is streaming,
From the gates of the golden west,
I wander away in spirit,
With a mingled joy and pain,
Till I almost seem to inherit
15
The sweet dead past again.
I see the old dear faces,
I greet them hand to hand;
But sadly too, for the places
Seem strange in that curious land;
20
Till a new light breaks, and all other
Grows dim to my streaming eyes;
For a son has found his mother
In the depths of the throbbing skies.
Yes, my heart it lies beyond, dear,
25
Where that sun is burning low,
And were you not so fond, dear,
I might perhaps—but no!
Are you weary already with walking?
And tears! What tears, dear, too!
30
How selfish of me to be talking,
My darling, in this way to you!
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Twenty-nine Thousand Four Hundred Seven Sunsets
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
In the early days by my mother’s side,
Though she’d often tell me of the sun and of the sea,
I seldom watched, and never for long,
The slow dissolve,
The melt and plunge,
Now you see it, now you don’t-
So many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The years of my youth were marked by friends and sport,
Often whole days on the beach-
Raging winds and mammoth waves
Or a still, glass sea, not a cloud in the sky,
And every shade in between.
I rarely fathomed the myriad shapes and colors,
An ever-changing landscape-
So very many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The middle-aged years pinned me to my work;
Yet through a window from time to time,
Or on holiday, if I risked the break,
I’d notice how lovely a sunset could be-
So very many sunsets lost forever.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
At last, in these final days, each sunset is anticipated, craved.
Regardless the mood of the sea, it will receive the sun.
No matter the face of the sky, it will let go the same.
The sun itself, always churning, always burning,
Swells with new brilliance, new radiance and splendor
Each time it approaches the sea,
Then morphs into a molten pool on the sea’s surface
Before plunging from view-
Never more a sunset lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
Then one glorious day,
The day of my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and sixth sunset,
And I at my usual place along the shore,
Saw the sun rise out of the sea from where it had just set!
The sun rose back up into the sky, and
In the very next moment on the very same day, it set again.
I experienced my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and seventh sunset,
The second in one day!
Oh glorious day!
A sunset gained.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
(In 2 Kings 20: 9-11 the Lord made the shadow go back 10 steps. Certainly, at that exact moment, somewhere in the world, someone saw the sun dissolve on the horizon and then rise again.)
Come Out with Me
There's sun on the river and sun on the hill . . .
You can hear the sea if you stand quite still!
There's eight new puppies at Roundabout Farm-
And I saw an old sailor with only one arm!
But everyone says, "Run along!"
(Run along, run along!)
All of them say, "Run along! I'm busy as can be."
Every one says, "Run along,
There's a little darling!"
If I'm a little darling, why don't they run with me?
There's wind on the river and wind on the hill . . .
There's a dark dead water-wheel under the mill!
I saw a fly which had just been drowned-
And I know where a rabbit goes into the ground!
But everyone says, "Run along!"
(Run along, run along!)
All of them say, "Yes, dear," and never notice me.
Every one says, "Run along,
There's a little darling!"
If I'm a little darling, why won't they come and see?
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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