The Treasure Of The Wise Man
O the night was dark and the night was late,
And the robbers came to rob him;
And they picked the locks of his palace-gate,
The robbers that came to rob him--
They picked the locks of his palace-gate,
Seized his jewels and gems of state,
His coffers of gold and his priceless plate,--
The robbers that came to rob him.
But loud laughed he in the morning red!--
For of what had the robbers robbed him?--
Ho! hidden safe, as he slept in bed,
When the robbers came to rob him,--
They robbed him not of a golden shred
Of the childish dreams in his wise old head--
'And they're welcome to all things else,' he said,
When the robbers came to rob him.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Startled Are Those Robbers
Startled are those robbers,
That had came to thieve.
Quite startled are those robbers stunned,
Begging for a forgiveness on bended knees.
And the hiding places,
Where startled robbers had once hid...
Are blocked to stop an entry,
With cracks and crevices from them now sealed.
Startled are those robbers...
Finding no one wants to bother.
No one wants to bother with robbers...
Chased away and startled by the mobs.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Robbers of time
What robbers rob can be recovered.
The time robbed cannot be retrieved.
Cell phones, televisions and computers
Are robbers that steal time all the time.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Man And The Robbers
A MAN HAD GONE TO HIS BANK AND WITHDREW A LARGE SUM OF MONEY, AND ON HIS WAY BACK, HE SUDDENLY HAPPENED UPON A CREW OF ROBBERS AND HE TURNED BACK AND RAN AWAY AS FAST AS HIS LEGS COULD RUN!
AS HE RAN AWAY, HE SUDDENLY RAN INTO A CREW OF NIGERIAN POLICEMEN! AND THE MAN WAS FLABBERGASTED, HE DIDN'T KNOW WHICH WAY TO RUN ANYMORE AND HE SUDDENLY TURNED BACK AND BEGAN TO RUN TOWARDS THE ROBBERS AND HE SHOUTED AS HE RAN, WAIT MR ROBBER! WAIT!
THE SURPRISED ROBBERS STOOD WHILE HE CAME TO THEM AND HUMBLY HANDED THE MONEY OVER TO THEM, AND ONE OF THEM ASKED, WHY DID YOU RETURN TO GIVE US THE MONEY WE WANTED TO ROB YOU OF? AND HE REPLIED, OH, AS I RAN AWAY FROM YOU, I RAN INTO A CREW OF NIGERIAN POLICEMEN! AND I DECIDED TO COME BACK AND GIVE YOU ROBBERS THE MONEY INSTEAD!
A CURIOUS ROBBER ASKED, WHY DID YOU PREFER TO GIVE US THE MONEY? AND THE MAN SAID, OH, WELL, YOU ROBBERS WOULD ROB ME AND LEAVE ME ALIVE, BUT THE NIGERIAN POLICEMEN WOULD ROB ME, THEN SHOOT ME DEAD AND TELL THE WORLD THAT I WAS THE ROBBER! STATED THE MAN TO THE ASTONISHED ROBBERS
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Robbers
Robbers are everywhere,
titled with honors.
They live like kings,
Action of them stings.
When they rob in millions,
as commissions,
actually they let others
to rob in billions.
Those who talk about justice,
corrupt free nations at their home,
bribe our politicians,
to rob from our poor nations.
What you preach can be practiced,
in double standard?
To let your own country to prosper,
why do you let us, the poor, to suffer?
The honorable robbers,
are our politicians,
who rob our peace,
our future and the sleep.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Picture Book
When I was not quite five years old
I first saw the blue picture book,
And Fraulein Spitzenburger told
Stories that sent me hot and cold;
I loathed it, yet I had to look:
It was a German book.
I smiled at first, for she'd begun
With a back-garden broad and green,
And rabbits nibbling there: page one
Turned; and the gardener fired his gun
From the low hedge: he lay unseen
Behind: oh, it was mean!
They're hurt, they can't escape, and so
He stuffs them head-down in a sack,
Not quite dead, wriggling in a row,
And Fraulein laughed, 'Ho, ho! Ho, ho!'
And gave my middle a hard smack,
I wish that I'd hit back.
Then when I cried she laughed again;
On the next page was a dead boy
Murdered by robbers in a lane;
His clothes were red with a big stain
Of blood, he held a broken toy,
The poor, poor little boy!
I had to look: there was a town
Burning where every one got caught,
Then a fish pulled a nigger down
Into the lake and made him drown,
And a man killed his friend; they fought
For money, Fraulein thought.
Old Fraulein laughed, a horrid noise.
'Ho, ho!' Then she explained it all
How robbers kill the little boys
And torture them and break their toys.
Robbers are always big and tall:
I cried: I was so small.
How a man often kills his wife,
How every one dies in the end
By fire, or water or a knife.
If you're not careful in this life,
Even if you can trust your friend,
You won't have long to spend.
I hated it--old Fraulein picked
Her teeth, slowly explaining it.
I had to listen, Fraulein licked
Her fingers several times and flicked
The pages over; in a fit
Of rage I spat at it...
And lying in my bed that night
Hungry, tired out with sobs, I found
A stretch of barren years in sight,
Where right is wrong, but strength is right,
Where weak things must creep underground,
And I could not sleep sound.
poem by Robert Graves
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The History Of Tomorrow
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of light
By dumping us in the dark with pits everywhere
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of food
By asking us to chop several fire-woods to heat up a pot full of stones
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of job creation
By making us slaves on our own soil
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of education
By dumping us in dilapidated buildings without teachers
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of accountability
By looting our treasury and asking us for yet another term in office
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our leaders fulfilled a promise of safety
By leaving pot holes large enough to swallow countless accident victims on our roads
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of how our bows and arrows
Would secure our future
I want to tell you the history of tomorrow
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless heroes
It’s the history of a country, a country with countless robbers
Robbers with fame
Robbers without shame
Robbers that we would roast with flame
© Adegbenro Adekunle Jacob
Tomorrow’s history is today. All world leaders must make real democracy work. They must be selfless. We must not wait until there is horror and terror before we learn. Nigerian leaders must shun CORRUPTION.
poem by Adegbenro Adekunle
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Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 10
A poet went to an amir of robbers and recited a panegyric but he ordered him to be divested of his robe. As the poor man was departing naked in the world, he was attacked from behind by dogs, whereon he intended to snatch up a stone but it was frozen to the ground and, being unable to do so, he exclaimed: ‘What whore-sons of men are these? They have let loose the dogs and have tied down the stones.’ The amir of the robbers who heard these words from his room laughed and said: ‘O philosopher, ask something from me.’ He replied: ‘I ask for my robe if thou wilt make me a present of it.’
We are satisfied of thy gift by departure.
A man was hoping for the gifts of people.
I hope no gift from thee. Do me no evil.
The robber chief took pity upon him, ordered his robe to be restored to him and added to it a sheepskin jacket with some dirhems.
Hunted
Sacred history like ice castles melt
Myth balloons fly decorated with smiles
Mary stood at the cross crushed
Parents die, divorce, children die
Money stolen by banks, unions busted
Our good little world crashes
Let the rich run for their gated communities
Let the robbers by law hide in mansions
Your game is crumbling
Take the number of the beast
Make your deals with pride
Call your robbery freedom
The imperialists, the colonialist
The killers of the natives
The slave owners
The robbers of land
You liars of in Money We Trust
Your debt to the devil is ending
You are the hunted
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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If Ned Kelly Was King
Hollow threats and a great adventure
So much business, towns in the dirt
Company cars and efficient americans
Three black boys sit in the corner
White woman waiting to talk
Lots of intention but no understanding
If ned kelly was king
Hed make those robbers swing
Hed send them down
Out in the dead heart, tourists and cameras
Four wheel drives wreck, snapshots and slides
Follow the brochures but nothings inside
Heavy machinery loud in the outback
Dreamtime developers they make all the sound
Where will we be when they leave us a quarry?
If ned kelly was king
Hed make those robbers swing
Hed send them down there
Hed make them stay
And we can hope
If ned kelly...
If the quinella comes in today
(moginie/garrett)
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Time
'In good time, when I am ready,
Wondrous schemes shall I unfold;
But we must be cautious, steady,
Cleaving to the safe and old.
Patience, prudence must prevail;
They who venture often fail.'
Thus the politician, weakly
Of the big things of the State;
While the patient public, meekly
Wait, and ever hopeful, wait;
While he slyly woos their vote
With shrewd turnings of his coat.
But, in time, when other people
Populate this troubled world,
Lo, from housetop and from steeple,
Futile curses will be hurled
Curses on the shiftless ones,
Feckless robbers of their sons.
When the last good tree has withered
In an arid, rainless clime,
Then the weary soul who blithered
Of the verdancy of Time
Will grow restless in his grave,
While his baulked descendants rave.
They will curse the generation
That has beggared them by stealth;
Curse the mad procrastination
That has robbed the land of wealth
Wealth their foolish fathers spent,
Reckless and improvident.
'What care we?' declare the spoilers.
'We have ample for to-day!
Other ages, other toilers
Let them suffer as they may.
Let the nation's hope be killed,
That our bellies may be filled!
'If to-day our wealth be doubled,
If to-day our trade be good,
Why should we be plagued and troubled
With vague dreams of nationhood?
For our selfish purpose we
Gaily rob prosperity.'
Robbers of coming race,
Glibly crying 'In good time.'
If one good ye had to face
Sons, and answer for your crime,
With that cry still in your throats,
How, then, would ye scheme for votes?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Better be killed by robbers than by the kick of an ass.
There's good and evil going on. We have cops. We have robbers.
quote by Joe Mantegna
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 19
A caravan having been plundered in the Yunan country and deprived of boundless wealth, the merchants wept and lamented, beseeching God and the prophet to intercede for them with the robbers, but ineffectually.
When a dark-minded robber is victorious
What cares he for the weeping of the caravan?
Loqman the philosopher being among the people of the caravan, one of them asked him to speak a few words of wisdom and advice to the robbers so that they might perhaps return some of the property they had plundered because the loss of so much wealth would be lamentable. Loqman replied: ‘It would be lamentable to utter one word of wisdom to them.’
The rust which has eaten into iron
Cannot be removed by polishing.
Of what use is preaching to a black heart?
An iron nail cannot be driven into a rock.
Help the distressed in the day of prosperity
Because comforting the poor averts evil from thyself.
When a mendicant implores thee for a thing,
Give it or else an oppressor may take it by force.
Parting Tearful will be Better!
Who did think of me? Yourself be.
My heart whines in the hours of wee!
Hours of wee! Hours of wee!
Not to tell ev’n the birds on the tree.
Being young novice in the realm of love,
steering the boat we aren’t aware.
Caught in the midst of violent ocean,
our boat tossed and toppled down.
Our boat tossed and toppled down!
The world is full of shameless brutes.
Lovers to the filth, the pimp woos.
Parting tearful will be better
than to be preys to those in gutters.
Than to be preys to those in gutters!
People are when shipped to the Mars,
lovers of varied cults be sent.
Good souls alone yield good children!
Debar the robbers to the new planets.
Debar the robbers to the new planets!
---------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The more laws and order are made prominent, the more thieves and robbers there will be.
quote by Lao-tzu, The Way of Lao-tzu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The more laws and order are made prominent, The more thieves and robbers there will be.
for Serge who prided that he passed more laws than any senator in Senate
The more laws
and order are made prominent,
the more thieves and robbers
there will be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rebellious thoughts are like an abandoned house overtaken by robbers.