Never Die
Hands on a window pane
Watching some children laugh and play
They're running in circles
With candy canes and French braids
Inspired to question
What makes us grown-ups anyway?
Let's search for the moment
When youth betrayed itself to age
So let the children play
Inside your heart always
And death you will defy
'Cause your youth will never die
Never Die
In searching for substance
We're clouded by struggle's haze
Remember the meaning
Of playing out in the rain
We swim in the fountain
Of youth's timeless maze
If you drink the water
Your youth will never fade
So let the children play
Inside your heart always
And death you will defy
'Cause your youth will never die
Never Die
Never Die
Never Die
I won't let go of that youthful soul
Despite body and mind my youth will never die
I won't let go of that youthful soul
Despite body and mind my youth will never die
[Guitar Break]
So let the children play
Inside your heart always
And death you will defy
'Cause your youth will never die
So let the children play
Inside your heart always
And death you will defy
'Cause your youth will never die
Never Die
song performed by by Creed from Human Clay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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In a Herber Green Asleep Whereas I Lay
In a herber green asleep whereas I lay,
The birds sang sweet in the middle of the day;
I dreamed fast of mirth and play:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Methought I walked still to and fro,
And from her company I could not go;
But when I wak'd it was not so:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Therefore my heart is surely pight
Of her alone to have a sight,
Which is my joy and heart's delight:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
poem by Robert Wever
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Youth is blind
Youth is power; youth is vigour;
Youth is initiative; youth is revolutionary;
Youth is dedication; youth is freedom;
Youth is love; youth is passion.
Yes, because youth is blind
Out of them elders make winds
01.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Youth Youth Youth
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Don't wanna spend my life saving up for things
Don't wanna have what a steady job brings
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Don't wanna stay at home not making any noise
I've always got to be out
I've always got to have a choice
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem to Honor St. Valentine
If youth could age's wisdom ken,
& age could know youth's fire again
or age could Old Time's hands turn back
T'would then be youth with time to spend
& wisdom's strengths on which to depend.
This said, t'is never just white or black
For youth doth all discretion lack
& age tho' willing & desirous to play
To youth's vitality must passion give way
& such a conflict therein lies
for age is by youth most oft despised
& youth by age oft seen to whine,
“please, won't you be my valentine?”
poem by Hugh Cobb (12 February 2006)
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A Madrigal
Crabbed Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare:
Youth is full of sports,
Age's breath is short,
Youth is nimble, Age is lame:
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold,
Youth is wild, and Age is tame:-
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee;
O! my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee-
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Youth Of 1,000 Summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul. in my soul, in my soul
In my soul. in my soul. in my soul
And he looks so radiant
And he shines like the sun
And he looks so radiant
And he lights up the world
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Yeah, love it, yeah, love it
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
He's the king of the mountain
And the clear crystal fountain
He's the saint of the river
He's the ancient of days
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And he makes you go skipping
And he makes you go dancing
And he gets you in rhythm
And he moves you in song
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Oh, in my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And a sweet bird of youth
In my soul (repeat)
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth
Mood of youth,
Mood of youth,
Eagle-like must seek the blue,
Dauntlessly its course pursue,
All the mountain-heights must view.
Blood of youth,
Blood of youth,
Steam-like puts full-speed to sea,
E'en though storm and ice there be,
Makes its way and romps in glee.
Dream of youth,
Dream of youth,
Rogue-like stealing sets its snare
In the maiden's morning-prayer;
All the springtime, fragrant, glowing,
In its airy waves is flowing.
Joy of youth,
Joy of youth,
Waterfall-like foams in truth,
Laughing, rainbow-gifts forth flashing,
Even while to death 't is dashing.
Joy of youth,
Dream of youth,
Blood of youth,
Mood of youth,
Clothe the world with colors golden,
Singing songs that never olden.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Birth And Death.
I who have known thee, Birth, must know Death too:
As old, old men their children's children fold
In their gaunt arms, and though their blood be cold
Feel their own youth burn in them as they view
The features that were theirs — each sign so true
To their own breath and blood, 'tis as retold
Their very youth was, when they are so old,
By those who nothing of their childhood knew.
So even Death but a new birth may be,
And in some other star beyond to-day,
When we have put the use of Earth away,
E'en like those old men's children's children we
May see ourselves rise from our own decay,
The very offspring of our verity.
poem by Robert Crawford
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A Gaze Upon Myself
the possibilities of a body
are all here: luscious lips, contours
of my arms
the promises of my butt
and the courage of
my chest,
so much is here
all these resources
laying bare wanting to be used
even abused
come... let us meet secretly
the wonders of our youth
tonight
when i am alone again
inside my room, when the hotels
are closed,
when the cafes are cruel,
when the roads are emptied
of children
when the skies have no stars
come to me then, youth to my youth
inside my room
where my heart is numb
when the only possibility is the pleasure
that our bodies can offer
when intimacy is not the question anymore
when commitment is out of the issue
we are here
at this point we shall only discuss
how our skins
can accommodate all the pleasures
therein.
come to me when i am alone again
let us make pleasures
under the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Song Of Youth
Sing, youth, the loveliest song you know!
Sing the song that seethes within your breast,
Let your joy burst forth in passion...
Don't hold back your song! Let it soar.
Sing your song, youth. I beg you sing...
Let it seize you, kiss you, inspire you to love
With youthful ardour... Let the foaming wave of feelings
Which your song arouses surge over us.
Sing your song, youth, and laugh like children!
Let the sound of your voice rise to the heavens
And echo back to us again, from the envious stars.
For we adore you, as we adore the sun.
Sing, youth! Sing your joyful song!
Laugh, youth, laugh! The world is yours.
Song of Youth
Sing, youth, the loveliest song you know!
Sing the song that seethes within your breast,
Let your joy burst forth in passion...
Don't hold back your song! Let it soar.
Sing your song, youth. I beg you sing...
Let it seize you, kiss you, inspire you to love
With youthful ardour... Let the foaming wave of feelings
Which your song arouses surge over us.
Sing your song, youth, and laugh like children!
Let the sound of your voice rise to the heavens
And echo back to us again, from the envious stars.
For we adore you, as we adore the sun.
Sing, youth! Sing your joyful song!
Laugh, youth, laugh! The world is yours.
poem by Millosh Gjergj Nikolla
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The Faithless Shepherdess
WHILE that the sun with his beams hot
Scorched the fruits in vale and mountain,
Philon the shepherd, late forgot,
Sitting beside a crystal fountain
In shadow of a green oak tree,
Upon his pipe this song play'd he:
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.
So long as I was in your sight
I was your heart, your soul, your treasure;
And evermore you sobb'd and sigh'd
Burning in flames beyond all measure:
--Three days endured your love to me,
And it was lost in other three!
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.
Another shepherd you did see,
To whom your heart was soon enchained;
Full soon your love was leapt from me,
Full soon my place he had obtained.
Soon came a third your love to win,
And we were out and he was in.
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.
Sure you have made me passing glad
That you your mind so soon removed,
Before that I the leisure had
To choose you for my best beloved:
For all my love was pass'd and done
Two days before it was begun.
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.
CRABB'D Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport,
Age's breath is short;
Youth is nimble, Age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, and Age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee;
O, my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee:
O, sweet shepherd, hie thee!
For methinks thou stay'st too long.
poem by William Byrd
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In Youth is Pleasure
IN a harbour grene aslepe whereas I lay,
The byrdes sang swete in the middes of the day,
I dreamed fast of mirth and play:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Methought I walked still to and fro,
And from her company I could not go--
But when I waked it was not so:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Therefore my hart is surely pyght
Of her alone to have a sight
Which is my joy and hartes delight:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
poem by Robert Wever
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The Youth And The Old
the youth and the old-
o what a contrast in between!
the youth is unapologetically mindful
of every millimeter of its dress
for its match, crease, fitness, and what not,
craning and twisting its neck in front of the mirror
and straining every nerve to put up a decent show
everytime it steps out of the house!
the old cares the least for anything
and moves out shabbily unmindful of stature -
while the youth cares all for looks and joy
the old pines for the health of its soul
visiting whatever that is holy
and dwelling wherever it could smell peace!
while the temples are for the pleasures of youth
they are the holy rivers to cleanse the souls of the old.
the youth sprays the worthless ever with matching hearts
the old broods within itself submerging in the sparks of the past!
the youth, does it care for the future?
the old tunes its ears to the knocks of death.
the youth dares death at its cave
but the old, though wishes death,
is terribly afraid of even to listen its distant footfalls!
-s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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The summer day
On the deck I stand on fine summer day
A drink in my hand, a time to reflect
And sound of children at play upon the wind
The soft and gentle buzzing of a lawn mower,
the smell of fresh cut grass assail my senses.
The beauty of the day breaks down my defenses
And the laughter of children at play
The hot sun upon my shoulder, the water
dripping of my cold drink.
Take me back to my youth back in time I think
And joy of children at play
Sweetest Days Ever Known
Sitting in McDonald's
Watching my youngest / last
Frolic in the 'playland'.
I consume coffee, she drinks in simple joy.
Knowing full well
How so soon and suddenly
These days will sadly be all through;
I've seen the days
Quickly come and go,
I see adulthood, like a lion, charging us...
A repeat of when my first / oldest
Stopped playing in those children's
Care-free days and ways.
- Though I must confess
Whenever she still calls me 'daddy'
My heart says a thank you to God.
(Perhaps now, in some sense,
I begin to see, to understand
How He feels toward us.)
I watch her play,
Laugh and dance;
I love her sweetness,
Innocence and unconditional spirit...
With praise I give God thanks for them both.
And for the wonderful times we've had,
The times of youth, and the times beyond,
The past, present, and future.
Still, I cannot help but wish
These sweet, wonder-filled, loving days
Of beautiful youth would linger on,
And last a while longer,
Than they have.
I am so grateful for what has been,
And what yet shall be;
Lord, be with my children,
Your children, eternally. Amen.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Blame It On My Youth
If I expected love when first we kissed
Blame it on my youth
If only just for you I did exist
Blame it on my youth
I believed in everything
Like a child at three
You meant more than everything
All the world to me
If you were on my mind all night and day
Blame it on my youth
If I forgot to eat and sleep and pray
Blame it on my youth
If I cried a little bit
When first I learned the truth
Don't blame it on my heart
Blame it on my-y youth
If you were on my mind all night and day-ay
Blame it on my youth
If I forgot to eat and sleep and pray
Blame it on my youth
If I cried a little bit
When first I learned the truth
Don't blame it on my heart
Blame it on my youth
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 06 On Weakness And Old Age Story 05
The active, graceful, smiling, sweet-tongued youth happened once to be in the circle of our assembly. His heart had been entered by no kind of grief and his lips were scarcely ever closed from laughter. After some time had elapsed, I accidentally met him again and I learned that he had married a wife and begotten children but I saw that the root of merriment had been cut and the roses of his countenance were withered. I asked him how he felt and what his circumstances were. He replied: ‘When I had obtained children I left off childishness.’
Where is youth when age has changed my ringlets?
And the change of time is a sufficient monitor.
When thou art old abstain from puerility.
Leave play and jokes to youths.
Seek not a youth’s hilarity in an old man
For the water gone from the brook returns no more.
When the harvest-time of a field arrives
It will no longer wave in the breeze like a young crop.
The period of youth has departed.
Alas, for those heart-enchanting times.
The force of the lion’s claws is gone.
Now we are satisfied with cheese Eke a leopard.
An old hag had dyed her hair black.
I said to her: ‘O little mother of ancient days,
Thou hast cunningly dyed thy hair but consider
That thy bent back will never be straight.’
O Children!
O Children why do you make mockery of the old?
What gives you that audaciousness to be bold?
Hasn’t anyone spoken, have you not been told?
Your time for maturing, you cannot put on hold
Silent children, speak quietly
Silent children, speak gently
Address me not rudely
I speak to you all fondly
I see you all; I have been there before
Like a thief I want to creep
Back on the other side of age’s door
Today I weep, I weep and I weep
O Eternal youth thou cannot keep!
O Children, Children, Why the innocence?
With a deceptive facial display that is intense
I see through you all, I see the entire pretence
You say you are sorry, it’s a lie, I can sense
O Children why do you seek to grow so fast?
Your flowering youth is not meant to last
Before long it will wrinkle away into the past
Soon you shall become a mere outcast
In the land of youth and that is the truth
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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