Ergo Bibamus!
FOR a praiseworthy object we're now gather'd here,
So, brethren, sing: ERGO BIBAMUS!
Tho' talk may be hush'd, yet the glasses ring clear,
Remember then: ERGO BIBAMUS!
In truth 'tis an old, 'tis an excellent word,
With its sound so befitting each bosom is stirr'd,
And an echo the festal hall filling is heard,
A glorious ERGO BIBAMUS!
I saw mine own love in her beauty so rare,
And bethought me of: ERGO BIBAMUS;
So I gently approach'd, and she let me stand there,
While I help'd myself, thinking: BIBAMUS!
And when she's appeased, and will clasp you and kiss,
Or when those embraces and kisses ye miss,
Take refuge, till sound is some worthier bliss,
In the comforting ERGO BIBAMUS!
I am call'd by my fate far away from each friend;
Ye loved ones, then: ERGO BIBAMUS!
With wallet light-laden from hence I must wend.
So double our ERGO BIBAMUS!
Whate'er to his treasures the niggard may add,
Yet regard for the joyous will ever be had,
For gladness lends over its charms to the glad,
So, brethren, sing; ERGO BIBAMUS!
And what shall we say of to-day as it flies?
I thought but of: ERGO BIBAMUS
'Tis one of those truly that seldom arise,
So again and again sing: BIBAMUS!
For joy through a wide-open portal it guides,
Bright glitter the clouds, as the curtain divides,
An a form, a divine one, to greet us in glides,
While we thunder our: ERGO BIBAMUS!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Related quotes
Long Ago
De ol' time's gone, de new time's hyeah
Wid all hits fuss an' feddahs;
I done fu'got de joy an' cheah
We knowed all kin's o' weddahs,
I done fu'got each ol'-time hymn
We ust to sing in meetin';
I 's leahned de prah's, so neat an' trim,
De preachah keeps us 'peatin'.
Hang a vine by de chimney side,
An' one by de cabin do';
An' sing a song fu' de day dat died,
De day of long ergo.
My youf, hit's gone, yes, long ergo,
An' yit I ain't a-moanin';
Hit 's fu' somet'ings I ust to know
I set to-night a-honin'.
De pallet on de ol' plank flo',
De rain bar'l und' de eaves,
De live oak 'fo' de cabin do',
Whaih de night dove comes an' grieves.
Hang a vine by de chimney side,
An' one by de cabin do';
An' sing a song fu' de day dat died,
De day of long ergo.
I 'd lak a few ol' frien's to-night
To come an' set wid me;
An' let me feel dat ol' delight
I ust to in dey glee.
But hyeah we is, my pipe an' me,
Wid no one else erbout;
We bofe is choked ez choked kin be,
An' bofe 'll soon go out.
Hang a vine by de chimney side,
An' one by de cabin do';
An' sing a song fu' de day dat died,
De day of long ergo.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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These two are not two Love has made them one Amo Ergo Sum! And by its mystery Each is no less but more.
quote by Benjamin Britten
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dubito ergo sum - I doubt therefore I am
quote by Kayvan Sylvan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bibo, ergo sum. - I drink, therefore I am
quote by Fredirect Toyou
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ergo, because of the money problem, it is probable that our orchestras will soon go down in quality.
quote by Lara St. John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Exchange of hearts
I like his toy but I can’t steal.
Moral is a blade.
I hate him but I can’t eliminate.
Law is a sword.
I want her but I can’t elope.
Repercussion is lethal.
I know the limit, ergo I got the heart.
Bliss is fostered.
16.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Unmethodical discourse at a café table
By the flickering candlelight
of the long evenings,
inimical to study so they said
they played this game
to while away the time
between learning and authority
in that Jesuit college
in the early 1600s:
blindfolded or simply shut-eye and don’t cheat
you turn the pages of the Latin dictionary at random
and stick a pin, in turn, upon a random word;
the first to make a sentence
in the fewest rounds, the fewest words, wins
a prize of choice..
we do not know the prize
(among those severe, repressed, ambitious
boys, perhaps it’s just as well…)
or what the others drew;
but this we know: that night
René pricked a first word – ‘sum’ – ah! -
promising! a verb was useful, in this game—
the second round… he pricked on ‘ergo’…
that swift mind already playing the tables
of his agile mind…
the air was tense; they’d remember
this night, this flickering light,
forever in their future lives…
a hush (how boys fight to win
more fiercely than Christ’s soldiers,
whom they would become…)
‘Cogito’! A shout of triumph
from our René – and the rest
is history – alas..
It’s said the Devil enters in
at the third stroke; and so it was:
in three words, a lifetime’s career
as the greatest of divines
in an age of awe for the divine
were lost to mere – philosophy…
the age of Clairvaux, Cluny, Chartres
for all too brief a moment,
saw the vision of a glorious revival; but...
triumphantly, our René shouts
‘Á moi, c’est la conquéte! Le jeu d’esprit á moi! ’
(impeccable Racinian hexameter, naturellement..) –
alas for human vanity! The gods were whispering
‘Sum, ergo cogito! ’ in his spiritual ear – but no –
his chose mankind’s so vain conceit
and launched a thousand thousand
café tables on the pavement; seated there
in black, with scarf and beret, sunglasses,
in a cloud of choking gitane and gauloise smoke,
centuries of self-satisfied philosophes,
believing 'cogito, ergo sum': that they are their thought; born
as true Frenchmen, to be world thinkers, Rodin-like; and
that because they think, they are… somebody…
oh René, what a fall was there...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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She can’t escape the boss’ love.
She loves a man under whom she works.
He is potent, kind and lenient.
Her husband will be tense to hear it.
Ergo, no woman speaks of him to her spouse;
18.01.2001, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Give allowance to vigilance
The one who was uxorious,
might, nevertheless, have a mistress,
as infidelity is not disloyalty.
Loyalty and infidelity
are not to be confused with each other.
Ergo, you men and women,
never ever demand your spouses
about the truth of their affairs.
24.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Interest lies in doing
You can run but will not do it for long.
You can jump but will not stand firm.
Can over power but fail to empower.
Ergo, stroll. You can feel the steps.
Stand. You can feel the earth.
Be receptive to the beauty of environs.
The interest is in doing, not in getting.
The pursuit, albeit unending, is worth the game.
07.01.2001, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Who Am I?
Rene Descartes popularized
The phrase: Cogito ergo sum-
I think therefore I am. How wise!
If I’m thinking, then it’s presumed
That I exist because of “I”
The one doing the thinking.
On this point we see eye to eye;
Even so, it begs questioning
Beyond my very existence;
That is, the question: who am I?
A query asked with persistence.
What does “buried beneath” imply?
Does it mean “core sense” of myself
Or an illusion of one’s self?
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Strong Conviction
Woman in my life…
I need for you to comfort me…
No matter what that might be…
Comfort me…
Is that time close…
There is a…will…here
Stronger then the waters of any ocean…
That… my love is you in motion…
Together we travel at the speed of light…
Conquerors’ of our plight…
We…have no consequence…
A strong conviction is our vent…
And into… each other we went…
The explosion…The beauty…ergo
The colors…then…the stars…
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Divine rules-man lives
God is immortal
Rock is undying
God causes no harm
Rock does no mar
God chastens when we sin
Rock hits when we sprint
God boons by prayer
Rock shapes by rain
God is in distinct embody
Rock is in discrepant form
ERGO, IDOLS OF GOD ARE MADE OF ROCK
poem by Harika Kuncham
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Cloud
Appliqued matress fluffy and puffy
Big God is dragging to cover His size
And big God omnipresent covered can't be
Ergo the matress He's trying to squeeze
Big God is crushing it to dark
The matress is crying to thunder
And He shears the matress, anger to spark
Patters down the cloud tears; We say 'a shower'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Knocking Of Forbidden Doors
(curly m.c.)
Latin chant (salve regina)
Eia, ergo, advocata nostra,
Illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte
Et iesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui.
(translation
Hurray, therefore, our advocate,
Turn those, your merciful eyes, toward us.
And jesus, the blessed fruit of your womb )
song performed by by Enigma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cogito cogito ergo cogito sum
quote by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like a dog like a man?
I shell speak your name
even in the dark night when death has its hands on me.
I will run until I have nothing left
Until I fall on my face
To the ground to stay
Where my face belongs
For how can I show
My unholy face to you?
How can
I even lift my
Hands to worship you
When there
is so much blood
On them.
And yet I am
Like I hunting dog that wants
More.
poem by Ergo Lehman
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Cafe Society
I really love my coffee
Although I like it weak
A skimmed milk cappuccino
As much as twice a week.
I love the buzz of coffee shops
And people watching too
I love café society
And my BMW.
For I live in Woollahra
And when all is said and done
The phrase that best describes me is
Cappuccino ergo sum.
April 2004
poem by David Keig
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23
what is right can sometimes be wrong,
like the right of a state to kill,
that to me is wrong,
like the right to have slaves
that was wrong, but they once
thought it was right,
something that feels so right
may, sometimes, be also be wrong,
like feeling love, and too much love
for a neighbor or yourself,
it can be intoxicating at times,
and it can kill you,
because what is right exists only
in our human minds,
limited, too narrow, too
confined in our flesh and blood,
in the context of our culture,
in the frames of our time,
to the dictates of religion
the liberality of our education,
to our biases and prejudices,
what we believe in, what we
touch with faith in dark places
what we try to light with candles,
or see in microscopes or see in
telescopes, or see with our eyes
and hearts wide open,
may still be wrong, or
still be not right,
so what is right after all?
Possibly, this can be right,
But possibly this can also be wrong,
We can always pray. But the doubt
Is always there. Cogito ergo sum.
Who can really be sure?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Is Right Can Sometimes Be Wrong
what is right can sometimes be wrong,
like the right of a state to kill,
that to me is wrong,
like the right to have slaves
that was wrong, but they once
thought it was right,
something that feels so right
may, sometimes, be also be wrong,
like feeling love, and too much love
for a neighbor or yourself,
it can be intoxicating at times,
and it can kill you,
because what is right exists only
in our human minds,
limited, too narrow, too
confined in our flesh and blood,
in the context of our culture,
in the frames of our time,
to the dictates of religion
the liberality of our education,
to our biases and prejudices,
what we believe in, what we
touch with faith in dark places
what we try to light with candles,
or see in microscopes or see in
telescopes, or see with our eyes
and hearts wide open,
may still be wrong, or
still be not right,
so what is right after all?
Possibly, this can be right,
But possibly this can also be wrong,
We can always pray. But the doubt
Is always there. Cogito ergo sum.
Who can really be sure?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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