En.Citatepedia^®.ro

In the Spirit of Rumi 32-The Garden

O pilgrim on the path of life,
you have travelled far;
now you have come to rest
and make yourself a home;
and plant a garden there.

You measured out the plot of land,
designed it with your love,
laid precious stones along its paths,
planted trees for shade,
beneath them, marbled seats; and
roses red as heart’s red blood, or
white as purity; scented as all beauty veiled;
among the roses, jasmine, iris, lily, honeysuckle;
and in the evening, night’s pale flowers that yield
all the scented charms of cooling dusk;
and in the centre, a fountain plashing,
ever different, ever the same,
to be the token of your resting soul..

now you build a wall around it,
stone by stone. Two things
I ask of you, O faithful one:

make an arched gate within the wall
that you may not make your neighbour envious;
where you may invite him to join you,
that neighbour who is yourself disguised..

and as you lay each stone
to guard your peace from fox and wolf,
remember - that a paradise with walls
is but a parable, a paradigm,
for that true paradise which knows no walls;
rest there, traveller.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Roses crimson, roses white

`Roses crimson, roses white,
Deadly pale or lovely blushing,
Both in love with May at sight,
And their maiden blood is rushing
To and fro in hope to hide
Tumult it but thus discloses.
Bring the Bridegroom to the Bride!
Everywhere are roses, roses.'

`Every wall is white with roses
`Every wall is white with roses,
Linnets pair in every tree;
Brim your beakers, twine your posies,
Kiss and quaff ere Springtime closes;
Bloom and beauty quickly flee.'

`Nay, let me sleep, or, best, be stone or steel
`Nay, let me sleep, or, best, be stone or steel,
While still endures this infamy of woe.
My one sole bliss is nor to see nor feel:
So, wake me not; and, lest you should, speak low.'

poem by Alfred Austin
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Appreciate Stone Wall Memories

it is true the stone wall loss
of our ever beloved ones,
is a barrier too hard to pass
cross for bitter mournful seasons,

stones are hard cold wet
with our 'ice crystallized cold tears',
unyielding in left loneliness
of broken spaces in our souls;

mourning rich beauty
in passing noble lives,
retreating into private
depths of passion grief,

into the torn raw hurt
of missing our beloved,
the wind knife ice blows
savage cold in this winter season;

trees refuse to leaf,
streams creeks rivers
ice frozen may not run;
but spring thaw cycles life

next seasons beauty
must rebirth come,
as new season life
blesses our families

with babies
growing
into bubbling
laughter,

miracle first steps
stumbling toddler runs,
life growth must
delight renew regenerate

into beauty
of multiple new memories;
Stone Walls
on a breezy sunny day

are warmed by the sun,
stone walls will give out
the warmth of sunlight
they receive, warm the heart

warm receptive souls
warm into the night,
stone walls are a refuge
for life that abides

within them; stone walls
hold precious memories
as numerous as the stones
within them, stone walls

landscape
through seasons
in cycles
of wonder life,

stone walls
shelter
block hail winds
in winter seasons,

we need to shelter
in glowing memories,
delight appreciate
in stone wall memories,

stone wall backbone
honouring nobility of lives
stretching back complete
through our passage lives

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Truly Great

My walls outside must have some flowers,
My walls within must have some books;
A house that's small; a garden large,
And in it leafy nooks.

A little gold that's sure each week;
That comes not from my living kind,
But from a dead man in his grave,
Who cannot change his mind.

A lovely wife, and gentle too;
Contented that no eyes but mine
Can see her many charms, nor voice
To call her beauty fine.

Where she would in that stone cage live,
A self-made prisoner, with me;
While many a wild bird sang around,
On gate, on bush, on tree.

And she sometimes to answer them,
In her far sweeter voice than all;
Till birds, that loved to look on leaves,
Will doat on a stone wall.

With this small house, this garden large,
This little gold, this lovely mate,
With health in body, peace in heart--
Show me a man more great.

poem by William Henry Davies
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Margaret

I KNOW a garden where white lilies grow,
Under the grey sweet-laden apple boughs;
It is a garden where the roses blow,
And honeysuckle covers half the house.
O happy garden, do you keep the vows
Breathed in your quiet ear beneath the rose,
Or do you tell the tale to each soft wind that blows?

Across your grassy paths she used to stray,
She moved among you like a living flower,
Her beauty drank your beauty every day,
Your beauty decked her beauty every hour.
You gave her rose and lily for a dower,
With all sweet flowers and fruits your bosom bore--
She took them all--and now she comes not any more.

O garden, if you breathe such secret things
To the south wind who loves you, tell him this:
To spread the scented softness of his wings,
And seek that other garden where she is,
And bid him bear no blossom and no kiss;
Only, dear garden, tell the wind to say
How grey the world is grown since Margaret went away!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Mending Wall

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbour know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbours."
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbours? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbours."

poem by Robert Frost
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A Home Song

I read within a poet's book
A word that starred the page:
"Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage!"

Yes, that is true; and something more
You'll find, where'er you roam,
That marble floors and gilded walls
Can never make a home.

But every house where Love abides,
And Friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home-sweet-home:
For there the heart can rest.

poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Eden

[ buck/drew/gustafson/augustyniak/merchant ]
We are the roses in the garden, beauty with thorns among our leaves.
To pick a rose you ask your hands to bleed.
What is the reason for having roses when your blood is shed carelessly?
It must be for something more than vanity.
Believe me, the truth is were not honest, not the people that we dream.
Were not as close as we could be.
Willing to grow but rains are shallow.
Barren and wind-scattered seed on stone and dry land, we will be.
Waiting for the light arisen to flood inside the prison.
And in that time kind words alone will teach us, no bitterness will reach us.
Reason will be guided another way.
All in time, but the clock is another demon that devours our time in eden, in our paradise.
Will our eyes see well beneath us, flowers all divine?
Is there still time?
If we wake and discover in life a precious love, will that waking become more heavenly?

song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stone Of Sisyphus *

Tomorrow is teasing me.
Time seems to run away from the future.
But this could be that lucky day.
A dream is make believe until
Blood, sweat, and tears turn pain to will.
It's gonna take some doing for me
To show them the way.
I'm gonna take the stone of sisyphus
I'm gonna roll it back to you.
Building a wall of stone.
Sometimes you know what's right
Sometimes wrong is better than nothing.
They cast a stone so heavy to turn.
I believe in a love so true.
I believe you get what's coming to you.
We get so tired of living a dream
For some other day.
I'm gonna take the stone of sisyphus
I'm gonna roll it back to you.
Wall of stone around the two of us.
That only angels can break through.
Looks like it's another of those long nights.
Will we always be alone?
Let's not stop before it's done.
I'm gonna take the stone of sisyphus
I'm gonna roll it back to you.
I'll take the stone of sisyphus.
Wall of stone round the two of us.
I'm gonna roll it back to you.

song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stone Of Sisyphus

Tomorrow is teasing me.
Time seems to run away from the future.
But this could be that lucky day.
A dream is make believe until
Blood, sweat, and tears turn pain to will.
Its gonna take some doing for me
To show them the way.
Im gonna take the stone of sisyphus
Im gonna roll it back to you.
Building a wall of stone.
Sometimes you know whats right
Sometimes wrong is better than nothing.
They cast a stone so heavy to turn.
I believe in a love so true.
I believe you get whats coming to you.
We get so tired of living a dream
For some other day.
Im gonna take the stone of sisyphus
Im gonna roll it back to you.
Wall of stone around the two of us.
That only angels can break through.
Looks like its another of those long nights.
Will we always be alone?
Lets not stop before its done.
Im gonna take the stone of sisyphus
Im gonna roll it back to you.
Ill take the stone of sisyphus.
Wall of stone round the two of us.
Im gonna roll it back to you.

song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Secret Paradise

I have nurtured a garden for you in my heart,
A beautiful garden, full of sweet roses…
And jasmine trees in fragrance,
Where you see green and golden birds flew freely.

Every day I visited this garden paradise,
And cherished every moments of it,
As I promise not to leave and forget,
Our secret paradise, always blooming in my heart.

poem by Desert Life
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In some fields of grass under the hills (sestina)

This afternoon the peaks throw a big shade
with the black cliffs shining up on the hills,
while we lay together in the long grass,
I look in your eyes that are amber-green
while under my head there is a small stone
and you smile at me like the prettiest lady.

I had once known another charming lady;
that part of my life is now left in shade,
bad churchmen were casting stone upon stone,
while I had to flee from them to the hills
to pastures were everything is green
to find the Lord in divine fields of grass.

Under your head there is a crown of grass
and your mother is a gracious, kind lady,
around us everything is lovely green
while we are still resting in the cool shade,
we are softly chatting about life’s hills,
about walls of very hard granite stone.

Your eyes are much brighter than emerald stone
while all of your words are softer than grass,
reaching higher and beyond all the hills,
the high mountain which is dangerous lady,
while from our pain nothing gives any shade,
nowhere is a place of rest that is green.

Your summer dress is lovely, is bright green,
suddenly all our ails have turned to stone
I follow you further; see your small shade,
I am seen as one that woos any lady,
we walk past some flowers growing in grass,
climbing up higher into the foothills.

Bright streams are splashing down some of the hills,
with water transparent, sometimes cold and green,
love and lust burns like in a youthful lady
while I at that moment feel cold as stone,
we notice a deer feeding on lone grass
while our garments lie under a tree’s shade.

Far into the hills you want love till dusk’s shade,
where you peep like some green moss from the grass,
are tossing me with a stone like no lady.

poem by Gert Strydom
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At Cashel

ABOVE me stand, worn from their ancient use,
The King's, the Bishop's, and the Warrior's house,
Quiet as folds upon a grassy knoll:
Stark-grey they stand, wall joined to ancient wall,
Chapel, and Castle, and Cathedral.

It is not they are old, but stone by stone
Into another lifetime they have grown,
The life of memories an old man has:
They dream upon what things have come to pass,
And know that stones grow friendly with the grass.

The name has crumbled CASHEL that has come
From conqueror-challenging CASTELLUM
Walls m a name! No citadel is here,
Now as a fane the empty walls uprear
Where green and greener grass spreads far and near!

poem by Padraic Colum
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It's Not By The Water Alone The Stone Get Wet

it's not by the water alone the stone get wet

many time the soil moisture rise the plant to grow,
and the dew fall in the midst forest has capture the
sun to shadow the plant maturity until the bearing
trees touch every twisting tooth to go down

roll on the water stream the fungi has distance the
cope off the fish, rushing into the turmoil of
crushing speed amongst the stone of sojourner into
the sea of no returning back, the awakening
movement of home bound recipe of life

all gets wet, nay wet moisturize all the rolling stone
towards to the sea floor of forever gray; neither the
water filled the dried color of the stone, and scented
to attract fish to return home for what is real lives
forever in the heart of the stone

let every piece of pebble gems taste a little droplets
of water as it linger on in the memory of the each
stream.....

poem by Antonio Liao
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Stone Walls

Written by - Jim Croce
It's been too many years inside this prison
Too many years just for one little fight
He got what was comin'
And I think I served enough time
I'm goin' home tonight
That stone looks mighty cold
And the guard that walks that wall
Is just waitin' to get a convict in his sights
But if I can clear the top
You can bet I'll never stop
Cause I'm goin' home tonight
Chorus:
Because stone walls do a prison
Make iron bars a cage
Any man who says they don't
Never been inside
Cause in time the bars get closer
And at night the walls grow tighter
Do you feel like there's a shackle around your mind?
Now those guards are on my tail
I can hear those sirens wail
But I know that I'll get away and that I'll be alright
Cause I'd rather live on the run
Stand free in the morning sun
Then to spend another lonely prison night
Chorus

song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walls

Walls of stone and walls of brick,
Some walls thin and some walls thick,
Walls so high and walls so low,
Walls to hide and walls to show.

Walls quite short and walls quite tall,
Some walls, last well, some walls fall,
Walls for comfort, walls of hate,
Walls for security, walls ornate.

Some as a barricade, some to support,
Walls of wood and walls of iron wrought,
Walls as a barrier, walls to enclose,
Some are to sit on, some to lean and doze.

Walls we build ourselves, these aren't good,
Walls for privacy, walls that have stood,
So many years through weather foul or fine,
Walls, that are yours, walls that are mine.

Brick by brick they are built to last,
Whether built now or in the past,
They shelter us from so many things,
And shield us from whatever this life brings.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Lulu Walls

One evening getting dark
We first met at the park
Just sitting by the fountain all alone
I lifted up my hat
And then began to chat
She said shed allow me to see her at her home
Chorus:
Such a star Ive never seen
Shes as pretty as the queen
Shes as perfect as an angel from above
If shed only be my wife
Id live happy all me life
With that aggravating beauty lulu walls.
If she were only mine
Id build a house so fine
And around it so many fences tall
It would make me jealously
To think that none but me
Could gaze upon that beauty lulu walls.
Repeat chorus:
One evening getting late
Well, I met her at the gate
I asked her if shed wed me in the fall
But she only turned away
And nothing would she say
That aggravating beauty lulu walls.
Repeat chorus:
With that aggravating beauty lulu walls.

song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn To Stone

The city streets are empty now the lights dont shine no more
And so the songs are way down low turning turning turning
A sound that flows into my mind the echoes of the daylight
Of everything that is alive in my blue world
I turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Turn to stone when you comin home, I cant go on.
The dying embers of the night a fire that slowly fades till dawn
Still glow upon the wall so bright burning burning burning
The tired streets that hide away from here to everywhere they go
Roll past my door into the day in my blue world
I turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Turn to stone when you comin home, I cant go on.
Turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Yes, Im turnin to stone cos you aint comin home.
Why you aint comin home if Im turnin to stone?
Youve been gone for so long and I cant carry on,
Yes, Im turnin, Im turnin, Im turnin to stone.
The dancing shadows on the wall the two-step in the hall
Are all I see since youve been gone turning turning turning
Through all I sit here and I wait I turn to stone I turn to stone
You will return again some day to my blue world
I turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Turn to stone when you comin home, I cant go on.
Turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
I turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.
Turn to stone when you comin home, I cant go on.
Turn to stone when you are gone, I turn to stone.

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Karma Theory Of Islam

God has written down in brief
Our endless life story
That is being played
On the seven-storied stage of sky!
.
At the same time it’s also true:
We are the architects
Of our own future
Cause we get result of what we do!

However we’ll have the final result
Of our actions on the Day of Resurrection!

God acts according to plans
We should also plan our future
And try to make it happen.

Even God does not know everything
In absolute detail
And He doesn’t need to know it.
It is an endless story
Even God forgets some things
After zillions and zillions of years
That’s one of the reasons
Why God has written down every important matter
Be it big or small on Laohay Mahfuz.
Therefore we should also read and write
To preserve and spread our wisdom.

There are seventy thousand paths
That lead to paradise
For example
Path of Belief
Path of Truthfulness
Path of Remembrance of God
Path of Charity
Path of Salat
Path of Fasting
Path of Tax
Path of Hajj
And so on.
All the aforesaid paths are straight paths
That leads to respective gates of paradise!
In fact Pool Sirat has seventy thousand levels
All end at the respective gates of paradise!
The Gate of Faith of paradise is the biggest
And it is the must have access to paradise.

However
For a hassle-free journey to paradise
One needs to go through at least
The following paths
Path of Belief
Path of Patience
Path of Preaching of the Truth
And path of any other good work

If you are a firm believer
You will be able to go to paradise
Through the Gate of Belief
If you are a truthful person
You will be able to go to paradise
Through the Gate of Truthfulness
And so forth

So you see it’s very easy to go to paradise
But it’s very difficult
To be very prestigious
In the eyes of God.

N.B. - Laohay Mahfuz is God's Diary and Pool Sirat is bridges of light that will connect the field of Judgment Day and paradise between them will be hell.

poem by Asif Andalib
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In An Ivory Palace

Besieged was my love life totally unwilled.
An Ivory Palace you have helped me build.
With walls so high and locks on the gates,
Watchmen all along the paths doth irritate.
Fascinated visitors come at the gate and go,
For not even the grounds I desire to show.
My will to find joy in love now all broken,
Spirit shattered leaving not any love token.
Pleasing memoirs of love past doth retake.
Mind's eye doth pretty wall images make.
Helping the soul within find solace there.
It would be nice to find true love to share.
I would that it could be within my power,
To fill the terrain all with beautiful flower.
To walk among them; their beauty to feel,
Through passing time; my soul might heal.
To the Creator I rise as with Him I meditate,
Hoping to find the path with another to relate.
Wisdom and knowledge gained during prayer,
To receive the gift of love first we must share!

poem by Joseph Blitch
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Roses Growing In Our Own Prison Walls

this is the situation,
soon you will find
you live in prison walls,
and those who see you
tell you
you have no God.

perhaps they say that
since they see no
icons on our walls
we bow not
to sunsets
we make no wooden
crosses

oh, let us tell them
we've grown roses in our prison walls
on the fertile grounds
of our heart
we speak to God
in our poetry
with all the silence and
gentleness
and patience of the
snail

we have gone beyond
wood, and stone,
and images,
we have passed through
all these walls
man-made as they are,
we have jumped over the
fences of
the flesh, and they who use
their eyes
in the middle of their own
human light
do not see

we, have, only,
hearts.
we, are, pure,
hearts.
we, are, love,
solitude,
in privacy with
our God.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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