
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.
Related quotes
Poem to a Secret Love
You are the missing song to my heart
The eternal beauty of which I dream
That wry smile across my face
When I am lost deep in thought
You are the secret I have poorly kept
The muse to so many poems
The reason I believe in romance
My heart is still waiting for you
I look at the flowers in bloom
The full colour of spring
If I could take every flower
I would sow a garden in your name
The birds would come and sing
And butterflies fill the air
Yet none would be as lovely
Or as beautiful as you
I say your name and I’m smiling
I think of you and feel warm
You the secret I have so poorly kept
The one of who I so often dream
The missing song to my heart
The one who has taken my love
And turned it to a work of art
poem by Matthew Holloway

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Amidst The Flowers A Jug Of Wine
Amidst the flowers a jug of wine,
I pour alone lacking companionship.
So raising the cup I invite the Moon,
Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us.
Because the Moon does not know how to drink,
My shadow merely follows the movement of my body.
The moon has brought the shadow to keep me company a while,
The practice of mirth should keep pace with spring.
I start a song and the moon begins to reel,
I rise and dance and the shadow moves grotesquely.
While I'm still conscious let's rejoice with one another,
After I'm drunk let each one go his way.
Let us bind ourselves for ever for passionless journeyings.
Let us swear to meet again far in the Milky Way.
The Spring Song
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
One more time, I am on cloud nine!
One more time, I am on cloud nine!
To dance Bihu this season…
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
The spring breeze acts as my heart stirrer
The Red flowers redden my heart’s colour.
The beats of the Dhol cast its rhythmic flavour..
It rightly awakens some sleeping lover.
“O’ brothers, O’ boys! O’ come O’ girls! ! ”
“O’ brothers, O’ boys! O’O’O’ come O’ girls! ! ”
“Lets dance Bihu holding our hands together”
“Lets dance Bihu holding our hands together”.
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
Different castes and community…
It’s a hallmark of Assam’s beauty.
Keeping aside conflicts of ethnicity..
W’ll give Assam, golden identity..
“O’ spring lovers! O’ O’ O’ country lovers! ”
“O’ spring lovers! O’ O’ O’ country lovers! ”
“In this spring, let us pledge together! ”
“In this spring, let us pledge together! ”
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
One more time, I am on cloud nine! !
One more time, I am on cloud nine! !
To dance Bihu this season…
(Originally sung in Assamese as ‘Kuli Ketekiye Eenaley Beenaley’ by Dr. Bhupen Hazarika)
(Set to original tune)
poem by Kamal Jyoti Borah

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In the spring garden
In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden
poem by Matthew Holloway

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In This Garden
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
The flowers and the grass
The stones and the water
The sculptures and all art
Sing a song
A song of beauty
A song of harmony
A song of hope
The wind whistles gently
Is it to the east?
Or is it to the west?
I don’t know and I don’t need to know
All is so beautiful
Hush…
Hush humanity
Hush…
I can feel the scent on y nostrils
The scent of the flowers
The sound of the water nearby welcoming
Peace
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
With beautiful flowers
Where art lives
Hush
Play the music
Let the flowers live the music
Let the drums be heard
Let the music come to life
Play the music
Let it be heard here today
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
With very beautiful flowers
Where art comes to life
poem by Jack Shaka

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Song be Delicate
Let your song be delicate.
The skies declare
No war — the eyes of lovers
Wake everywhere.
Let your voice be delicate.
How faint a thing
Is Love, little Love crying
Under the Spring.
Let your song be delicate.
The flowers can hear:
Too well they know the tremble,
Of the hollow year.
Let your voice be delicate.
The bees are home:
All their day's love is sunken
Safe in the comb.
Let your song be delicate.
Sing no loud hymn:
Death is abroad . . . Oh, the black season!
The deep — the dim!
poem by John Shaw Neilson

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Hearing the Early Oriole
When the sun rose I was still lying in bed;
An early oriole sang on the roof of my house.
For a moment I thought of the Royal Park at dawn
When the Birds of Spring greeted their Lord from his trees.
I remember the days when I served before the Throne
Pencil in hand, on duty at the Ch'eng-ming;
At the height of spring, when I paused an instant from work,
Morning and evening, was this the voice I heard?
Now in my exile the oriole sings again
In the dreary stillness of Hsün-yang town ...
The bird's note cannot really have changed;
All the difference lies in the listener's heart.
If he could but forget that he lives at the World's end,
The bird would sing as it sang in the Palace of old.
Your song
Stars fill the sky,
Night is so young.
I feel so happy and high,
So, sing me a song.
Bring your guitar,
and raise up your voice.
Take me to a place so far,
away from people and their noise.
Your song takes me up,
and guide me through the haze.
Your song never stopped,
to throw me in a maze,
A maze where i'm breathless but free
where i love you and you love me.
Sing me that song about your life,
and how it started when we met.
Sing me that song about our love,
that song i shall never forget.
Sing me your song and bring me to life,
for those moments only..i surfive.
Angels took your song and wrote it in the sky,
with the beautiful cluster stars.
All the world saw it and they knew,
we are in love and you belong to my arms.
Your song is the love anthem,
As you sing that, you will wait for me,
you love me,
you need me.
Your song puts rules for love.
Sing your song all our lives,
i'll never get enough...
A Song Of Joy
as a bird on the streets
i had a natural song
which came right from my heart
in my voice
which was graced by god
as a bird on the stage
in front of a gathering
a mic frightening me
i seem to have lost my voice..yet
to keep the cheer going
iam compelled to sing a song
which is not mine
i haven't gathered a crowd
who would applaud my silence even
i sing a song without joy
to keep the cheer going
i know i don't have to try too hard
to escape the situation
i still have my wings to fly
which would take me to the meadows
a song of joy i could sing there
my soul would listen
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan

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A Bird and flower upon the tree
A bird and flower upon the tree,
Sweet peony and oriole,
Each of them a perfect soul,
Song and sweetness manifest
The bird and flower we love the best
Side by side on the tall tree.
'Flower who art sunlight and fire, flower who art perfume and joy,
Sweetest of sweet,
Ah for the gift withheld!
Ah for the given gift's alloy!
Why must thy spirit exhale only in beauty and breath?
Ah for the voice thou hast not! I by thy side on the tree,
Telling the world of love, pain, and all raptures that be,
Raptures of laughter and life, raptures of tears and death,
Singing my heart to heaven, singing to earth at my feet;
Silence in thee.'
'Bird who art dew-drops and flame, bird who art rapture and song,
Sweetest of sweet,
Lo there's a voice part mine, songs that to me too belong,
Songs that grew of my growth, voice that has breathed my breath.
Bird that while I sit mute singest beside on the tree,
Hast thou ever a song taking no perfume of me?
Give forth my sweetness in song; bird, thou art singing for both,
Singing our hearts to heaven, singing to earth at our feet;
My voice in thee.'
On the tree-top side by side,
Sweet oriole and peony;
Music rings through earth and sky,
Sweet and sweet in sweetness lost
The flower and bird we love the most,
On the tree-top side by side.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster

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My Song
I have no song
But still I sing
I let my voice
Fly on wing
For even though
My heart is bare
I have a song
Yet to spare
The song I sing
It has not one word
But far and wide
It's ever heard
My song is
Universal see
Song of wild
Always free
Sung by many
Sung by one
Sung beneath
A dying sun
Song of joy
Yet song of pain
Song of long nights
In the rain
Song of battles
Song of strife
Song of death
But also life
I'll sing untill
I have no breath
And then I'll sing
My song in death
poem by Anonymous Ghurl

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Drinking Alone in the Moonlight
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.
Version 2
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,
No friends at hand, so I poured alone;
I raised my cup to invite the moon,
Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
Now the moon had never learned about drinking,
And my shadow had merely followed my form,
But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.
Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.
Julia
Half of what i say is meaningless
But i say it just to reach you, julia
Julia, julia, oceanchild, calls me
So i sing a song of love, julia
Julia, seashell eyes, windy smile, calls me
So i sing a song of love, julia
Her hair of floating sky is shimmering, glimmering,
In the sun
Julia, julia, morning moon, touch me
So i sing a song of love, julia
When i cannot sing my heart
I can only speak my mind, julia
Julia, sleeping sand, silent cloud, touch me
So i sing a song of love, julia
Hum hum hum hum...calls me
So i sing a song of love for julia, julia, julia
song performed by by Beatles

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bring Me a Poem, Sing Me a Song
Sing me a song, read me a poem
Bring a poem, sing me a song
Sing me a "Je t'aime"
And don't stop reading the long
And beautiful poem that I composed for you
Oh! The moon is bright and the sky is blue
Keep on reading, keep on singing
Bring me the flowers of summer and spring
Keep on singing, keep on reading.
Canta me una bella canción.
Teach me a wonderful lesson.
Love is in the air, the poets are happy,
And the women at the beach are really pretty.
Bring me a poem, sing me a song;
This time, you cannot go wrong.
Sing me a song; read me a long poem,
So I can enjoy this fantastic season,
For the right and appropriate reason,
Because you just told me "Que tu m'aimes,
That you love me, Que tu me amas".
Tell me more; read me more, at last!
Sing me more, bring me more flowers,
More poems, more songs and more jitters.
poem by Hebert Logerie

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Omens
A single sheaf of large shrivelled
Teak leaf glided uncannily to the
Ground with a tap and continued its
Forlorn dance across the road below
A lone street lamp - right in front
Of me as I was cycling by troubled
By an upcoming undertaking.
The dropping Of a leaf as if portending some untoward
Happening coming my way, telling me
Not to go foward with what I had decided;
Nature's way of telling me to be careful,
That dangers lurked ahead; analoguous
To Caesar's wife's disturbing dreams
Of his coronation murder. I continued
The journey back home and was again
Greeted by a large black cat dashing
Across just as I was making my way to the porch.
I shivered, feeling lost for a second,
Sighed, laughed and went straight into
House with a lighter chest.
INSPIRED BY
Amidst the Flowers a Jug of Wine
------------
Amidst the flowers a jug of wine,
I pour alone lacking companionship.
So raising the cup I invite the Moon,
Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us.
Because the Moon does not know how to drink,
My shadow merely follows the movement of my body.
The moon has brought the shadow to keep me company a while,
The practice of mirth should keep pace with spring.
I start a song and the moon begins to reel,
I rise and dance and the shadow moves grotesquely.
While I'm still conscious let's rejoice with one another,
After I'm drunk let each one go his way.
Let us bind ourselves for ever for passionless journeyings.
Let us swear to meet again far in the Milky Way.
Li Po
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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And I Under The Moon
The jug and I under the moon
and my lips around the neck of the bottle of wine,
by the moon light is it full of the flowers dew,
I pour the scarcity of each dropp and it's association
against the bamboo and I watch to need the heron it's
crest off i see it go by as a dragons shadow independently.
Moving off, 'Therefore before the lifting of the glass,
I invite you because of our friendship,
revalations are made as to my shadow which then makes up
the moon myself and it's our three.
Is it not known my shadow follows each movement of my body
swaying as the leaves from which the rice it makes is simply.
Moon of moon shining down between shows us company
and my shadow because I am by you for wine maintained,
as to the spring flowing forth nothing is forever
and would be assisted wise are you adjusted too practice
each our lips the neck of the bottle of wine our pleasure.
As for me and as for you the moon I who am I have begun
babmboo in sleep before I go, the stand gently rising,
you dance and the shadow it moves strangely
and with you including swan song.
I' Between; Still you be looking up at the dark sky
moon smiling down and of which you are consciously, moving.
Afterwards, and you rejoice mutually; exclusively then thus do I
and Each one tried where it was, we laid down our heads
friend of moon, knew us drunk to go off searching for the shadow of your friend. Passion is less this night when travelling.
Under the moon and friends are friends, permits that fact, we are.
l.p.
poem by Is It Poetry

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Gifts of Spring
Spring Seems to come over night,
Bringing beauty with all its might.
The sun shines down all around.
It makes spring colors come to life.
Without the sun...spring would be no fun.
You can hear the tulips humming in your ear,
As they kick their growing into second gear.
You can feel the water drizzling down from the deep blue sky,
As you watch the robins fly oh so high.
Fireflies buzz on by,
As they light up the midnight sky
The wind fills the air with murmurs,
That sound like little drummers.
All of these together mean spring
'Spring...spring, ' they all sing.
And when the spread the news,
There will be the most amazing views.
And then the flowers begin to wilt.
The start to turn, twist, and tilt.
Sadly, spring comes to an end,
But don't worry...summer is just around the bend.
poem by Candace Johnson

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Wine, Women, and Song
As I walk through the stifling heat,
with no shoes upon my feet
I search for wine, women, and song
as I tread hopefully along.
Sweat is pouring and my face is sore
I don’t know if I can take much more.
Where is the wine, women, and song
something’s missing, something’s wrong?
It’s so oppressively hot around here
surely by now I should be getting near.
I can sense the wine, women, and song
I do hope it won’t be long.
I’ve caught a whiff of Chanel perfume,
a sure sign that I’ll be arriving soon.
But where’s the wine, women, and song
that I’ve been searching for so long?
For days I’ve followed the confusing smell
and its made me realise that I’m in hell.
Sadly there is no wine, women, and song,
and this road I walk is eternally long.
poem by Orlando Belo

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Sing Me A Song
Sing me a song,
A song you and I know,
A song that will put me to sleep,
This song that I always listen to makes me cry,
Missing you with every inch on my heart,
Knowing that you will not return,
Sing me a song,
A song that will help me forget about you,
A song that will heal my heart,
A song of forgiveness,
Just sing a song,
A song that can not be forgotten,
A song so memorable,
Only a memory,
Sing me song,
A song that we will love,
A song we can not live with out,
Just sing me a song,
A song that only you and I know.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau

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Sing a song
Baby! My Baby
Sing with me a song
At the sound of your voice
To mutual words of our choice
I will like a shot rejoice
Baby! My Baby
Sing with me a song
Together we can compose
With a lyrical structure
Watch our song transpose
We can sing a song of hope
Beyound any scope
You can change the tempo
I can go fast or you can go slow
We can sing a song of determination
Inspired by collective imagination
Baby, I am not here to compete
Or this song itself will not complete
Let’s put behind unwanted sorrows
Sing our hearts out until tomorrow
We can sing a song of harmonious hearts
Which no one should set apart!
We can sing of passion and romance
Release our tensions with a dance
Baby! Sing with me a song
I can feel it right inside my skin
For the words are rooted deep within
Lingering for your vocal touch
Yearning for your words so much
We can sing a song of faith
And how it is worth the wait
Together we can consume in delight
In the darkness or in the light
All that is wrong or right
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi

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