In the Spirit of Rumi,31-The Swan
How beautiful the white swan,
gliding effortlessly, it seems,
the sunlight shining on those feathers
protecting its skin and body better
than do clothes protect a man!
White as if to proclaim God’s beauty mov ing
on the waters, like the first day of Creation,
it dips its carefully constructed neck so elegantly
to find its invisible food…
while invisibly too, under the surface,
its legs paddle hard and fast…
Who would dare to call the swan
a hypocrite because of this!
In India they call the saints
who seem to glide so effortlessly
through life, glide across our gaze
so that for a moment, we would be them…
call them Paramahansa, great swan..
who knows how hard a swan
finds its life, moving against a fierce current,
lifting its huge body into the air,
knowing direction more clearly than any man…
who knows how hard a saint
works invisibly all the time, has worked,
will work, eternally… for us,
watching on the river-bank of life
the river, itself yearning for the sea,
to lose itself in the vast harbour of the waters…
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Black Swan
When the swans turned my sister into a swan
I would go to the lake, at night, from milking:
The sun would look out through the reeds like a swan,
A swan's red beak; and the beak would open
And inside there was darkness, the stars and the moon.
Out on the lake, a girl would laugh.
"Sister, here is your porridge, sister,"
I would call; and the reeds would whisper,
"Go to sleep, go to sleep, little swan."
My legs were all hard and webbed, and the silky
Hairs of my wings sank away like stars
In the ripples that ran in and out of the reeds:
I heard through the lap and hiss of water
Someone's "Sister . . . sister," far away on the shore,
And then as I opened my beak to answer
I heard my harsh laugh go out to the shore
And saw - saw at last, swimming up from the green
Low mounds of the lake, the white stone swans:
The white, named swans . . . "It is all a dream,"
I whispered, and reached from the down of the pallet
To the lap and hiss of the floor.
And "Sleep, little sister," the swan all sang
From the moon and stars and frogs of the floor.
But the swan my sister called, "Sleep at last, little sister,"
And stroked all night, with a black wing, my wings.
poem by Randall Jarrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I have had so many great moments, but I would have to say that dancing the Swan in 'Swan Lake' was such a unique and passionate experience for me. It was such bloody hard work, even at that very early age, that I would not want to try to replicate it again now.
quote by William Kempe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Swan ~ A Villanelle
Floating upon the crystal pond
She kept wearing her diamond crown
While the other white swan was gone
Never doubting their fierce loving bond
As the leaves went from reddish to brown
Floating upon the crystal pond
Her blue eyes searching far beyond
Couldn't see that he'd recently drowned
While the other white swan was gone
So curling, becoming withdrawn
When ten suns in the sky settled down
Floating upon the crystal pond
She talked to the geese that were blond
And asked where he was with a frown
While the other white swan was gone
They cared not and didn't respond
In the reeds was a kings golden crown
Floating upon the crystal pond
While the other white swan was gone
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Swan Song(dying sentence)
Remember me, remember my swan song,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live it all over again,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live that stain of my plastered smile again,
Let this be the last moment,
Let me say the last good-bye,
It won't count anything now,
So let me lay in silence,
Life has treated me well and I have had enough of it,
Lets end this game,
Enough of milling in and out,
Hear my swan song,
And let this end now,
I need to be away,
away from these thorns,
far far away,
Where you'll only see my memories,
my shadows,
my untold stories buried after me,
and my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
I feel like a fish out of water,
from pillar to post,
fallen back upon,
Let me be buried under sand,
let me give my final test,
I'll never return, its time to sing,
sing my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
maybe this moment or the other,
my soul would rest in peace,
before disappearing,
let me sing,
sing my swan song,
I only remember now the memory lived in me,
a perfectly encapsulated morsel,
of a good past,
from piebald brush strokes swaying,
to barren now, that I'd become,
As I'll say my last goodbye,
hear my swan song,
because now you'll never hear my voice again,
for ever and ever and ever...
Written on 5/6/11
poem by Ayesha Riaz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dead Swan.....
The swan did not die as elegantly as she had dreamed
Free willed mid-flight into waters rich serene
Lazing upon the bank sun stroking her plume
She did not pass away as she dared hope or assume
She died beneath the foliage of her most desired oak
A stifling long term within his ivy which choke
His branches entwined her intestines to core
A twist of the gut which he chose to ignore
He gazed across the waters assuming his role
Never stopping to observe the damage, its toll
The swan she did not die a last elegant breath
Her oak barely noticed, when her spirit had left
poem by Karen Sinclair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This One
Did I ever take you in my arms,
Look you in the eye, tell you that I do,
Did I ever open up my heart
And let you look inside.
If I never did it, I was only waiting
For a better moment that didnt come.
There never could be a better moment
Than this one, this one.
The swan is gliding above the ocean,
A God is riding upon his back,
How calm the water and bright the rainbow
Fade this one to black.
Did I ever touch you on the cheek
Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile,
Did I ever knock upon your door
And try to get inside?
If I never did it, I was only waiting
For a better moment that didnt come.
There never could be a better moment
Than this one, this one.
The swan is gliding above the ocean,
A God is riding upon his back,
How calm the water and bright the rainbow
Fade this swan to black.
What opportunities did we allow to flow by
Feeling like like the timing wasnt quite right?
What kind of magic might have worked if we had stayed calm,
Couldnt I have given you a better life?
Did you ever take me in your arms,
Look me in the eye, tell me that you do?
Did I ever open up my heart,
Let you look inside?
If I never did it, I was only waiting
For a better moment that didnt come.
There never could be a better moment
Than this one, this one.
The swan is gliding above the ocean,
A God is riding upon his back,
How calm the water and bright the rainbow
Fade this swan to black.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I shall not Die for thee
O woman, shapely as the swan,
On your account I shall not die:
The men you've slain -- a trivial clan --
Were less than I.
I ask me shall I die for these --
For blossom teeth and scarlet lips --
And shall that delicate swan-shape
Bring me eclipse?
Well-shaped the breasts and smooth the skin,
The cheeks are fair, the tresses free --
And yet I shall not suffer death,
God over me!
Those even brows, that hair like gold,
Those languorous tones, that virgin way,
The flowing limbs, the rounded heel
Slight men betray!
Thy spirit keen through radiant mien,
Thy shining throat and smiling eye,
Thy little palm, thy side like foam --
I cannot die!
O woman, shapely as the swan,
In a cunning house hard-reared was I:
O bosom white, O well-shaped palm,
I shall not die!
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The eyes of impressionism
Saints.
Like swans, gliding untroubled so it seems
to us, lazing on the river bank
of a Seurat summer Sunday afternoon,
gliding over the surface of the waters
as love perhaps, on that first day;
they as floating symbols
of the beauty beyond beauty;
their work, invisible to us who watch
Painters.
Like waterlilies, resting in perfection
on the surface of the waters
as love rests, sure of their own beauty;
painting just the sunlight
falling on things, moving on
more slowly than we see;
the depth of the waters
in the painter’s mind and heart;
his work invisible to us who watch
his dabbing at the canvas
as a dabchick bobs in the water, his mind
moving as time moves;
for him, sitting at the canvas,
always time present,
in the water-garden already on his palette
Cataracts.
How far a word from
the stillness around him as he sits,
his beard a little yellow from the nicotine,
seeing the waterlilies as if for the first time,
but each year the water seems to tell
more about time itself… like Proust;
where is time going in this painting?
Eyes.
Cataracts, yes; but perhaps over time
they too have sought to serve him,
become themselves, impressionists,
presenting him with images
prepared like canvasses are prepared;
gently watering inner gardens
between the eyes and mind
yes, that’s Monsieur Monet over there;
don’t disturb him; but if you stand
a little way behind him, you just may
enter the stillness around him,
enter the stillness of his mind,
see with his eyes, that work
invisible to those of us who watch
which swans and saints and artists know.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale.
From what land do you come,
O Swan? to what shore will you fly?
Where would you take your rest,
O Swan, and what do you seek?
Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me!
There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule:
where the terror of Death is no more.
There the woods of spring are a-bloom,
and the fragrant scent 'He is I' is borne on the wind:
There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed,
and desires no other joy.
Do Swans smile...?
Do Swans smile? ...
Serenity the note of their bodies' flow
Their secret song but none will know
The water's black and moonbeam's white
Become kin with them in the darkened night
Immaculate white, graceful form
Beauty with placid majesty born
To behold the sight of a Swan in waters adrift
Is for a rose to bloom amidst a heart's mists
A sense of quiet joy, warmly does spring
Her presence in the world a smile does bring
She will move with winds and waters in grace
Though no smile may be seen on Her face
And the poem that is She will linger with whom ever the beholder
A Swan brings the smile of sweet lyric though not worn on Her.
poem by Dilshan Boange
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The White Swan
kiss the lake at dawn
graceful, divine, majestic
new queen, the white swan
haiku by Marius Alexandru (27 December 2020)
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
Swan Lee
Swan lee got up at the running foot pow-wow,
Heading from the fire to his waiting canoe.
Chattering squaw untied the wigwam door,
The chief blew smoke rings two by two!
The land in silence stands...
Swan lee, his boat by the bank in the darkness,
Loosened the rope in the creek is entwined.
A feather from the wing of a wild young eagle,
Pointed to the land where his fortune he'd find
The land in silence stands
Swan lee paddled on from the land of his fathers,
His eyes scanned the undergrowth on either side.
From the shore hung a hot, heavy, creature infested
Tropic, swan lee had a bow by his side
The land in silence stands
Swan lee kept time, half on land, half on water,
Grizzly bear and raccoon his fare.
He followed his ears to the great water fall,
Swan lee knew deep down that his squaw was there!
The land in silence stands....
Suddenly the rush of the mighty great thunder,
Confronted swan lee as his song he sang,
In the dawn, with his squaw, he was battling homewards
It was all written down by long silas lang.
The land in silence stands...
The land in silence stands...
The land in silence stands.
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
To Be And So On
To Be or…
The swan on the lake doesn’t know it is a swan,
they say. How do they know? A swan may look
at us and say to another swan “Darling humans
don’t who they are.” Quite right my lovely, they
are daft that way” (swans have lot in common
with actors, the lake is their stage and we are
their adoring audience) I know that because Tom,
the only actor I have met in the flesh, called me
darling, well, not only me but everyone he spoke
to. Tom died no one calls me darling anymore.
We only think we know ourselves, if we really did
it would be too scary to know that inside us lurks
a monster.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
23a, Swan Hill
(ian hunter)
(transcribed by justin purington; corrections by colin ford)
Wrote this poem
Called the floods roll on
He said this aint yours,
Whered you get it from?
You must have stole it from a book,
Oh yeah
You must have stole it from a book.
cause you aint frail
You aint beautiful,
And I dont fancy you
At all.
Youd be a ruin
If looks could kill
23 a, swan hill
Stiff with rage
Screaming at the sky
Innocence breaks
Says she wants to die
Im assuming Im alive
Oh yeah
Im assuming Im alive
She pushes and she pulls
My legs go weak
In fascinating terror
The whole world moves
And Im standing still
In 23a swan hill
And its always raining
And you never ask why
You never give yourself a shot
You just sit and watch your life go by
Kicking stones
At a still life
Want to pull it down
Slash it slash it
There must be some way out here
There must be some way out here
This aint right
There must be more to life
Than breaking and entering
Doing peoples heads in
Alcohol, nicotine
Thinking what I might have been
You would be a ruin
If looks could kill
23 a, swan hill
And the whole world moves
And Im standing still
In 23 a, swan hill
And I will
And I will
And I will
And I will
In 23 a, swan hill
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Day is Dying
Day is dying! Float, o song,
Down the westward river,
Requiem chanting to the Day,
Day, the mighty giver!
Pierced by shafts of Time he bleeds,
Melted rubies sending
Through the river and the sky,
Earth and heaven blending.
All the long-drawn earthy banks
Up to cloudland lifting:
Slow between them drifts the swan
'Twixt two heavens drifting,
Wings half open like a flower.
In by deeper flushing,
Neck and breast as virgin's pure
Virgin proudly blushing.
Day is dying! Float, o swan,
Down the ruby river,
Follow, song, in requiem
To the mighty Giver!
poem by George Eliot
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
The Local
If you're lost for somewhere to go
When you're walking around llanon
There's a pub up a hill I know
That's simply named the White Swan
You won't find a more friendly crowd
No matter where you may live
Some are quiet but most are loud
But none more so than one named Viv
The landlord likes his horses
And happy to have a bet
No matter what the course is
He never ends up in debt
The drinks on display are diverse
Whether it is spirits or stout
You may want to come to converse
Or to try the food and pig out
So next time you're in transition
And thoughts of where to go are gone
I have a good proposition
And that's to try out the White Swan
poem by Alun Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The swan (Terzanelle)
I saw a swan reflected on a pond
majestically with bended neck
with some little ones trailing beyond
speck upon speck
reflected on the glittering surface,
majestically with bended neck
as if sailing solemnly to efface
all doubt to its grace and splendour
reflected on the glittering surface
and emanating from the bird some warmth, some ardour
the tale of Andromache was reminded to me.
All doubt to its grace and splendour
was made insignificant by sheer beauty
and without mate with widowed grief
the tale of Andromache was reminded to me
who loved the hero Hector but brief.
I saw a swan reflected on a pond
and without mate with widowed grief
with some little ones trailing beyond.
[References: Les Fleurs du Mal: The Swan by Charles Pierre Baudelaire. The swan by Roy Campbell.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tone
Find me a tone for this poem
I am having a hard time
With putting the proper tone
Though I am pretty sure
Of its form
What form to use
The shape of the swan
A white swan
On a lake
Alone
Give me a tone
That conveys what I
Want to convey
To you
A language
That really means
What it says
Something
Creative
A path
That I must
Follow
Leading me
To you
Give me a tone
Please
A tone from
You
The one
I really love
The one
That must
Love me
Too
Truly,
Tell me
What is the
Tone now
Of this poem
Is it begging?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Swan, Let us Fly
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land has an up-ended well
Whose mouth, narrow as a thread,
The married soul draws water from
Without a rope or pitcher.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
Clouds never cluster there,
Yet it goes on and on raining.
Don’t keep squatting outside in the yard –
Come in! Get drenched without a body!
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land is always soaked in moonlight;
Darkness can never come near it.
It is flooded always with the dazzle
Of not one, but a million suns.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
Swan
Traffic jams, Concorde drones
TV's and radios drown me out
You won't change slamming doors
Temper, temper, that tongue of yours, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
Dumbells crash, babies cry
A thousand voices, mostly lies, drown me out
The underground, Marble Arch
The deafening snap of breaking hearts, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
Barking dogs, the lonely roam
The great unlaid making their way home, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
song performed by by Right Said Fred
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!