En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Dewdrop

AH, be not vain. In yon flower-bell,
As rare a pearl, did I appear,
As ever grew in ocean shell,
To dangle at a Helen’s ear.

So was I till a cruel blast
Arose and swept me to the ground,
When, in the jewel of the past,
Earth but a drop of water found.

poem by Joseph Skipsey
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Pearls

A pearl in an ocean of dreams,
What can I say, shot the beams?

A pearl in an ocean of hopes,
All I got was a lot of nopes.

A pearl in an ocean of fears,
Just hand me the beers.

Why a pearl in an ocean,
It has no motion?

(The pearl in me, it's my birthstone.)

poem by Andrea Szyhowski
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Take Me To The River

(a. green, m. hodges)
Producer: martyn ware
Album: non-album track
B-side of the us break every rule single
B-side of the dutch girls single
Wash me!
I dont know why I love you like I do
With all the changes I keep going through
Lost all my money and my happiness
And I havent had the worst of it yet
I wanna know, tell me, tell me why
I love it still
Take me to the river
Wash me down
Yeah, drop me in the water
Back to my fishing ground
And I dont know why they treat me so bad
Think of all the good things that Ive never had
Love is an ocean I wont forget
My sweet sixteen I will never regret
I wanna know, wont you tell me, tell me why
I love it still
Cmon, river
Wet me down
Yeah, dip me in the water
Back to my fishing ground
And hold me, squeeze me
Just love me, and tease me
Till I cant, till I cant
Take it no more
I dont know why you treat me so bad
Think of all the good things that Ive never had
Loves an ocean I wont forget
My sweet sixteen I will never regret
I wanna know, you tell me, tell me why
I love it still
Take me to the river
And dip me in the water
Take me to the river
Drop me in the water
Take me to the river
Drop me in the water
Yeah take me to the water
My fishing ground
Wash me, wet me
Squeeze me, and tease me
Washing me down

song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Me To The River

I dont know why I love her like I do
All the changes you put me through
Take my money, my cigarettes
I havent seen the worst of it yet
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Take me to the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down
I dont know why you treat me so bad
Think of all the things we could have had
Love is an ocean that I cant forget
My sweet sixteen I would never regret
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Push me in the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me
Hug me, squeeze me, love me, tease me
Till I cant, till I cant, till I cant take no more of it
Take me to the water, drop me in the river
Push me in the water, drop me in the river
Washing me down, washing me down
I dont know why I love you like I do
All the troubles you put me through
Sixteen candles there on my wall
And here am I the biggest fool of them all
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river and drop me in the water
Dip me in the river, drop me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down.

song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The wanderer

Upon a mountain height, far from the sea,
I found a shell,
And to my listening ear the lonely thing
Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing,
Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell.

How came the shell upon that mountain height?
Ah, who can say
Whether there dropped by some too careless hand,
Or whether there cast when Ocean swept the Land,
Ere the Eternal had ordained the Day?

Strange, was it not? Far from its native deep,
One song it sang,--
Sang of the awful mysteries of the tide,
Sang of the misty sea, profound and wide,--
Ever with echoes of the ocean rang.

And as the shell upon the mountain height
Sings of the sea,
So do I ever, leagues and leagues away,--
So do I ever, wandering where I may,--
Sing, O my home! sing, O my home! of thee.

1883.

poem by Eugene Field
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A shot rang out like lightning out of a gun

Goodbye to the land where the sun always shine,
to the blue sky that always is bright,
goodbye to the light that comes every day
and hello to that midnight which is cold and dark.

A shot rang out like lightning out of a gun
fading the sun while white vapour rose
out of a shot out armoured car,
I couldn’t close my eyes or look away.

Goodbye to that enemy tank stopped in its tracks
against a bank of earth
while my armoured car’s gun rang out
sending a phosphorus shell with fire from hell.

A rocket flew past with a flaming tail
like a star falling from the sky
before exploding against a tree with a blast

and goodbye to the enemy soldiers who fired it
while we moved past at speed
with a machinegun howling a great cry.

I heard that enemy commander weeping over the radio
while his frequencies were blocked
being in shock
and sounding like the voices of many men

crying in the anguish of death
as if a deadly net had been cast
and I wish that I could understand Spanish
but the noise was ear-splitting

and it was goodbye to tank after tank
and goodbye with blast after blast and going in quick
stopping, firing and running away fast

and every enemy armoured car we found
only got one shot
till the last shell had being fired

and tired we went to fetch some more,
ate in a hurry before being wished good luck
and going back to war.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Lector thaasen

I read once of a flower that lonely grew,
Apart, with trembling stem and pale of hue;
The mountain-world of cold and strife
Gave little life
And less of color.

A botanist the flower chanced to see
And glad exclaimed: Oh, this must sheltered be,
Must seed produce, renewing birth,
In sun-warmed earth
Become a thousand.

But as he dug and drew it from the ground,
Strange glitterings upon his hands he found;
For to its roots clung dust of golden hue;
The flower grew
On golden treasure!

And from the region wide came all the youth
To see the wonder; they divined the truth:
Here lay their country's future might;
A ray of light
From God that flower!-

This I recall now even while I mourn;
The Lord of life has lifted him and borne
From mountain-cold and wintry air
To fruitage fair
In warmth eternal.

For where the roots were of that life replete,
What gleams and glitters! See, they ran to meet
The shafts of wisdom's goodly mines,
The gold that shines
In veins of God's thought.

Now he is lifted up, to light are brought
The riches he to guard so faithful sought.
The treasures of our past are there,
And glintings rare
Of future riches.

Come, Norway's youth! Unearth to use the hoard
That round this heaven-borne flower's roots was stored!
To you his message! Hear and heed!
Achieve in deed
His dream and longing!

poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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I am thirsty

The fish says
I am thirsty
I live in water
there is water and water
but not a dropp of ocean water
can quench my thirst
because it is salty

So I search for mild water
which is rare in ocean
for which I have to enter
into the heart of ocean

Mildness always sprouts from the heart.

poem by Ramesh Rai
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If a Tree could Wander

Oh, if a tree could wander
and move with foot and wings!
It would not suffer the axe blows
and not the pain of saws!

For would the sun not wander
away in every night ?
How could at ev'ry morning
the world be lighted up?

And if the ocean's water
would not rise to the sky,
How would the plants be quickened
by streams and gentle rain?

The drop that left its homeland,
the sea, and then returned ?
It found an oyster waiting
and grew into a pearl.

Did Yusaf not leave his father,
in grief and tears and despair?
Did he not, by such a journey,
gain kingdom and fortune wide?

Did not the Prophet travel
to far Medina, friend?
And there he found a new kingdom
and ruled a hundred lands.

You lack a foot to travel?
Then journey into yourself!
And like a mine of rubies
receive the sunbeams? print!

Out of yourself ? such a journey
will lead you to your self,
It leads to transformation
of dust into pure gold!

poem by Rumi
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Hey Hey Helen

So at last youre free
Its the way you wanted it to be
And the price you pay
To become a woman of today
Is it worth the pain to see the children cry
Does it hurt when they ask for daddy
Hey hey helen
Now you live on your own
Hey hey helen
Can you make it alone
(yes you can)
So youre free at last
And beginning to forget the past
Does it make you sad
When you think about the life you ha-ha-had
But youre right, you had to take a second chance
So you fight to find your freedom
Hey hey helen
Now you live on your own
Hey hey helen
Can you make it alone
Hey hey helen (hey hey helen)
Whats the matter with you
Hey hey helen (hey hey helen)
Dont you know what to do
(yes you do)
(ahah, yes you do yes you do)
(ahah, yes you do yes you do)
Hey hey helen
Now you live on your own
Hey hey helen
Can you make it alone
Hey hey helen (hey hey helen)
Whats the matter with you
Hey hey helen (hey hey helen)
Dont you know what to do
Hey hey helen (hey hey helen)
Now you live on your own
Hey hey helen (hey hey helen)
(fade)

song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am your Flower

a beautiful flower waved in the wind
bent with the breeze.
you came along, and, noticed it.
stooping down to kneel in the dirt,
you examined its petals
felt its delicate leaves.
you picked the flower,
broke its roots,
and placed its unchained stem into your clasped hand.

you carried the flower with you
showed it to friends, acquaintances,
made everyone take notice
of the beauty you found.
and strangely enough,
this flower did not wilt,
but remained strongly vibrant
in its glass of water
as you carefully attended to it.

yet as the year continued,
you worried and wondered
if maybe your choosing of this flower hurt it.
was it meant to be connected with the earth?
should you have stood and turned away
without choosing this flower
and picking it up for your own?
was your breaking of the stem a mistake?
should you have left it?

these questions filled your mind.
yet your flower remained vibrant and strong
in her glass of water.
confined, no, now free.
and freedom brings its own nourishment.
nourishment that cannot be found
attached to the ground.
you chose the flower above the rest,
and picked her to be yours.

will you keep me?
you have freed me.
my glass of water is refreshing.
your hand clasping my stem is enough
for me to stay and choose you
above the sun, more than the soil,
i cannot wilt if you take care of me as you have.
for a broken stem and a chosen flower
cannot be returned.

i must be kept or left to die.

poem by Lors Dilouley
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The Water Drop

The miraculous water drop
Falling from the sky,
The romantic rain dropp
Dancing proudly on
The lower lip of a maiden,
The Divine water drop
As an elixir to the thirsty throat;
The dainty dropp for a hungry stomach;
The charming dew drop,
Shining on the morning leaves;
The kind water drop
Flowing into the fields,
The friendly tear drop
To soothe the wounded heart;
The holy dropp that washes our sins;
The Master water dropp
At the moral to tune stable
To the ups and downs of life
And for selfless service
To the co-species on the earth;
And lo, the Wild water drop
To flood and drought us
At our absurd misuse!

poem by Sasikala Kamandula
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Written In Aid Of The Leicester Lunatic Asylum.

Light ye the torch,--
The torch that hath expired;
The light with which was fired
Chamber and hall and porch:
But now the house is dark,
Its inmates rove in vain,
There shines but a bewildering spark:
Light ye the torch again!

Light ye the torch,--
It was a sacred flame,
From God in heaven it came:
All nature ye may search
To find a fire so bright,
And ye shall search in vain:
But quenched is all its glorious light:--
Light ye the torch again!

Light ye the torch,--
The ruthless winds have blown
Its tresses up and down,
Till it did scare and scorch,
Not bless: but one fell blast
Swept howling o'er the plain,
And left all darkness as it past;--
Light ye the torch again!

Light ye the torch,--
And ye shall blessed be:
Till many a bended knee
In chamber and in church
Shall serve ye: merciful,
Mercy ye shall obtain:
Your cup of glory shall be full:--
Light ye the torch again!

poem by Henry Alford
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A Chrysalis

My little Mädchen found one day
A curious something in her play,
That was not fruit, nor flower, nor seed;
It was not anything that grew,
Or crept, or climbed, or swam, or flew;
Had neither legs nor wings, indeed;
And yet she was not sure, she said,
Whether it was alive or dead.

She brought it in her tiny hand
To see if I would understand,
And wondered when I made reply,
"You've found a baby butterfly."
"A butterfly is not like this,"
With doubtful look she answered me.
So then I told her what would be
Some day within the chrysalis:
How, slowly, in the dull brown thing
Now still as death, a spotted wing,
And then another, would unfold,
Till from the empty shell would fly
A pretty creature, by and by,
All radiant in blue and gold.

"And will it, truly?" questioned she--
Her laughing lips and eager eyes
All in a sparkle of surprise--
"And shall your little Mädchen see?"
"She shall!" I said. How could I tell
That ere the worm within its shell
Its gauzy, splendid wings had spread,
My little Mädchen would be dead?

To-day the butterfly has flown,--
She was not here to see it fly,--
And sorrowing I wonder why
The empty shell is mine alone.
Perhaps the secret lies in this:
I too had found a chrysalis,
And Death that robbed me of delight
Was but the radiant creature's flight!

poem by Mary Emily Bradley
Submitted by anonym
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Art of Earth

Mother of nature, pretty goddess
Blue jewel, Eden’s drop
God’s darling, devil’s thrill
Earth is all creatures home

Whether barren, whether fertile
Whether buried, whether cultivated
From dangerous mountain, to the deepest hadal
Earth is source of living

Culture’s wisdom, war’s territory
Miracle’s drama, disaster tragedy
Dance of plant, song of animal
Earth is the guardian spirit

The evolution, the selection
The mood of season, the squirm of dragon
History’s trail, future’s hope
Earth never stops to grow

The place we stand, the sky we stare
The joy we drain, the doom we scared
Should be protected, till the last death
Earth is our beloved land and water

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Merchant

Imagine, mother, that you are to stay at home and I am to travel
into strange lands.
Imagine that my boat is ready at the landing fully laden.
Now think well, mother, before you say what I shall bring for
you when I come back.
Mother, do you want heaps and heaps of gold?
There, by the banks of golden streams, fields are full of
golden harvest.
And in the shade of the forest path the golden champ flower
drop on the ground.
I will gather them all for you in many hundred baskets.
Mother, do you want pearls big as the raindrops of autumn?
I shall cross to the pearl island shore.
There in the early morning light pearls tremble on the meadow
flowers, pearls drop on the grass, and pearls are scattered on the
sand in spray by the wild sea-waves.
My brother shall have a pair of horses with wings to fly among
the clouds.
For father I shall bring a magic pen that, without his
knowing, will write of itself.
For you, mother, I must have the casket and jewel that cost
seven kings their kingdom.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The shell

Look what a beautiful shell of ivory white
Recently thrown at the sands by the rushing tide
See what a lovely shell a pad of a soft sloth snail
Small and pure without the notoriety of a pearl

Lying on the back of sand hill so nigh to my foot
Brittle, frail spared by the violent breakers loot
Oh what mind what hand has made it so fairly well
Ah, empty, vacant from the creature that within it dwells

Its delicate spire and whorl
How exquisitely are weaved its stripes of colors in whole
A miracle of design, that lives through ancient time
No less in beauty and charm than a poet rhyme

A piece of beauty is called a 'shell' by man
Not a pearl, not a jewel but unmoving dull clumsy name
A 'shell' which does not recall any treasure or historical fame
Let him who did not create it call it as he can
He who passes by it without notice, this pleasure from his eyes to ban
Yet this beauty holds in the sands and its charm contends the same

Copy rights 2010
All rights reserved

poem by Isaac Ziv
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Sound Of The Bell

Found a place where we can talk
I found a way to reach a little ground
Keep your castle in my sandbox
Build it up so we can burn it down
Anyway I love my man
Love to keep him spinning round and round
Keep him feeling love for my hand
Any way to turn him inside out
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
Meet me up and down again
Every time is sweeter than the last
Once you get a taste of impact
Youre always hungry for the crash
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
And this is everything
I have loved
Yeah, I have loved
Break...
My...
Heart...
Down, I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
I dont wanna go down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight
I dont wanna be found at the sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
The sound of the bell
Yeah...
(I dont wanna be found in the sunshine
I dont wanna be dim like a night light
I dont wanna be down like the sunlight
I dont wanna go out like the moonlight...)

song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Education -an Ocean

Dean of the students is
The cloud that fills the ocean.
Educator of the novice is
The salt in the ocean.
Student of an institute is
The water in that ocean.
Notorious among the students are
The predators of the ocean.

Man without education...
Ocean without water.....
Un imaginable they are!

Cream of students is
The pearl of the oceans.
Men who perceived Einstein`s theory are
The seven oceans in the world.
Exam time for the students are
The waves and the tides of these oceans.
And the time of the results coming in is
A whirl pool in the oceans.

poem by Harika Kuncham
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The Fairy's Quest (Verses For The Children).

As the Fairy Queen sat on her gossamer throne
That sparkled with pearls of dew,
She suddenly cried to a sprite at her side-
'A mission 1 have for you!
Go, search every country and continent,
Till you find the jewel men call Content.'

Away at her bidding the fairy sped,
In quest of the gem so rare;
In north and in south, in east and in west,
He sought for it everywhere
From the frozen realm of the great Ice-King,
To the Eastern groves where the bulbuls sing.

Long days, and weeks, and months went by,
And still his quest was vain.
He sought it in many a monarch's Court,
And in Beauty's glittering train ;
But neither in crown, nor in diadem,
Could he find a trace of the precious gem.

While resting one day by a peasant's cot,
There fell on the fairy's ear
The sound of laughter rippling sweet,
And of melody, joyous and clear,
Which rose, like the thrush's wood-notes wild,
From the young mother's lips, as she fondled her child.

''Tis surely here where Content must be!'
He cried, with a sudden start.
Then his fairy eyes pierced the inmost depths
Of that peasant mother's heart:
And found at last was the treasure rare,
For, lo! the jewel he sought was there !

poem by William Baron
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Long John Brown and Little Mary Bell

Little Mary Bell had a Fairy in a Nut
Long John Brown had the Devil in his Gut
Long John Brown lovd Little Mary Bell
And the Fairy drew the Devil into the Nut-shell
Her Fairy skipd out and her Fairy skipd in
He laughd at the Devil saying Love is a Sin
The devil he raged and the Devil he was wroth
And the devil enterd into the Young Mans broth
He was soon in the Gut of the loving Young Swain
For John eat and drank to drive away Loves pain
But all he could do he grew thinner and thinner
Tho he eat and drank as much as ten Men for his dinner
Some said he had a Wolf in his stomach day and night
Some said he had the Devil and they guessd right
The fairy skipd about in his glory Joy and Pride
And he laughd at the Devil till poor John Brown died
Then the Fairy skipd out of the old Nut shell
And woe and alack for Pretty Mary Bell
For the Devil crept in when The Fairy skipd out
And there goes Miss Bell with her fusty old Nut

poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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