Ever And Everywhere
FAR explore the mountain hollow,
High in air the clouds then follow!
To each brook and vale the Muse
Thousand times her call renews.
Soon as a flow'ret blooms in spring,
It wakens many a strain;
And when Time spreads his fleeting wing,
The seasons come again.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Related quotes
On The Barrier
ON the Barrier Ranges,
Grim, and grey and old,
Spring, the Maid of Wonder,
Spreads her cloth-of-gold;
Every hill and hollow
Carpeting with flowers —
O for feet to follow
Through the shining hours!
Once I saw the damsel —
Watched her at her task,
Basking in her glamour
As the lizards bask:
And, if I remember
Aught of gleam and glow,
'Tis that sweet September
Twenty years ago.
Twenty golden springtides —
Much — and yet how slight
Measured with that region,
Hollow-land and height;
Biding through Earth's changes,
Steadfast to its shocks,
Oldest of the Ranges,
Ancientest of Rocks!
If with sweet recurrence
Youth renews the Earth,
Shall there come no glory —
Light and song and mirth —
Unto us who ponder
Much on banished joys?
Spring, thou Maid of Wonder.
Make us girls and boys!
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Spring And Winter
Spring is near
It is visible in the rear-
View mirror, winter is going to a far away place
From where it'll move at a very slow pace
It will encircle the Earth
And curb every birth
Spring will follow,
Fill life in the things gone hollow
Spring will make all the flowers shine
While winters make every one whine
Spring gives a pleasant touch to everything
Winter gives dullness to even bling
Spring will come and make us dance
While in winter, we don't like such a chance
Winter makes us crave for quilt and the sun
In spring, even failure seems something we won
In winter we search for everything hot
In spring, greenery spreads a lot
And makes us miss it when it is gone
Like we miss night every winter dawn
I hope spring comes soon
And be what it is supposed to be - a boon
I miss spring every single night
Come spring soon, the time has come, the time is right!
poem by Aishwarya Misra
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The Youth By The Brook
Beside the brook the boy reclined
And wove his flowery wreath,
And to the waves the wreath consigned--
The waves that danced beneath.
"So fleet mine hours," he sighed, "away
Like waves that restless flow:
And so my flowers of youth decay
Like those that float below."
"Ask not why I, alone on earth,
Am sad in life's young time;
To all the rest are hope and mirth
When spring renews its prime.
Alas! the music Nature makes,
In thousand songs of gladness--
While charming all around me, wakes
My heavy heart to sadness."
"Ah! vain to me the joys that break
From spring, voluptuous are;
For only one 't is mine to seek--
The near, yet ever far!
I stretch my arms, that shadow-shape
In fond embrace to hold;
Still doth the shade the clasp escape--
The heart is unconsoled!"
"Come forth, fair friend, come forth below,
And leave thy lofty hall,
The fairest flowers the spring can know
In thy dear lap shall fall!
Clear glides the brook in silver rolled,
Sweet carols fill the air;
The meanest hut hath space to hold
A happy loving pair!"
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Spring’s loveliest creature- Butterflies
What hues of Butterflies, we see on earth!
What color combinations and wing-spans!
What textures and designs those fly with mirth!
The tiniest hover-crafts- better than man’s!
From tiny Caterpillar phase, they grow
Into the gorgeous ‘living planes’ that move,
O’er land and sea and sky: from flow’r to bough!
Yes, Nature’s prettiest creature, earthlings love.
When spring spreads her verdure leafy blanket,
And flowers bloom from buds, so numerous,
And Zephyr cool blows over landscape wet,
The butterflies spring forth, most beauteous!
The caterpillar’s gluttony was right!
A swarm of lovely colors weaves a trail
Of happiness astounding any sight!
Yes, spring has come so that earthlings shan’t wail!
A magic performed by Nature mother:
By sweep of her flow’ry-Butterfly wand!
O’er winter’s frozen, leafless land, brother;
Spring’s the shrine of seasons, worshipped, so grand.
poem by John Celes
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Earthworm In An Hourglass
Don’t call me the seductive Sun,
That stretches out to burn every flower chosen,
Burning itself out, before darkness spreads her hair,
All its charms it has spun.
Don’t call me the stealthily staking Moon,
With her clouded memory reigns bright solitary,
In lunar milky glow her blemishes show,
Her imperfections enhance her beauty.
Don’t call me that denounced outcaste Star,
Seeking her beau, like a flash of forgotten dew,
Under the aegis of what gods from a universe afar
She diligently tries to reach out to you.
Don’t compare me to the passing spring,
That throws fleeting banquets on the run,
Lightning & thunder, to the rhythms of nature play encore,
Blossoms & butterflies in ruby panic of fleeting time cohere.
Don’t compare me to the wet rains,
When you come & go with each wistful moan,
What sobbing skies have the storms dreamed?
To rejuvenate the earth with desire of man.
Don’t compare me to the shady mists of pale autumn,
Falling leaves hailing hymns, frowning long night’s measure,
Bees grin of promises of spring unkept in wet kisses
Vista throws convulsions of color & flavor.
Don’t compare me to cuddly winter’s enduring grace,
Where every breath clouds up in weather so foul,
Strength of trees are tested, yet stripped they shall stand witness,
As I trudge to arrive at your call.
Don’t get down on your knees-
To call me your Sun, Moon & Star,
Like them we have war whooped Time & are not changed by it,
Though always looked up to, yet their distances are kept, on ground never their hushed foot fall,
Counting their sand grains, the hourglass has given up, a feeling to worship is born, .
In an anguish with no pause, they patiently await to rejoin their own..
Don’t compare me-
To the varied seasons-that are not so sweet to me,
They ceaselessly count the receding hours in the hourglass & don’t let me be.
Instead call me the EARTHWORM toiling in the dark calling your name,
An enduring truth binding us together, for a preordained journey down below,
When the thin sand doubts, I give my life’s hourglass a little shake,
Giving me wobbly knees, out the endearments like crystal stardust, flow,
Leaving the EARTHWORM with more sand at the top of the hourglass than at the bottom
And my time shall never run out! ! ! ! .
poem by Seema joglekar
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The Boy And The Brook. (Armenian Popular Song, From The Prose Version Of Alishan)
Down from yon distant mountain height
The brooklet flows through the village street;
A boy comes forth to wash his hands,
Washing, yes washing, there he stands,
In the water cool and sweet.
Brook, from what mountain dost thou come,
O my brooklet cool and sweet!
I come from yon mountain high and cold,
Where lieth the new snow on the old,
And melts in the summer heat.
Brook, to what river dost thou go?
O my brooklet cool and sweet!
I go to the river there below
Where in bunches the violets grow,
And sun and shadow meet.
Brook, to what garden dost thou go?
O my brooklet cool and sweet!
I go to the garden in the vale
Where all night long the nightingale
Her love-song doth repeat.
Brook, to what fountain dost thou go?
O my brooklet cool and sweet!
I go to the fountain at whose brink
The maid that loves thee comes to drink,
And whenever she looks therein,
I rise to meet her, and kiss her chin,
And my joy is then complete.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Sonnet XLII: Composed During a Walk
The dark and pillowy cloud, the sallow trees,
Seem o'er the ruins of the year to mourn;
And, cold and hollow, the inconstant breeze
Sobs thro' the falling leaves and wither'd fern.
O'er the tall brow of yonder chalky bourn,
The evening shades their gather'd darkness fling,
While, by the lingering light, I scarce discern
The shrieking night-jar sail on heavy wing.
Ah! yet a little—and propitious Spring
Crown'd with fresh flowers shall wake the woodland strain;
But no gay change revolving seasons bring
To call forth pleasure from the soul of pain;
Bid Syren Hope resume her long-lost part,
And chase the vulture Care—that feeds upon the heart.
poem by Charlotte Smith
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Ode to the Plum Blossom
Wind and rain escorted Spring's departure,
Flying snow welcomes Spring's return.
On the ice-clad rock rising high and sheer
A flower blooms sweet and fair.
Sweet and fair, she craves not Spring for herself alone,
To be the harbinger of Spring she is content.
When the mountain flowers are in full bloom
She will smile mingling in their midst.
Outside the post-house, beside the broken bridge, Alone, deserted, a flower blooms.
Saddened by her solitude in the falling dusk,
She is now assailed by wind and rain.
Let other flowers be envious!
She craves not Spring for herself alone.
Her petals may be ground in the mud,
But her fragrance will endure.
poem by Mao Zedong
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Nature's Season's
Season's come and season's go,
There are four in each year,
Of our time keeping.
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
In other parts of the world,
Their season's are called something else,
Each Season is,
Of different type,
Yet,
Two and Two,
To begin and become,
Spring shows the begining,
Of growth and new season,
So for plants,
Vegetation,
Spring Chickens,
Spring Lambs,
The Calflings,
The Fouls,
All come in the Spring,
And flourish in the Summer,
Summer shows bloom,
From the plants to the Fouls,
And all are seen in full bloom,
Even the birds and the bees,
Sing the songs,
Of spring and summer,
With the Sun's rays,
That shows nature,
In full bloom,
By the time,
All is in full bloom,
And what shows and blooms,
Blossoms all summer,
And just when we are relaxed,
And see no clouds in the sky,
The seson changes,
Beginning with,
The fall,
Autumn's,
Season,
Commences to begin,
Where,
All in bloom,
Falls away and decays,
While the rest,
Fly away,
And,
Migrate,
Or,
Hibernate,
And just when,
We have seen it all disappear,
The frost and snow,
Covers all over,
And chills the air,
Where the chilling effect,
Kills off all decay,
And the blue ice time period,
Takes over for a time,
Chilling,
Freeezing,
Keeping everything beneath the earth,
As winter sets itself right in,
And far beneath the froasted earth,
Is all in nature,
Rekindling itself,
To regrowth itself,
And then spring growth,
Again,
Next season,
That starts the circle of life,
2 x 2 = 4,
The four seasons,
Of,
Our circle of life,
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
The four seasons,
Of ours,
That is 2 x 2,
Spring and Summer,
Then,
Autumn and Winter,
That makes it known,
As 4 seasons,
To us all.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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The Spring—Time, O The Spring--Time
The Spring-time, O the Spring-time!
Who does not know it well?
When the little birds begin to build,
And the buds begin to swell.
When the sun with the clouds plays hide-and-seek,
And the lambs are bucking and bleating,
And the colour mounts to the maiden's cheek,
And the cuckoo scatters greeting;
In the Spring-time, joyous Spring-time!
The Summer, O the Summer!
Who does not know it well?
When the ringdoves coo the long day through,
And the bee refills his cell.
When the swish of the mower is heard at morn,
And we all in the woods go roaming,
And waiting is over, and love is born,
And shy lips meet in the gloaming;
In the Summer, ripening Summer!
The Autumn, O the Autumn!
Who does not know it well?
When the leaf turns brown, and the mast drops down,
And the chestnut splits its shell.
When we muse o'er the days that have gone before,
And the days that will follow after,
When the grain lies deep on the winnowing-floor,
And the plump gourd hangs from the rafter;
In the Autumn, thoughtful Autumn!
The Winter, O the Winter!
Who does not know it well?
When, day after day, the fields stretch gray,
And the peewit wails on the fell.
When we close up the crannies and shut out the cold,
And the wind sounds hoarse and hollow,
And our dead loves sleep in the churchyard mould,
And we feel that we soon shall follow;
In the Winter, mournful Winter!
poem by Alfred Austin
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I Will Follow
Yonder mountain so high
I cant make it all on my own, no
Rolling river why so wide?
To sweep me up and to bear me on
Up against the sky so bright
That I cant even close my eyes
I know I will follow (follow love)
Yes, yes, I will follow (follow love)
I will follow (follow love)
Follow love
Growing slowly like a tree
Someday soon, darling I love you
I love you
Soft and gentle, full summer moon
Set my soul free
Thank you, baby
Drifting like a cloud in the sky
I can see myself from high above
I know I must follow (follow love)
Somehow I will follow (follow love)
I must follow (follow love)
Follow love
Oh, half the future and half the past
Theyre waiting inside your eyes
Yes, and after all of this
To last and last
Till at last its your time to rise, rise
True believer that I am
I am blind, lead me on (lead me on)
Blessed receiver of your love
I own my own time
And Ive been holding on (holding on)
Leave the word unspoken
And the spell will not be broken
And Im bound to follow, now (follow love)
I know I must go (follow love)
I must follow (follow love)
Yes, I must follow (follow love)
Someone to hold my hand (follow love)
Somebody to lead me on(follow love)
Somebody to walk beside me (follow love)
Someone to follow me now (follow love)
I must follow love (follow love)
I will fall in love
I will follow love (follow love)
Anywhere it leads me
I will follow love (follow love)
Follow love
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet. The Human Seasons
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness-to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.
poem by John Keats
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Now They Call It Swing
W. hirsch / vaughn deleath / n. cloutier / l. handman
Once they called it ragtime
And it had its fling
Its the same old syncopation
Now they call it swing
Then they played it jazz time
To a buck-and-wing
Once again it sweeped the nation
Now they call it swing
When singers used to sing
They would go hot cha
But with this modern thing
Now they go dru-du du, dra-da-da
Rhythm has its seasons
Summer, fall and spring
But for seven silly reasons
Someone pulled the string
And they started dancing
Now they call it swing
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Muse Is Free
I swim in the glimmers on the rivers muse
There I muse of love and love muse of me
In muse is ecstasy
my muse is free.
I lay by the brook, the muse's brook
And thirsty, I get up, to get a little drink
When I look, I see, I think
A beautiful Muse and my heart is shook
I dwell in a soul, a soulful muse
And to its harmony my soul withdrew
To the trumpets of muse the song of blue
My soul a muse, I always knew
I smell the odor, of muse's incense
In its torpor my body sleeps in my soul
And I smoke the smoke of muse intense
I laugh at myself amusingly droll
With my muse's nymphs we love in Hellas
Naked and free in the republic
Of beauty and art of love's Bellas
We love to we're entirely love sick.
My muse is free from the Devil's temptation
My Muse is free from God's judgment
My Muse is my only wordly nation
My Muse is a dream, I live, I lament
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Loving You Is A Dirty Job But Somebody's Got To Do It
(Jim Steinman)
Producer for Bonnie: Jim Steinman
Girl:
When the sky is falling and you're looking round for somewhere to hide
Did you ever call out to someone
Did you ever call out to me, I've never been gone-
I've been right here by your side
There ain't nothin' but clouds
There ain't nothin' but clouds in your eyes
Why don't you believe it when you finally found the truth
Youve been drinking poison water from the fountain of youth
Why don't you stop tearing up everyone you need the most
You're so busy trying to get even
You never even try to get close
I can't explain it away
It doesn't make any sense
To know what it's like
I guess you gotta go through it
It doesn't matter baby
Loving you's a dirty job
But somebody's gotta do it
Boy:
There were times when we'd never fake it
There were times when we'd always make it
There were times when we'd take it to the limit
And we'd never, never, ever leave each other alone
We were flesh and blood and bone
There were times we had it all
There were times we had it all
(Alt Same)
Both:
There were times when we took our chances
There were times we were damn good dancers
There were times when we heard all the answers
In the beating of the drummer and the riches of the rock and the roll
I can see right through your soul
There were times we had it all
There were times we had it all
Boy:
If your fears could only be forgotten
We could pull all of the barriers down
Would you follow your dreams' desire
Would you follow your secret dreams and forbidden fire
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LXXVIII. Snowdrops
WAN Heralds of the sun and summer gale!
That seem just fallen from infant Zephyrs' wing;
Not now, as once, with heart revived I hail
Your modest buds, that for the brow of Spring
Form the first simple garland--Now no more
Escaping for a moment all my cares,
Shall I, with pensive, silent, step explore
The woods yet leafless; where to chilling airs
Your green and pencil'd blossoms, trembling, wave.
Ah! ye soft, transient, children of the ground,
More fair was she on whose untimely grave
Flow my unceasing tears! Their varied round
The Seasons go; while I through all repine:
For fix'd regret, and hopeless grief are mine.
poem by Charlotte Smith
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Cyclical
CYCLICAL
life blooms
so blooms flowers
fragrance spreads
by wind
wind creates ripples
on rivers and seas
howling seas on beaches
murmurs of the river
brings people around
dwelling spreads
far and near
man’s greed’s so high
want to reach the sky
cracks hole in ozone-layers
that changes weather
the thought of doomsday
all around brings sigh
when reason wins over greed
man’ll go for your lotus feet
trees will grow forest spread
rivers flowers birds sing to greet
everlasting praise of Nature
life blooms
so blooms flowers
fragrance spreads
by wind
wind brings ripples
on rivers on seas
peace prevails all over
Rajkumar @Singapore
09-07-2009
@Rajkumar Mukherjee
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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Sleepy Hollow
Bill dees
Theres a place I call sleepy hollow
Where I go when youre not around
Theres a brook running clear in the meadow
I lose my blues in its sound
The wind and the trees from the hollow
Whisper secrets of life in my ear
When I lay down in their shadows
I dream that youre still here
The bubbling babbling brook is your laughter
The wind blowing softly,your touch
Ive found the one thing Im after
Your love, your love means so much
Until you say that you love me
And make all my dreams come true
Ill go down to my sleepy hollow
And dream my dreams of you
Ill go down to my sleepy hollow
And dream my dreams of you
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mushera Fog
It steals down the mountain the Mushera fog
Across the mountain road and cloaks Togher Bog
On damp and wet days in Winter and the latter Fall
The traffic goes up and down road at a crawl
From the high road a steep dropp down the mountain side
And to drive fast there in the fog is a wish for suicide
But what a beautiful drive on a pleasant Spring day
When the hawthorns are in their white flowers of the May
A beautiful view of the countryside for miles around
As you drive up and down the high road on the higher ground
But from mid Fall to early Spring on damp weather of low cloud
The high Mushera road is cloaked in a gray shroud
As the low clouds of rain down the mountain side blow
For to cloak Togher Bog and the valley below.
poem by Francis Duggan
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You Were The Last High
I am alone
But adored
By a hundred thousand more
Then I said
When you were the last
Then I have known love
Like a whore
From at least ten thousand more
Then I swore
When you were the last
When you were the last high
High
High
High
You were awake
And I should have stayed
But I wandered
I was only out for a day
Out for a day
It was Chicago
For a moment
And then
It was
Paris and London
For a few
Days
Now I am alone
But adored
By a hundred thousand more
Then I swore
When you were the last
When you were the last high
High
High
High
And you were the last high
High
High
High
I was the first
To have spoken
And I said
Just about
All the things
You shouldn't say
So maybe you loved me
But now
Maybe you don't
And
Maybe you'll call me
Maybe you won't
Oh
So I am alone
But adored
By a hundred thousand more
Then I said
When you were the last
And I have known love
Like a whore
From at least ten thousand more
Then I swore
When you were the last
When you were the last high
High
High
High
And you were the last high
High
High
High
song performed by by Dandy Warhols
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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