Drinking in the Mountains
Mountain flowers open in our faces.
You and I are triply lost in wine.
I’m drunk, my friend, sleepy. Rise and go.
With your dawn lute, return, if you wish, and stay.
Related quotes
Drinking With Someone In The Mountains
As the two of us drink
together, while mountain
flowers blossom beside, we
down one cup after the other
until I am drunk and sleepy
so that you better go!
Tomorrow if you feel like it
do come and bring your lute
along with you!
Come Into My Dreams
Come into my dreams like beauty flash stirred by passion
The arms might break me before the dawn
But it won't hurt
Just never hide there with midnight flowers raising black buds and thorns
To bruise the skin against the outbreak
Do come into my dreams even with words too late to dream
Or to early to rise
Be the fountain and the foam of seed
Whose whiteness I can drink in darkness
Be drunk like the drunk wave rolling against the rocks
Be drunk like a drunk cloud surfing the sky
Be drunk like joy that swallows the night
To forget everything
I can give flowers I can give water
Just never come into my dreams
Without a smile of life quivering in your eyes
And if in pain a death toll will ring tiny bells of my love
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After the Lotus Flowers Have Opened
Lotus flower open after west lake good
Carry wine come time
Not use flag pennant
Before behind red curtain green canopy follow
Paint boat punt enter flower deep place
Scent float gold cup
Mist rain small small
One piece pipes song drunk in return
After the lotus flowers have opened- West Lake is good.
Come for a while and bring some wine,
There's no need for flags and pennants,
Before and behind, red curtains and green canopies follow.
The painted boat is punted in to where the flowers are thick.
Fragrance floats round golden cups,
Mist and rain are so, so fine,
In a snatch of pipes and song I drunkenly return.
poem by Ouyang Xiu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Get Drunk
Always be drunk.
That's it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time's horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
"Time to get drunk!
Don't be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"
poem by Charles Baudelaire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bluebird Wine
(rodney crowell)
Baby brought me in out off the highway
Made me put my money in the bank, bank
Straightened out my crooked way of thinking
Made it purely pleasure when I drank
And its all right
Ive just hit my stride
Right off the bat
Lord, Im drunk on bluebird wine
Baby taught me a diffrent way of thinkin
Like how to spend my evenings here at home
Listning to the music on the radio
Drinking all the bluebird we can hold
And its all right
Ive just hit my stride
Right off the bat
Lord, Im drunk on bluebird wine
Baby says hed really love a party
Well get some friends together feelin fine
Any friend of mine is worth his habit
A belly full of babys bluebird wine
And its all right
Ive just hit my stride
Right off the bat
Lord, Im drunk on bluebird wine
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evening Song
WHEN all the weary flowers,
Worn out with sunlit hours,
Droop o'er the garden beds
Their little sleepy heads,
The dewy dusk on quiet wings comes stealing;
And, as the night descends,
The shadows troop like friends
To bring them healing.
So, weary of the light
Of life too full and bright,
We long for night to fall
To wrap us from it all;
Then death on dewy wings draws near and holds us,
And like a kind friend come
To children far from home,
With love enfolds us.
But when the night is done,
Fresh to the morning sun,
Their little faces yet
With night's sweet dewdrops wet,
The flowers awake to the new day's new graces;
And we, ah! shall we too
Turn to the daydawn new
Our tear-wet faces?
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morning’s Glory
Dawn breaks the stranglehold
of a sleepy dusky night.
The sun peers above the eastern horizon
as morning begins to break into full glory.
Flowers open their petals wide
to allow the warmth inside;
birds leave their roosts
to wander the sky.
The morning’s glory soars
on delicate golden wings
as the early birds begin to sing.
Morning’s glory looks down on all
awakening with sleepy eyes,
preparing them to go
through a brand new day
that starts with the morning’s glory
and the sun shining bright.
9 December 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slaves of Thy Shining Eyes
SLAVES of thy shining eyes are even those
That diadems of might and empire bear;
Drunk with the wine that from thy red lip flows,
Are they that e'en the grape's delight forswear.
Drift, like the wind across a violet bed,
Before thy many lovers, weeping low,
And clad like violets in blue robes of woe,
Who feel thy wind-blown hair and bow the head.
Thy messenger the breath of dawn, and mine
A stream of tears, since lover and beloved
Keep not their secret; through my verses shine,
Though other lays my flower's grace have proved
And countless nightingales have sung thy praise.
When veiled beneath thy curls thou passest, see,
To right and leftward those that welcome thee
Have bartered peace and rest on thee to gaze!
But thou that knowest God by heart, away!
Wine-drunk, love-drunk, we inherit Paradise,
His mercy is for sinners; hence and pray
Where wine thy cheek red as red erghwan dyes,
And leave the cell to faces sinister.
Oh Khizr, whose happy feet bathed in life's fount,
Help one who toils afoot-the horsemen mount
And hasten on their way; I scarce can stir.
Ah, loose me not! ah, set not Hafiz free
From out the bondage of thy gleaming hair!
Safe only those, safe, and at liberty,
That fast enchained in thy linked ringlets are.
But from the image of his dusty cheek
Learn this from Hafiz: proudest heads shall bend,
And dwellers on the threshold of a friend
Be crownèd with the dust that crowns the meek.
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After The Downfall
my friend, please listen,
a downfall is not permanent
for we too are like air
we do not stay
as stone forever
we transform this self
into dew hanging on
a the leaf of dawn
we do not stay like that
forever
we go with the seasons of
life
we transform to the dictates
of the sun
we soon become air
we evaporate
we rise and rise and keep on rising
until we become
the quintessence
of this universe
some have become
atoms of the stars
and they look down
that stone and shine
upon its hardness
wishing to speak
again about transformation
and truth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sleepy Head
Terry widlake
Sleepy head isnt it time that you were in your bed?
The sandman will be coming soon, with a dream or two
Perhaps tomorrow they will all come true
Ooh sleepy head whispering all the things that we left unsaid
And so its time to make your weary way into a brand new day, tomorrow
The little pigs were certain that the wolf was here to stay
But in your dreams youll chase that wolf away
Hey sleepy head the princess has been saved and the dragons dead
Goodnight, and may God keep you in his sight
Safe until the early light, sleepy head, sleepy head, sleepy head.....
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Deaner Was Talkin About
The wash is out, its hanging up
And all I have is nothing
Nothing to do, nothing to say
I think I must be dreaming
The sun comes up and Im all washed out
Is this what deaner was talkin about
I dont think I will ever return again my friend
If I was king Id wear a ring
And never hurt my people
Id stay alert and dress to kill
I might even slip you something
The sun comes up and Im all washed out
Is this what deaner was talkin about
I dont think I will ever return again my friend
The sun comes up and Im all washed out
Is this what deaner was talkin about
I dont think I will ever return again my friend
I do not think I will ever return again, my friend [2x]
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Deaner Was Talkin About
The wash is out, its hanging up
And all I have is nothing
Nothing to do, nothing to say
I think I must be dreaming
The sun comes up and Im all washed out
Is this what deaner was talkin about
I dont think I will ever return again my friend
If I was king Id wear a ring
And never hurt my people
Id stay alert and dress to kill
I might even slip you something
The sun comes up and Im all washed out
Is this what deaner was talkin about
I dont think I will ever return again my friend
The sun comes up and Im all washed out
Is this what deaner was talkin about
I dont think I will ever return again my friend
I do not think I will ever return again, my friend [2x]
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Also Rise (Homage to Maya Angelou)
I have been used, abused, mistreated, and even overheated, but still I also rise
I have been denied, compromised, and even ostracized, but yet I still also rise
I have been called outdated, jaded, and mutilated, but here I still also rise
I have been hated, mentally castrated, looted, and even been uprooted, but still I also rise
I have been scorned, adorned, and reborn, but yet I still also rise
I have been beaten up, beaten down, and almost ended up underground but yet I also still rise
I have been cheated on, crapped on, and walked on but yet I still also rise
I have been treat as a fool, used as a tool, treated so cruel, but yet I still seem to also rise
I have been neglected, disrespected, rejected, and yes I also rise
I have been a token, my heart has broken, I’ve misspoken, and I still also rise
I have been accused, bruised, refused, confused, and even reused, but I still also rise
I have been pushed to the side, kicked in the backside, been steamed dried, and yes I even cried, but yet I still also rise
I have been slapped in the face, can’t return to my birthplace, entered foreign airspace, and felt a woman’s warm embrace, yet I still also rise
I have been the victim of oppression, obsession, the recession, and a downward transgression but here I still also rise
I have been battered, life shattered, lost everything that mattered, yet I still also rise
I have felt the hurt, treated like dirt, forgetting to stay alert, and for all that it is worth I still will also rise
poem by Wilfred Mellers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost Horizons
The last horizons I can see are filled with bars and factories
And in them all we fight to stay awake...
Drink enough of anything to make this world look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
She had nothing left to say so she said she loved me
I stood there grateful for the lie...
Drink enough of anything to make this girl look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
Turn summer trees to bones and ice
Turn insect songs against the night
With words we build and words we break
Im drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves...
Drink enough of anything to make myself look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sol
sol
the sun still brightly shining to the glory
of her husband and two sons
sleepy
from too much work
and yet still manages an email or two
to assure us
that everything is okay,
that life is beautiful
that life is fine
with everyone
wishing me and my wife
to have a vacation somewhere,
well,
sol,
my friend, the sun
may you keep shining
through and through
let the sunshine
come
let the flowers grow
let the grass be greener
as we take
our glimpses too
of the moon
this evening
just the two of us together in silence,
because we are not sleepy yet,
thanks.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waking from Drunken Sleep on a Spring Day.
Life is a dream. No need to stir.
Remembering this I’m drunk all day.
Lying helpless beside the porch,
Waking to see the deep garden.
One bird calls among the flowers.
Ask myself what’s the season?
Song of the oriole in Spring breezes,
Voice of beauty sadly moves me.
Is there wine? Ah, fill the cup.
Sing and watch the white moon rise,
until song’s end and sense is gone.
Friends
Just sit yourself down friend
Pull up a chair friend
There aint nobody here friend
But the people you need
Roll yourself a joint friend
Empty your head friend
Make yourself at home friend
This is where you belong
Chorus:
Put your feet up on the fire
If it makes you feel much better
Have a glass of homegrown wine
Dont you think it tastes fine
Tear you away friend
On a planet to space friend
Faster than you can think friend
Youll be there before you know
(agnew, charlton, mccafferty, sweet)
Mountain music/carlin music
1972 nazareth (dunfermline) ltd.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gartloney Rats
The boys from the village were festering sore
For a day on the rant with some music and more
Theyd drink porter in mauras way over in fore
And never get drunk but stay sober
There was harry the banjo and dunne of the swan
With whose bone from the wing hed beat the bodhran
And the song that hed sing was of ganders and all
Hed never get drunk but stay sober
There was woods on the guitar and auld squeeze box too
Who came from a time before aeroplanes flew
Hed sit in a corner and mule quite a few
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
There was mahon the singer who knew all the songs
And never was known to put a foot wrong
Hed sing through the night till the break o the morn
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
Then harry the banjo now there was a man
A bottomless pit if ever there was one
More porter hed lower that there was in the land
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
Well the gartloney rats would play away
Theyd play for the pints and not for the pay
And the pints theyd go down in the usual way
And theyd never get drunk but stay sober
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silhouette of my soul
The dark mountain behind me looks so different
For every time I look it’s changed
My soul has the same identity
For when I think I have finally got it under control
The silhouette changes
The mountain starts it day dark with a siloute that defines it
My soul is always in dark
The mountain gets more defined as sun comes up
My soul is always dark
The mountain end up dark again
The silhouette changes
My soul starts it day
Always hung-over from last days confusing silhouettes
so I begin clawing my way out of the deep hole
Even in sleep my soul is confusing
I dream about things that always seem in the dark
Then one of my silhouettes comes up and shines all the darkness away
Bring a smile to day that started with a mountain of undefined silhouettes
I can hold this in place as long as I need it, because I do…always
So when the darkness approaches to make the mountain undefined
It silhouette lost again my silhouette of counterfeit dies a death everyday
In comes the dark
Drunk again with so many silhouettes of my soul that want to be
I fall down under my mountain of darkness in a silhouette
My soul surrounded by light, but the face of my soul in the dark
Hidden the truth of what all these moments mean
So I pass out drunk on confusion for the next day will be the same
The silhouette of my soul
Alone And Drinking Under The Moon
Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.