A Song of Joy
From the top of the mountains
We breathed the pure air
Enjoying the stunning, awe-inspiring views,
That stretched around there.
Coming down to the green valley
We got involved in the breeze around,
And walked by the little brook
Singing together melodious sounds.
The sweet scent of flowers and bushes
Accompanied us all the way long
Allowing for a quiet reflection,
In stillness and love,
Away from the throng.
(May 2010)
poem by Maria C. Costa
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Sestina: Here in Katmandu
We have climbed the mountain.
There's nothing more to do.
It is terrible to come down
To the valley
Where, amidst many flowers,
One thinks of snow,
As formerly, amidst snow,
Climbing the mountain,
One thought of flowers,
Tremulous, ruddy with dew,
In the valley.
One caught their scent coming down.
It is difficult to adjust, once down,
To the absense of snow.
Clear days, from the valley,
One looks up at the mountain.
What else is there to do?
Prayer wheels, flowers!
Let the flowers
Fade, the prayer wheels run down.
What have they to do
With us who have stood atop the snow
Atop the mountain,
Flags seen from the valley?
It might be possible to live in the valley,
To bury oneself among flowers,
If one could forget the mountain,
How, never once looking down,
Stiff, blinded with snow,
One knew what to do.
Meanwhile it is not easy here in Katmandu,
Especially when to the valley
That wind which means snow
Elsewhere, but here means flowers,
Comes down,
As soon it must, from the mountain.
poem by Donald Justice
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Kiss You Again
Laughing, singing, dancing, enjoying life,
thanks for being so sweet and kind and
brilliant and shiny and inspiring, you are
a bright light unto me, thanks for contri-
buting to my passionate delight with life
Thanks for eternal moments of infinite
love, moments I relive in my life every
time I dance in the sun and sing with
the wind, pure light without spectral
lines, you became a godly being
In the prism of my mind, a pure golden
light of divine inspiration – come, let
me kiss you again…
poem by Louise Tredoux
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Sweeter Than Wine
The Almond flowers,
With buds and blossoms from my lover;
How sweet is the entrance of your tent?
Braided chains of pure gold,
The apple of your sweetest love;
With pure incense of sweet spices.
On one branch,
On one's love,
With buds and blossoms from her taste;
An Olive Oil from her light to share with you like,
That of her skills and abilities.
Your sweet love crowns the night,
In the midst of her mountains with love;
This is my deisre towards her.
Her love is sweeter than wine,
See how her breasts feed among the Lilies;
Of the Almond flowers,
Refresh me with your sweet apples my love;
You are so beautiful among women my love,
Your sweet aroma of the Almond flowers fills my soul.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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At Dawn
Early in the morning;
Before the Sun had come;
A cool breeze was blowing;
I walked up and down.
Neighbours were still sleeping;
The weather was so cold;
All was very quiet;
Except the chirp of Birds!
It had been much raining;
All through the previous night;
Coffee having taken,
I pranced like a kite.
‘Twas a Sunday morning!
And all would get up late;
Just the noise of motors,
Was in the far-off roads.
The Air was quite freshn’ing,
I breathed and breathed and breathed;
I saw a group of black clouds;
In the Sky inter-weaved.
The plants seemed so smiling;
Their leaves were green and fresh;
The ground was wet, sodden;
And showed some sprouts afresh.
Plantain-trees looked stately;
Their green leaves so well-spread;
I saw green leaf-cutters!
On Moringa-tree leaves.
I had a good night’s sleep;
The family left for hol’s;
I listened to the noise,
Of insects ‘neath the leaves.
Two trees had delivered,
A bunch of bananas each!
One was so much sagging;
The trunk would break, it seemed!
The Sky now brightened up;
The Sun still nowhere seen;
As if someone would come,
The garden next look’d clean.
I stretch’d my limbs few times,
Aiming to breathe better;
I had a bout of cough,
By now, ’twas almost Dawn!
Soon the Air got filled up,
With noise of various Birds;
They flew in joy, singing;
Another Dawn was born!
poem by John Celes
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Painted Landscape
An intense mist
Covered the background.
Animals and children
Hardly were found...
Trees and bushes dressed the park
Alongside yellow tulips,
Harebells, cinquefoils,
Enjoying the singing skylark.
(March 2010)
poem by Maria C. Costa
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Wednesday Morning Silence
At eleven O’clock in the morning,
I sit experiencing the stillness
of a Wednesday morning silence coming down.
It seems much earlier,
though the day is half done
after a fun filled Tuesday
that lasted long into the night.
I sit experiencing the stillness
and wondering in the silence
after the rain had come down.
The absent drip of raindrops
sounds like time ticking away
in the Wednesday morning silence coming down.
Sitting on my friends deck
as a cooling breeze rustles the leaves
in the silence of the morning
as I wait for everyone to wake
in a Wednesday Morning silence coming down
while I am on holiday.
poem by David Harris
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From The Spanish Of Villegas
'Tis sweet, in the green Spring,
To gaze upon the wakening fields around;
Birds in the thicket sing,
Winds whisper, waters prattle from the ground;
A thousand odours rise,
Breathed up from blossoms of a thousand dyes.
Shadowy, and close, and cool,
The pine and poplar keep their quiet nook;
For ever fresh and full,
Shines, at their feet, the thirst-inviting brook;
And the soft herbage seems
Spread for a place of banquets and of dreams.
Thou, who alone art fair,
And whom alone I love, art far away.
Unless thy smile be there,
It makes me sad to see the earth so gay;
I care not if the train
Of leaves, and flowers, and zephyrs go again.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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The Beauty of Spring
The Beauty of Spring
I am looking out of a glass window.
I see a group of cherry blossom trees in the distance.
Nearby, there is a quaint little house.
This magnificence takes my breathe away.
The Beauty of Spring.
Daffodils are blooming.
Butterflies are fluttering through the air.
Robins are singing there beautiful song.
The world is coming back to life after a long winter.
The Beauty of Spring.
A gentle breeze skims across my face.
I inhale the sweet scent of flowers.
I see a world of gorgeous and vivid colors.
I absolutely love spring.
The Beauty of Spring.
I am Taking in The Beauty of Spring
poem by Bleeding Heart
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The Valley Of Anchor
To uncover her nakedness like a sweet lover on the bed of roses,
But to come up out of her grave like bat out of hell!
I am in the valley of anchor to share my views with you.
I have tiome to uncover her nakedness,
I have the joy to share her love;
But the muse that muses is all that i share with you as well.
To come up out of her grave like a bat out of hell,
With te valley of anchor to share my mind with you;
But from the days of her youth,
She was all that it takes.
Wrapped in the wings of love is her identity and,
I am in the valley of anchor to make love with her;
But from between her breasts are the true love of her muse.
Her lewdness to all is in the valley of anchor,
And her nakedness to all is seen around her youthful breasts;
But the door of her hope is what she has for you,
Like me being with her all day long.
Take a stick and write upon it,
For i desire mercy on this love than hate;
Like the great River Hiddekel.
She has set water for me to drink on this love,
Like a freewill offering of her love in the valley of anchor;
But be very careful to swim deeply into her love.
Like the King's food and the Queen's water,
Im am in a night vision of love to share my views;
And from between her breasts are the sweet things of love.
The deep and the secrets of her love,
Like the great River Hiddekel pouring down on her nakedness;
Come and explore this valley of her anchor.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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O! The Sacred Land
O! The Sacred Land,
May ever fall, flow melodious cascades,
Flourish your deep valleys, green glades,
And may time erase the streak of divisions,
Of caste, of creed, of sects and grades.
O! The Sacred Land,
May upon your face flowers ever bloom,
Till the world goes on, till the day of doom,
And may He secure, protect your treasures,
Cast away winds of pain, clouds of gloom.
O! The Sacred Land,
May sweet sun ever shine upon your land,
The rains ever pour upon your thirsty sand,
May your children live the life full of bliss,
While going ahead supporting hand in hand.
O! The Sacred Land,
May you ever progress by leaps and bounds,
And ever vibrate with the melodious sounds,
Your valleys, your plains and forests green,
Your lofty mountains, your hills and mounds.
O! The Sacred Land,
May God thrive your village, city and town,
And He wrap them all with heavenly gown,
Of love and faith, of peace and patience,
And rule the world wearing the golden crown.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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On Hearing
O stay, harmonious and sweet sounds, that die
In the long vaultings of this ancient fane!
Stay, for I may not hear on earth again
Those pious airs--that glorious harmony;
Lifting the soul to brighter orbs on high,
Worlds without sin or sorrow! Ah, the strain
Has died--even the last sounds that lingeringly
Hung on the roof ere they expired!
And I
Stand in the world of strife, amidst a throng,
A throng that reckons not of death or sin!
Oh, jarring scenes! to cease, indeed, ere long;
The worm hears not the discord and the din;
But he whose heart thrills to this angel song
Feels the pure joy of heaven on earth begin!
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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The Echoing Sounds Of The Ocean Waves
I LISTEN TO THE ECHOING SOUNDS
OF THE OCEAN WAVES HITTING THE SHORE
AND THE SEAGULS FLYING DOWN
TRYING TO CATCH MORE
WHILE MOUNTAINS SEEM SO FAR
AND THE PEOPLE ON THERE SAIL BOATS WAVING
NOT KNOWING WHO YOU ARE
AND TIME DON'T MOVE THE HOURS STAND STILL
WHEN YOUR OUT IN THE OCEAN ENJOYING THE AIR
NOW THE SWEET BREEZE RUFFLES YOUR HAIR
BUT YOU DON'T CARE
YOUR JUST LETTING YOUR SELF BE FREE
JUST LISTENING TO ECHOING SOUNDS
OF THE OCEAN WAVES HITTING THE SHORE
poem by Bruce Martone
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Calm On The Water
In a dream I was walkin in a beautiful field
I was gathering flowers at the foot of a hill
When a bright light descended and it spread oer the land
Jesus stood on the mountain and he held out his hand
Then he came down from the mountain, headed down to the sea
And the children strowed flowers in the path at his feet
And he was filled with compassion and the beasts from the wild
Came as gentle as lambs and they all walked at his side
Theres a calm on the water, a hush in the crowd
Theres peace in the valley, theres a stillness about
Theres a light in the darkness, theres joy in his love
Aint that a wonderful feelin, let us lift him up
Then he suddenly vanished from the crowd down below
Reappeared on the mountain in a radiant glow
He said your questions are many but the answer is love
Ill draw all men unto me if I be lifted up
Theres a calm on the water, a hush in the crowd
Theres peace in the valley, theres a stillness about
Theres a light in the darkness, theres joy in his love
There is life everlasting, let us lift him up
He said if i
Be lifted up
He said if I be lifted up, what did he say
He said if i
Be lifted up
He said if I be lifetd up
Lets lift him higher and higher
And higher and higher each day
Lets lift him up
He said if i
Be lifted up
Oh if I be lifted up
Theres a calm on the water, a hush in the crowd
Theres peace in the valley, theres a stillness about
Theres a light in the darkness, and joy in his love
Its a wonderful feelin, lift him up
He said if i
Be lifted up
He said if I be lifted up, thats what he said
He said if i
Be lifted up
If I be lifted up
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There’s a new breeze coming
There is a new breeze coming
It is whispering to my ear
There is a new morning coming
There is a new sun
There is a new breeze coming
It is so so refreshing
Making all my burdens lighter
My heart is not heavy
My thoughts are happier
That this new breeze
Everything has become light
Like the weigthlessness of a butterfly
Fluttering to the melody of
This new soft breeze
There is a new promise
There’s a new breeze coming
There is a new morning
There is a new breeze coming
From my home, sweet home.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Entangled
I STOOD as one enchanted,
All in the forest deep:
As one that wond'ring wanders,
Dream-bound within his sleep.
A thousand rustling footsteps
Pattered upon the ground;
A thousand whisp'ring voices
Made the wide silence, sound.
Some murmured deep and deeper,
Like waves in solemn seas;
Some breathèd sweet and sweeter,
Like elves on moon-lit leas.
Tall ferns, washed down in sunlight,
Beckoned with fingers green;
Tall flowers nodded strangely,
With white and glimm'ring sheen;
They sighed, they sang so softly,
They stretched their arms to me;
My heart, it throbbed so wildly,
In weird tumultuous glee.
I staggered in the mosses,
It seemed to drag me down
Into the gleaming bushes;
To fall, to sink, to drown.
When lo! thro' scared foliage,
A lovely bird did fly;
And looked at me so knowing,
With bright and curious eye;
It broke out into warbles,
And singing sped away;
But I, like one awakened,
Fled down the mossy way.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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The Smell Of A Woman
The smell of a woman,
When I am down there.
There's nothing on earth,
That quite can compare.
Earthy, moist, steamy, and rare,
Like tropical flowers perfuming the air.
The smell you find, at a womans core,
will make you want her, more, and more.
I can smell a woman across the street,
Way before our eyes will meet.
That delicate scent carried on the breeze,
Coming from a woman, seeking release.
The scent of a woman, when she is in heat,
You'll find yourself commonly looking for it.
And when I find it, it's a matter of time,
Till close up I smell that scent so sublime.
The smell of a woman all over my face,
The sweet scent of a woman, will have me crazed.
Don Juan Tenorio
poem by Don Juan Tenorio
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I have some green grapes at their best
I have some green grapes at their best
And I am waiting for you to pass by
For these grapes are of such great taste
It is the truth so I swear and so I sigh
They were raised upon mountains high
where the wind softly blow
and a herd of wild horses feeds nigh
on tall grass blades rooted grow
So this is why my grapes are so sweet
The mountain spring by them lead
Tall reeds guard the gates
To keep out the ugly crow’s gait
Quietly my green grapes wait
For the clock sounds the hour late
What makes you hesitate?
What makes you not keep your date?
Therefore my grapes are so sad
And I am waiting not have gone yet to bed
But here I hear approaching steps from the south
My green grapes are full of hopes for your mouth
But still I am so lonely and sad
Since to bring flowers you forbade
May be next year you change your mind
And to my request you be more kind
And I will bring you flowers from the bowers
Wet with rain of rainbow showers
copy rights 2010
Vernal Breeze
VERNAL BREEZE
The Vernal Breeze blows from the south with the fragrance of marigold,
Jasmine, champak, rose and other blossoms beauteous to behold.
Black crows, in the dusk, with merriment, joy and glee,
Freely fly among the boughs of ‘Gulmohar’ trees
Attracting the attention of passersby –poets and writers like me.
Cuckoos’ melody from the mango group vibrate the air, serene and pure
And melodious Muse reverberates in the tranquil, sanctified atmosphere.
Sparrows chirp on the boughs of many a tree,
Play amidst green foliage and flowers pretty
And magnetize the eyes of little boys and girls fully.
Our minds become pregnant with perfect peace and pleasure,
We drink the nectar of untold beauty and gather the treasure
Of love and affection from the brook of profound feelings in good measure.
Beauty of the eve, in the human mind brings emotion;
Lovely, glamorous and mysterious looks the creation;
Poets try valiantly to present, with musical words, its depiction.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Shimmering Water
On the banks of River Rhine
Under the morning sun
And the blue sky shining
The gentle breeze rustled
Along the silvery water
Wooden boats sailed slowly
Accompanied by choir of bee
Which sounds melodious and sweet
The beautiful little flowers grow
Whiter than fur than snow
Full of smiles, looking at
Gold fishes that are playing
The wonderful rotating cloud
Which is the natural grace
Singing love songs in Spring
To the leaves are greenish
The yellow and red butterflies
Sigh shook majestically
Viewing wonders at
Water flowing
Under the shade of vine trees
Who is always shining joy
Always have cheerful dance with
The rhythm of the river water
Under the golden stone fountain
That herrings are gliding soaring
Engrossed race with the water flow
Kept mumbling and longed for freedom
Bouquet of lilies sways
Floating to the west bank
The shining frescoes never left
The goose that swims around
The cherry blossom
Filling the day with peace
Entertaining lonely grasshopper
With love poems of water
Petals of the dandelion bud sigh
As mysterious as the May rainbow
Reaching the vortex of flowing wave
Shimmering Water that never go again
(dedicated to a great pianist, Kotaro Fukuma)
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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I Do Not Fear To Own Me Kin
I DO not fear to own me kin
To the glad clods in which spring flowers begin;
Or to my brothers, the great trees,
That speak with pleasant voices in the breeze,
Loud talkers with the winds that pass;
Or to my sister, the deep grass.
Of such I am, of such my body is,
That thrills to reach its lips to kiss.
That gives and takes with wind and sun and rain
And feels keen pleasure to the point of pain.
Of such are these,
The brotherhood of stalwart trees,
The humble family of flowers,
That make a light of shadowy bowers
Or star the edges of the bent:
They give and take sweet colour and sweet scent;
They joy to shed themselves abroad;
And tree and flower and grass and sod
Thrill and leap and live and sing
With silent voices in the Spring.
Hence I not fear to yield my breath,
Since all is still unchanged by death;
Since in some pleasant valley I may be,
Clod beside clod, or tree by tree,
Long ages hence, with her I love this hour;
And feel a lively joy to share
With her the sun and rain and air,
To taste her quiet neighbourhood
As the dumb things of field and wood,
The clod, the tree, and starry flower,
Alone of all things have the power.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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