Oh where are you the lost lamb in pain and in sour
Oh where are you the lost lamb in pain and in sour
You who have strayed from your pastor
where have you gone along
To a land without a tree and without a song
where do you wander
straying from me, from life you are sundered
You now in stranger land drink water
From broken wells
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Related quotes
Like clouds that rake the mountain-summits
Like clouds that rake the mountain-summits
Or waves that own no curbing hand
Thus I followed the hollows of your craggy mountains
From sunshine to sunless land.
I paced my legs silently in what was once
My beloved moorland, my beautiful streams glide
Along a bare and open valley
You were my shepherd and my distinguished guide
Like unearthly ghost in your lands I wander
Touching and feeling the plants of time
I study the vaults of your skies,
I embrace the chambers of your heart.
When I take this arduous journey towards you
Through this arid and harsh land
As merciless as it is to my feet
I follow my heart towards you love
As long as there is a breath in my nostrils
So go my feet in this pilgrimage
I know it is a long way towards you love
With waving long and languid paths
But your roots have sunk so deep in my heart
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Shall I care?
Shall I care at all, that in the dreams and in the languor of time
My poetry does not show me and my inner most being and prime
For my poems are fragrance, and not a credible reflection
Words like shadows in disharmony dance and daunt imagination
But I do care, for life will be over so soon,
And I will be lost, forgotten as my being never happen
Like a small candle in mid day bright noon
And my quill idle, blunt and not sharpen
yet, like barley bending in harsh summer winds throng
And rising again and again
So would I, free and unbroken rise from agony and pain
Day long, night long change my sorrow into words of song
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Well Water
How can one have words…
Over that which does not…
Belong to them…
A boy friend or boo…
Is just that…
A free emotion running wild…
Who stops at a well to drink…
A well which is used by some…
If not many…
As the water is given to drink…
He is free to drink it…
Which does not mean…
It is your well he shall always drink…
For any well which offers water…
He will drink…
So how can you tell him…
The well he should drink from…
Water is water when you hunger…
For thrust…
Remember water is free…
And so are the wells…
Now what can you do …
To change that…
Make sure only certain…
Drinkers, drink from your well…
And you still cannot tell…
Whisperkwane
[email protected]
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wanderer (Der Wanderer)
I come from highlands down to shore,
the valleys steam, the oceans roar.
I wander silent, joyless here:
my sigh keeps asking, Where? Oh, where?
Their sun appears to me so cold,
their blossoms limp, their life so old;
and what they speak of, empty fare:
I am a stranger everywhere.
Where are you, land, beloved home?
Imagined, sought, but never known!
The land, the land, whence hope does flow,
the land where all my roses grow,
where friends shall never meet in vain,
where all my dead shall rise again,
the land that speaks my language true:
Oh land, where are you?...
I wander silent, joyless here,
my sigh keeps asking, Where? Oh where?
The specters answer my distress:
"Where you are not, there's happiness."
poem by Georg Philipp Schmidt, translated by Walter Aue
Submitted by anonym
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The left
Infatuate left will you still persistently proclaim
Your own mother land final doom, your direst foulest shame
Dis-patriate yourself in insanity so deformed and by the devil damned
Ah, when I hear your traitorous lying cunning bell
This gallant betrayal vane knell
It pains my wounded ear; the lies you tell
An ignorant and unsettled crowd of pretenders in self invalidation
Rush to culture their homeland destruction
And nourish a bantling who has already learned to lisp sedition
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To The Land
To the land of bribes,
To the land of telephones,
To the land of corruptions,
To the land of trains,
To the land of shops,
To the land of thieves,
To the land of connections,
To the land of drugs,
To the land of trucks,
To the land of cats,
To the land of Banks,
To the land of dogs, To the land of footballers,
To the land of dragons,
To the land of hope,
To the land of ice-cream,
To the land of potatoes,
To the land of chocolates,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of apples,
To the land of coffee,
To the land of lights,
To the land of ships,
To the land of birds,
To the land of tigers,
To the land of carpets,
To the land of pillows,
To the land of lions,
TO the land of toys,
To the land of horses,
To the land of beds,
To the land of roses,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
To the land of romance;
I never new women do snore until i married one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tonight all windows are opened wide
Tonight all windows are opened wide
Tonight all hearts blasted in pain converge to heal
Tonight all gentle soft words pay to mend and to appeal
Between us they flow said undisturbed by vain pride
Time has traveled us so far
Broken heart shall we let it journey us forth more
To the end of our painful path; till the last dropp of love’s soar
Where finally we may find the virtue between us, the goodness of our stars
Someone is weeping on a pillow dry
Someone is gasping at the door knob asking why
Let all soft gentle words flow between two of us
And heal and cure all pains to the very last.
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My heart is heavy with fruits of love
My heart is heavy with fruits of love
Like clusters of ripe pomegranate fruit bearing down
The canopy branches of the tree
But I can never give you one from above
It is waxed and sweetened by the full sun as jewels crown
The fruits of my love do not belong to me; they are not free
Yet in the evening, at dusk twilight, I dare entreat you to hide low
When bats chase moths encircling wandering in lights glow
Under the crimson dusk skies’ pall
A fruit from the tree may slip and fall
And when in the gray hour it drops as lust’s prey
Would you take it? Hence no one will ever know or say
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Love lost
She was so cruel and capricious making me bury our love
Not in a grave yard under a sluttish tomb stone
But beneath a tall oak tree of a forest dark, wide and alone
Where none can come across or see from above
There will be no memorial days or sad hours
And I shall never visit the tree or put flowers
Yet the mouth I loved so much to kiss and to treat
Was none like so daring and bittersweet
I shall never go to the under tree love grave
For the woods are hostile, dark and cold
My time I shall for new love save
New love, new joy, constrain the rebel heart, forget the old
All day long I shall stay in the sun
Where the wide winds blow and flowers bloom
But oh, I shall cry at night for my sorrow is still undone
When none will know my time of agony and gloom
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Coo coo coo
Coo coo coo
somewhere here and there
At my mango tree somewhere
At my neemtree somewhere
At my banyan tree somewhere
At my bael tree somewhere
Somewhere somewhere somewhere
Coo coo coo.
This song is yours
This song is mine
This is our song
We all are here
This is ours
Our life is here.
Coo coo coo
Everywhere I wander
Wonder and wonder
unable to move but stay
Here I am with my
Lost time and space hay.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Say There's A Tree, A Horizon
Big tree
right outside my room
tell me when your flowers will bloom
big tree
a wars'a comin soon
this war'll bring you alotta doom
big tree
spread your leaves and fly
cuz you dont wanna be here when your flowers die
big tree
uproot yourself and run
run from the bullets and run from the guns
war
from the oceans to the land
no more water to fill your hands
flowers
I'll try to water you
but theres salt in my tears and that jus' wont do
big tree
they dont understand
that what they do effects your land
big tree
by you I've made a bed
and I ask you how this war moves us ahead
big tree
my friend whats the cost
if only they could see the faces of the lost
pinecone
shaped like a grenade
the grass where you lay is all I could save
big tree
where have your sisters gone?
to make more boxes to lay flags on?
big tree
where have your brothers gone?
to make more boxes to carve names on?
poem by Chris Osterbrock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You turned from me
Remember me as I was back then
As a precious memory of comfort in time of agony and pain
You have turned from me; but I always see
The beautiful maid laughing by a flowering spring tree
With the slaying eyes that made the air around so bright
Under shaking, flickering stars of warm hazy summer night
Hands were touching hands
Love grew slowly in such timid shy trend
You have turned from me; but I always remember
The bursting laugh against the night dew of early November
That one careless night of youth and laugh
While outside the spangled reeds in the silver moon did bath
For me, that night is the only night I have
Such a precious jewel against hard times in my heart I save
And how about you? in shine or in sorrow
How far did that splendid night in your heart grow?
You have turned from me time passes for long
The years were harsh leaving me forlorn without a song
I dare you never will see
What time and years have done to me
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In A Foreign Land
It was a matter of fact that when I paid all my tax
I held my world in the palm of my hand
And all of my debts were causing me to defect
To a land of bananas and sand
So I ran, yes I ran, yes I ran to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am
Here I am in a foreign land
Im so glad we made it
I thought wed never land
I grabbed all my cash
And decided to dash far away
Far away, far away to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
Goodbye to all of the rich mans daughters
Goodbye to my debts now Im way cross the water
Far away, far away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am here I am in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
Please tell my mother and all my ex-lovers
That Ive finally made the grade
Please tell my debtors and the money collectors
That all of my bills will be paid some day
Im away, Im away, far away in a foreign land
Goodbye champagne and caviar set
I wanna slum and drink all the rum I can get
Im away, Im away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
But Im all out of my jack and I cant go back
Im away, far away, far away in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Orli
Of all the girls that are cleaver and smart
There is none like witty pretty Orli
She is the darling of our heart
Where she lives within chambers' alley solely
Of all young ladies of the land
none walks in such beauty and youth of proud descend
her master of art and math of high command
like cloudless climate of starry nights skies
you can meet the aspect of her eyes
The war of shades and lights
of rebel frowns and innocent smiles bright
are so softly lightened over her glance and face
where thoughts sweetly serenely express
How pure how dear is their dwelling place
And on those cheeks and over this brow
the soft and calm yet eloquent
smiles that win the tints that glow
but tell of budding life of respect and in goodness spent
A mind at its peace with all the universe show
A heart whose love and thirst to the world is innocent
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Shall I ever let
Shall I ever let my fancy and dream to roam
To bring this rare pleasure and conjure it back home
At touch this pleasure and memory melts
Like bubbles of water when the rain pelts
Nature has withhold Catherine beauty across the wide skies
What an adornment for the human eyes for next thousands of years
She has taken their cream of beauty, fairest dyes
And shaped and tinted sweet Catherine above all peers
When I behold her on the earth descend
My heart begins to throb and to burn; only in pains
This is my fancy and dreams that melt and vanish; my sad life's end
Love has poured her slaying beauty into my veins
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Sorrow
Oh, how the mighty one has fallen!
In scarlet and in luxury but more than pains,
In the City called Adam with no glory,
To the fields of swords and to the fields of sorrow with words!
For, the mighty one fell with a clue,
And like the dead of many in the land of mines.
Tell me, how beautiful were your tents? ! !
Upon the throne of the kingdom and of words;
For, in the spring timew of the year came the war.
This blow is swifter than the claws of the eagles!
And, it is also stronger than the lonely lion in the thick forest of Africa;
But, like the poor man's little lamb in the land of trouble.
Oh, how the mighty one has fallen!
On the crags of the wild goats with honey and butter;
But, with one little ewe lamb to walk across.
My legs are like the legs of the deer in the forest of hope!
But, in the fields of sorrow are many dead bodies;
And, the City called Adam is now with no glory.
Oh, how the great one has fallen!
In the cave of jealousy with words of sorrow;
But, out of many waters without a view! !
And like the scarlet and the luxury to the sword.
Oh, that somebody would guide and give me a drink of water! !
From the wells of Bethlehem with the sign of hope;
For, there are many dead bodies already in the land of mines.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two beneath a shady tree
They were two beneath a shady tree cover
An old oak tree with blistered trunk and bark failing over
Like the hand of an old man with frail eyes
Yet leaves and fresh sprouts from its boughs shot to the skies
An old sturdy oak tree under summer sun
In mid of golden wheat clustered by the wind run
The waves of the wheat heads combed by gale and breeze
As the two set and made themselves at calm ease
They set and watched the golden field swaying in dance
The broken roar and the dim din of a remote city at horizon glance
She was beautiful and shy like a violet by a mossy wall stone
She set by him hidden and through his eyes she was only his own
They set beneath the tree, their life yet untrodden path
They spoke the first verses of love with joy and laugh
What was to come they knew not; merely the glory of that hour to bear
since they were innocent and pure; the masters of the days that were
They gathered roses from the field while they may
Unaware of old time that was still to carry them flying
A world so harsh where love grows and fleets away
They fell to play losing no time in grieving and sighing
And so they sat beneath an old oak before the sun in dusky skies
veiled his fair locks of child hair while he did spy
The unclouded luster that dwelled in her slaying eyes
Her bashful beauties once descried
The vanquished flowers around lost their pride
And in their vermilion buds their blushing they did hide
Losing their balmy fresh summer smell
They would never admit or tell
How much her sweets by far their own did excel.
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A Drink
With glass, I am a man – or so I think! –
A role to play when blessed with courtly drink:
A gin or two, then vintage port or wine
To pep me up and gift me with a shine.
I know it’s false, as I now must depend
Upon my daily shots with open end.
Insidious, it all becomes routine
To beg a drink each day for self-esteem.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
Life life life life life life is drink
Life life life life life life the brink
Life life life life life life is drink
Life life life life life life the brink
Life life life life life life is drink
Life life life life life life the brink
Life life life life is on the brink
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have you ever been enslaved by love?
Have you ever been enslaved by love, that you are totally abendant
And merely tend upon the hours and times of your love’s desire
You have shrunk with no personal pursues no precious time on your own to spend
No interest, nor service of any kind, till your love list requires
Dare you not to question or to chide the endless idle hour
While your love counts the time and watches the clock for you
Think you not the bitterness of waiting the love’s absence sour
When your love vanishes, biding you unexpected adieu
Dare you contend to be consumed with your jealous thought
Where your sovereign may be and whose affair he suppose
But like an obsequious slave you stay and think that you aught
That your love in soaring Narcissism is happy making time with those
My dear, true, you have cultured a fool love at your own expense and will
By never questioning, by always thinking anything your love does has no ill
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A Stranger
Sometimes we feel defeated,
we’ve lost the will to fight,
we are about to give up,
and never make a stand.
We think there is no point,
no reason why we should.
All hope is lost now,
like knocking our head on wood.
We’ve been driven down,
by forces of which we have no control.
Our world is spiralling down,
into a murky whirlpool.
Where is that guardian angel,
which is supposed to help us,
in our darkest need?
Have they forgotten about us,
as into the whirlpool we speed?
Just as we are about to reach it,
comes a welcoming outstretched hand,
to drag us away from the water,
and onto the safety of dry land.
A faceless stranger,
whom we have never seen before,
reaches out to help us,
set us on the road once more.
Our first steps are tentative ones,
until our confidence grows.
Then it is with leaps and bound,
into territories unknown.
Blessed be the stranger,
with their helping hand,
who plucked us out of misery,
to show us the way,
to our promised land.
So now, we stride towards the future,
no bonds to pull us down.
Thanks to a stranger,
whose name we never know.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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