Dreams of Vienna
Solstice elves quiet as a fox
Light and snow on the morning pines
Vivaldi writes for the seasons
Symphony of grace and beauty
I wish I were in Vienna
Covered in the jeweled myths
Calling Bach, Mozart, Beethoven
Evening gowns swirl to a waltz
Fall leaves dance like elegant notes
Carriages with ladies dressed like flowers
Poise, science, enlightenment
Music reflecting faith and hope
Male and female in Greek ideals
The reformation sighing freedom
Renascence spurring the arts
Classic forms touching the world
Concert Halls like portals of angels
Vivacious architecture for the ages
A string section like a bolt of heaven
Dreams of Vienna under the starry night
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Related quotes
Take This Waltz
Now in vienna theres ten pretty women
Theres a shoulder where death comes to cry
Theres a lobby with nine hundred windows
Theres a tree where the doves go to die
Theres a piece that was torn from the morning
And it hangs in the gallery of frost
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws
Oh I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallways where loves never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and death
Dragging its tail in the sea
Theres a concert hall in vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
Theres a bar where the boys have stopped talking
Theyve been sentenced to death by the blues
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz its been dying for years
Theres an attic where children are playing
Where Ive got to lie down with you soon
In a dream of hungarian lanterns
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And Ill see what youve chained to your sorrow
All your sheep and your lilies of snow
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
With its Ill never forget you, you know!
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz ...
And Ill dance with you in vienna
Ill be wearing a rivers disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And Ill bury my soul in a scrapbook,
With the photographs there, and the moss
And Ill yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And youll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist
Oh my love, oh my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Its yours now. its all that there is.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Heaven Also (Revised)
The worst thing about heaven is it only boasts
two world-class composers: Liszt and Elgar,
the best of the rest – Bach, Beethoven, Brahms
and Mozart apparently all went to hell:
I shall gladly join them there
Hope to meet Bizet and Strauss as well and that
some enchanting demon finally teaches me to
dance properly, preferably a waltz and a
wonderful tango – like the one Death danced
dramatically with Renate Flitworth
I hope Vivaldi with his regular beat and
Stravinsky with his musical themes in
single row explosions are in heaven
also where I shall not be – and never
need listen to again
“Good Omens” – Terry Pratchett
Corgi edition published 1991
p 55
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Chaconne
Wood polished into angel sighs
World of pirates hears the morning
Great steeples chime like hope
Masons sending their sons to masters
Good men born into fire
Stradivarius in the hands of love
Medieval wood varnished in renascence
Hellene in Austrian Pines
Tchaikovsky sees a star
Echoes of reason romantic as science
New fronteers sired in enlightemnet
Preludes with kings with tears
Lovely rosewood tables
Cherrywood chairs on blue gold carotets
Sculpted maidens of the river chalice
Sequitor sirens chittel sumptous limmericks
Born into the rezins of beauty
Ballay graceful as dignity
Ideals unfold on a elegant violin
Johann Sebatian Bach is immortal
Chaconne like wings of heaven
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Little Viennese Waltz
In Vienna there are ten little girls,
a shoulder for death to cry on,
and a forest of dried pigeons.
There is a fragment of tomorrow
in the museum of winter frost.
There is a thousand-windowed dance hall.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this close-mouthed waltz.
Little waltz, little waltz, little waltz,
of itself of death, and of brandy
that dips its tail in the sea.
I love you, I love you, I love you,
with the armchair and the book of death,
down the melancholy hallway,
in the iris's darkened garret,
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this broken-waisted waltz.
In Vienna there are four mirrors
in which your mouth and the ehcoes play.
There is a death for piano
that paints little boys blue.
There are beggars on the roof.
There are fresh garlands of tears.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz that dies in my arms.
Because I love you, I love you, my love,
in the attic where the children play,
dreaming ancient lights of Hungary
through the noise, the balmy afternoon,
seeing sheep and irises of snow
through the dark silence of your forehead
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this " I will always love you" waltz
In Vienna I will dance with you
in a costume with
a river's head.
See how the hyacinths line my banks!
I will leave my mouth between your legs,
my soul in a photographs and lilies,
and in the dark wake of your footsteps,
my love, my love, I will have to leave
violin and grave, the waltzing ribbons
poem by Federico García Lorca
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Will I Go To Bed With You
Will I?
I dunno, I might like you enough
in Chicago
enough to go to bed with you
yes, maybe Chicago in the fall
but come to think of it, sorry, no
not even in Chicago, not even in the fall
But perhaps, maybe in Vienna
yes, i'm certain of it now
Definitely in Vienna
yes, in Vienna in the spring,
I would go to bed with you
But Then
it isn't spring, we aren't in Vienna
so No
poem by Cin Sweet Fields
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Lady Of Gold
Dreams from Vienna, vernal troubadours
Violins play soft, cafes in romantic light
French poets with symbols of rebellious mirth
Walk the ancient streets, parades of ghosts
Cobble stone, centuries, clocks, silver myth
Surrealistic images from the sea of Kings
Royal crimson halls where queens smile
Crystal glasses of gentry, castles, carriages
Narrow roads roll through the Alps
Aegean verse from a sea of Keats
Spanish romance with eye's of fire
Crimson goddesses in castles of Italy
Paris and Rome under a full moon
Dance the night in satin dresses
Mediterranean art in moonlit soul
My elegant love is a lady of gold
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Goodnight Vienna
.....last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, she made me uptight, ah-hah-hah....
-oh gee! Im worn out! can we try another, can you hear what hes saying?
I took my baby to a party last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, she made me uptight, ah-hah-hah,
Up come a butcher with her ju jus alight, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Felt like a bohunk but I kept up my cool, ah-hah-hah,
Green as a frog, man, I was back into school, ah-hah-hah,
Zipped up my mouth cause I was starting to drool, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
She said she loved me but I knew she was lying, ah-hah-hah,
Felt like an arab who was dancing through zion, ah-hah-hah,
Dont call no doctor when you just feel like crying, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Uhuh-
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
I took my baby to a party last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, it made me uptight, ah-hah-hah,
Up came a doct.... with his needles in sight, ah-hah-hah,
Its all down to goodnight vienna.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodnight Vienna
.....last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, she made me uptight, ah-hah-hah....
-oh gee! Im worn out! can we try another, can you hear what hes saying?
I took my baby to a party last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, she made me uptight, ah-hah-hah,
Up come a butcher with her ju jus alight, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Felt like a bohunk but I kept up my cool, ah-hah-hah,
Green as a frog, man, I was back into school, ah-hah-hah,
Zipped up my mouth cause I was starting to drool, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
She said she loved me but I knew she was lying, ah-hah-hah,
Felt like an arab who was dancing through zion, ah-hah-hah,
Dont call no doctor when you just feel like crying, ah-hah-hah,
Its all da-da-da-down to goodnight vienna.
Uhuh-
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
Git it up!
I took my baby to a party last night, ah-hah-hah,
She was so beautiful, it made me uptight, ah-hah-hah,
Up came a doct.... with his needles in sight, ah-hah-hah,
Its all down to goodnight vienna.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Untouched by Grace, but not by Snow
Waking up, noticing the ground
To my surprise I am surround by snow
Every detail in which was lay
With perfect precise wonder
In this most daring betray of beauty
And all is quiet
All is so annoyingly quiet
The dirt that is covered peeks through the ground
Destroying what was once beauty
That was pronounced by the glistened snow
And all I can do is wonder
How this world become simple to lay
When sleep takes us on we lay
And all is deeply quiet
Our dreams become our wonder
Weather we stand on solid ground
An undefined map layer out by snow
Creates to us sleeping beauty
But what is this beauty?
And where does it lay?
What is understood to be a lie as white as snow
And all has become a false quiet
Life, which puts our burdens to the ground
And here we are left to wonder
To whom to we place our wonder
The one who holds onto your beauty?
Who picks you up off the ground
And will be contempt as you lay
This is the lovely quiet
Dawn, of our love as pure as snow
To ask what is this snow
Pure, grace, love to which we wonder
Making this moment freeze in quiet
Holding unto this betrayed beauty
Which pours unto us as we lay
To the emissive ground
To become as pure as snow is beauty
But do we wonder under stars we lay?
And all was quiet as the snow flake touched ground
Music In Our Hearts
Music in our bones music in our hearts
Music in the air singing from a lark,
Sailing ‘cross the river moon
Beethoven sends dreams of the sonatas swoon,
Chopin lulls the senses, for applause,
Snowdrops ring the dainty bells cause
Daffodils start their famous dance,
With a Strauss waltz wafting a lilting breeze of trance
Music in our bones music in our hearts
Music in the air singing from a lark.
Memories of a T S Elliot poem find
Greatness to flow from Andrew Lloyd’s mind.
To drowned us in dreams of falling leaves,
Then Mozart lifts our souls up to the eaves,
His magic his mighty requiem of love
His music to God of all rises far above.
Music in our bones music in our hearts,
Music in the air singing from a lark.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Six String Music
Six string music
By: jimmy buffett, g.e. smith
1994
Turn off the t.v.
Turn off the crap
Kick off your high heels
Climb up in my lap
Chorus:
And Ill play music
A song from me to you
Simple six string music
A ballad or the blues
No interruptions
>from the telephone
Dont need call waitin
Just you and me alone
Chorus:
And my six string music (six string music)
A song from me to you
Simple six string music (six string music)
A ballad or the blues
Oh I remember that night in africa
My daughter and my little guitar
Straddling the equator
The king of zanzibar
Those shy black hidden faces
They didnt know me from adams cat
But the words and the singin
And the people in a ring
And the whole night went like that
Now some folks like icing
Some folks like cake
Some swim in the ocean
Some paddle in a lake
Well you can get into beethoven
Or you can groove on jimmy reed
But keep it simple stupid
All we really need is
Chorus:
Six string music (six string music)
A song from me to you
Simple six string music (six string music)
A ballad or the blues
Six string music (six string music)
Aint no symphony
Its just six string music (six string music)
So elementary
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vivaldi
Down the dark wooded trail
Into the deep forest, bit by bit I go;
Stepping into each season
A symphony of vibrant music grows.
Each branch and blade
Glimmers and waves;
While the sun, rain and snow
With irrepressible delight raves.
Every path of life
Is sung to here,
As the music soars...
For the great Conductor of it all is so very near.
Animal and human together enter
Bliss beyond compare,
Dance in the wind, and in life,
So fully aware.
All the seasons
And all being become one,
In this lush garden
Where perfect Music and life play
Forever in the sun.
(this came to me while listening to Vivaldi 'The Four Seasons', thus the title.)
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Lost In Music
LOST IN MUSIC
every night she liked
to take off her clothes to
Hungarian Rhapsody
she would bathe
every second Sunday
in Mozart's Symphony No.40
curiously she
would fall asleep to
The Flight of the Bumblebee
her every activity
scored to a music
she adored
mute
she let the music
speak for her
happy
trapped inside
her world of music
sometimes I glimpsed her
staring out from behind the bars
of musical notes
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Longİ Ng Through The Seasons
ARE WE CHANGİ NG...or the seasons...the last leaves of the trees...tend no to fall from the trees...the last flowers of fall tend not to bloom again.....are we changing or the seasons...are we changing or the seasons...happy tiny fingers caress the whiteness of the falling snow near the window pane...at the other side...bare feet are shivering in the snow...as though match seller girl of andersen has revived again..some people are begging in the wilderness for piece of bread..are we cahanging or the seasons..an old woman her hair bleached by snow opening her hand..for a stand...are we chaNGİ NG OR THE SEASONS....the last flowers of the seasons of the seasons tend not to bloom again...I envy the struggle between the seasons for being and overwhelming....and when every season changes...I long for a new fresh life and world towards goodnes...beauty...peace and brother hood.............
poem by Metin Sahin
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Not Communicating To Oneself
Listening to Beethoven we sense
the inspiration pouring from the master.
Johann Sebastian Bach sounds as intense,
but far more distant from disaster.
He seems to want to have a conversation
with anyone prepared to pay attention.
Although we lose him when his great elation
exceeds the limits of our comprehension,
we know that he is trying to communicate,
as if he’d just found, lying on a shelf,
the notes he’s trying to communicate
to us, and not, like Ludwig, to himself.
The proofs of Beethoven’s profundity
lay in the notes that for him had no sound,
while Bach, with effortless fecundity,
encouraged all of us to be profound.
J. M. Coetzee contrasts his relationship to the music of Beethoven and J. S. Bach. Whereas he imagines Beethoven as a genius from whom inspiration pours forth while oblivious to the people who may be listening to him he imagines J. S. Bach as a teacher who is attempting to instruct him while he sits next him while he is playing. As a rider, Coetzee added that there are moments when J. S. Bach’s inspiration exceeds the listener’s comprehension. These are the moments of his greatest inspiration. Listening to this report I was reminded of Richard Eder’s comment on Ceotzee when reviewing his book “Diary of a Bad Year” (“A Writer, A Muse, Their Laundry, ” NYT, January 1,2008) :
I think of the childlike simplicity of late Beethoven on a profound return trip from profundity.”
10/7/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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For my Vienna is as different from what they call Vienna now as the quick is different from the dead.
quote by Erich von Stroheim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance Dance…
Dance dance to the evening
In a dim golden flow
As the leaves sing
In their breezy breezy blow
Morning comes to live
Glowing waves of day
More than enough to give
Of its colors golden lay
Dreams that were of night
Are now all laying still
For the daylight bright
Those aspirations fulfill
Dance dance to the night
Fill the moods of song
In your dream starry flight
Those dreamy feelings long
The stars are out to shine
Within their golden glow
Thru space in horizon line
That the skies now show
Harmony of deep freedom
To the darkness remote
Colors of the ad-infinitum
Opening dawn’s fireboat
Dance dance to the evening
In a dim golden flow
As the leaves sing
In their breezy breezy blow
Morning comes to live
Glowing waves of day
More than enough to give
Of its colors golden lay
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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My idea was to go to Vienna to study conducting and perhaps play in an orchestra first, so I thought before I got to Vienna I could do with a little training in Paris.
quote by Harry Mathews
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was an Old Man of Vienna,
Who lived upon Tincture of Senna;
When that did not agree,
He took Camomile Tea,
That nasty Old Man of Vienna.
by Edward Lear from A Book of Nonsense (1846)
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Voiceless! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Climbed the stairs slowly due to arthritis
Rummaged in the bag for the house keys.
Unlocked the main door, and wearily stepped in
Laughing Buddha seemed to mock and grin…
Kept her stuff, and rushed to the refrigerator.
Took out frozen food along with a bottle of water.
The house was quiet, after the din of work place.
Badly, needed some solitude and her own little space.
Just then she got two messages from her family on mobile.
Hubby- sorry, a client meet, she read with a taste of bile.
Son- ma, last moment decided to go for Oscar winner,
‘Slum Dog Millionaire’, so please don’t wait for dinner.
Was she mad or glad when she threw the TV remote?
She took out her pen and made some notes.
Later, she made a salad and chicken roast
And had it with chilly pepper and garlic toast.
Outside the cicadas were performing a concert
There was a light drizzle, as she had a dessert.
A shower of rain and cicadas come alive.
Is it because they have voiceless wives?
In his book ‘The wonderful world of Insects, trees and wild flowers’
Ruskin Bond, quotes a Greek poet
‘Happy are the Cicadas for they have voiceless wives.’
Apparently, female Cicadas are dumb.the Greek used to keep male Cicadas in cage, as they loved their music.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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