Pastureland
Pastureland is soft now that the rainfall concluded,
The ley became softer when the storm elapsed.
Exotic yield redeemed the granger and hooked onto it,
Shafting the crows as the payoff, the final payment.
A pasture was formed for the stomaching of goods,
The cattle tutored us into cogitating on those deeds too prominent.
May we render deaf the animate being refusing us
Our food for our cattle, so brave in importance.
The ley is concentrated in nourishment for them,
Inside this information system we turn up soil.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Old Joe The Black Cattle Dog
Old Joe the black cattle dog has known a better day
Around his jaws he is looking rather gray
He still works cattle but at a much slower pace
A young dog is being trained to take his place,
Old Joe a great cattle dog from a great working line
Is getting old for working cattle at nine
Though still keen to work nowadays he easily tire
The old legs tiring though he still has the desire
To work at cattle but his owner Jimmy say
That Joe is nearing his final working day
He will retire him he has done enough
At his age working cattle for him is too tough
He was a renowned working dog in his prime
But dog and master must bow to father time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cattle Call
(tex owens)
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Woo - hoo - ooo - oop - I - de - de
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Yod-el - od-el- lo - ti - de.
The cattle are prowlin the coyotes are howlin
Way out where the dogies bawl
Where spurs are a-jinglin, a cowboy is singin
This lonesome cattle call.
He rides in the sun til his days work is done
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Singin his cattle call.
For hours he will ride on the range far and wide
When the night winds blow up a squall
His heart is a feather in all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call.
Hes brown as a berry from ridin the prairie
And he sings with an ol western drawl
Woo - hoo - woo - ooo - ti - de
Singin his cattle call.
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cattle Call
Cattle Call
(sung by Elvis in concerts of the 1950s)
[In der mir vorliegenden Version summt er nur die Melodie.]
(Tex Owens)
The cattle are prowlin' and the coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the dogies bawl
Where spurs are a-jinglin' a cowboy is singin'
This lonesome cattle call
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo
He rides in the sun, till his days work is done
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Singin' his cattle call.
For hours he will ride on the range far and wide
When the night wind blows up a squall
His heart is a feather in all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo hoo
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo
He's brown as a berry from ridin' the prairie
And sings with an ol' western drawl
Woo-hoo woo-hoo hoo hoo
Singin' his cattle call
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cattle Call (feat. Eddy Arnold)
[LEANN]
[Yodels]
The cattle are prowlin'
The coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the doggies roam
Where the spurs are a jinglin'
And the cowboy is singin'
His lonesome cattle call
[Yodels]
He rides in the sun
'Til his days work is done,
And he rounds up the cattle each fall
[Yodels]
Singing his cattle call
[EDDY]
For hours he would ride
On the range far and wide
When the night winds blows up like smoke
His heart is a feather
In all kinds of weather
He sings his cattle call
[Yodels]
He's browned as a fairy
From riding the prairie
And he sings with an old western drawl
[Yodels]
Singin' his cattle call
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Abundant Harvest
The following was composed and read at a gathering in the new
Parsonage, Salford, in the fall, 1883.
The farmers are in cheerful mood,
For harvest all it hath been good;
And all the grain was sown this spring
An abundant yield will bring.
And you can scarcely stow away.
The yield of barley, oats and hay ;
Such pasture it is seldom seen,
E'en now it is so fresh and green.
This beauteous color nature decks
While it insures you large milk checques [sic],
And certes you've much cause to praise
For hogs and cattle that you raise.
poem by James McIntyre
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The cattle is as good as the pasture in which it grazes.
Inside Information
One man to the left
One man to the right
One man in the middle
One man dressed in white
One man in the east
One man from the west
One man in the middle
One man under house arrest
(step back)
Get hooked on the power
Gotta stay in the game
Be the man of the hour
Gotta make a name for yourself
And the lady waits, so patiently
She waits for the call
She knows just what you need
You need inside, information
Information at a very high price
She gives you inside, information
That can change your whole life overnight,
In a minute
One man to the left
One man to the right
One man in the middle
Caught in the broad daylight
Just a man on the street
Another face in the crowd
One man on the beat
Wants everything that hes not allowed
And the lady waits, so patiently
She waits for the call
She knows just what you need
You need inside, information
She can get it at a very high price
A little, inside, information
It can change your whole life overnight
With a little inside, information
You get money, you get power, you get it all
Yeah but that inside, information
Can leave you waiting for that hammer to fall
(let it fall)
She gets that inside, information
Information at a very high price
With that inside, information
Its danger with each roll of the dice
You want that inside, information
Take the money, take the power, take it all
Take that inside, information
But get ready cause the hammer will fall
Its gonna fall
Inside, information
Inside, information
Is she telling you straight
Is she telling you straight
Is she telling you straight
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The white men told lies for each other. They drove off a great many of our cattle. Some branded our young cattle so they could claim them.
quote by Chief Joseph
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But if cattle and horses or lions had hands, or were able to draw with their hands and do the work that men can do, horses would draw the forms of the gods like horses, and cattle like cattle, and they would make their bodies such as they each had themselves.
quote by Xenophanes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our revered Cattle
In our country oxen are used to plough,
And man declares, "the animals, we love"!
After harvest man gathers the grains to eat,
And offers the hay to the animal as a treat.
Man collects the cotton from the tree,
And the seeds he presents to the cattle for free.
Before cooking the grains he washes it with water,
And that is the cattle's drinking water.
Their milk meant for the calves are for man,
And he produces milk products as much as he can;
From it he makes yoghurt and sells it in a can,
He stirs the milk and retrieves butter on a pan.
When butter is melt, the aromatic ghee is got,
With ghee, delicious sweets are made and brought;
In villages cow-dung cakes are largely used,
With which glowing fire is instantly infused.
Cow-dung aids in the cleaning the floor off bacteria—
So are the many merits of cattle—is man's idea!
Man, the human is of no use to the cattle,
But they willingly serve us—let us revere the cattle!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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The Beef Epitaph
This is what it was: Sometime in the recent but until now unrecorded
past, it was decided by certain ingenious and commercially forward-looking
cattle-ranchers in a certain large, modern Western nation which prides itself
on being nutritionally forward-looking, that since people are increasingly
nutrition-conscious, and increasingly insistent that "you are what you
eat," all cattle on the way to market were to be marked with brief
descriptive tags noting the favorite food of each animal; and also stating
approximately how much each ate of it. This, it was felt, would both delight
the diner and comfort the nutrition-conscious consumer: people would be able to
tell exactly what kind of flavor and texture of beef they were purchasing
beforehand, and always be able to secure exactly the kind of product most
likely to delight their taste, since they would know a whole lot more than ever
before about the quality and kind of nourishment which the animal had received
(it was a little like our own, well-established, present-day modern American
system of catering to preferences for light and dark meat in chicken--by
supplying each part shrink-wrapped in a separate bag in the supermarkets). The
system set up by those ingenious and commercially forward-looking
cattle-ranchers was remarkably efficient; and seemed--at least at first--to be
destined for success. This is how it worked: First, on each animal's
last day on the ranch, they attached the main, or so-called "parent"
tag--made out according to information provided by each rancher, or their hired
hands, or even (in some cases) their immediate family--to each head of
livestock. The information contained on each tag would be of course be
definitive, since it was compiled just before the two or three days required
for shipment of the animal to the slaughterhouse--during which travel time, of
course, the animal customarily doesn't eat anything, anyway.... Once at the
slaughterhouse, they carefully removed the "parent tags"; and during
the slaughtering, mechanically duplicated them numerous times, preparing
perhaps hundreds of tiny labels for each animal. Immediately afterwards, at the
packing plant, these miniature, or "baby" tags were affixed,
respectively to the proper bodily parts--each section of each animal being
separately and appropriately tagged, each as if with an epitaph. But then
something went wrong with this means of delighting the diner, and of comforting
the nutrition-conscious consumer. At first, quite predictably, the tags came
out reading things like "Much grass, a little moss, medium grain" and
"Much grass, much grain, generally ate a lot." And this, as one might
expect, proved (at least at first), a great pleasure to purchasers! But then
tags began coming through reading things like "A little grass, a little
grain, many diverse scraps from our table"; and "She was our favorite
pet--gave her all we had to give"; and there was even one (featured at
dinnertime one evening on network television news) which was tear-stained and
which said, in a child's handwriting, "Good-bye, Little Blackie Lamb,
sorry you had to grow up--I'll sure miss you!" And so, gradually, despite
its efficiency, this system somehow ceased to delight the diner, and comfort
the nutrition-conscious consumer. And this is how the practise of The Beef
Epitaph became generally neglected over the course of time; and how the members
of a large, nutrition-conscious, and otherwise generally quite sophisticated
modern nation very much like our own, came to eat their beef--as indeed they
still do today--partially or even totally blindfolded.
poem by Michael Benedikt
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Storms
no storm has a strong wind
that takes the roof
of your house
that levels coconut
trees to kiss the
ground like some
lizards kissing
the floors
on late afternoons
no storm is harsher
than those that
erases a neighborhood
waters rising
people perishing
cattle and cars
stolen from you
on the wink
of an eye
no storm is greater
than this
this storm inside
us that nobody sees
and feels
except the heart
to a time ticking
and soon
will burst and
kill and erase
the whole world
right at the
very cold stare
of your eyes
the tempest within
and you shall be lost forever
only if you do not
hold on to life
you must beg
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cuppacumalonga
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, where go you to-day?'
I go to Cuppacumalomga, fifty miles away;
Over plains where Summer rains have sung a song of glee,
Over hills where laughing rills go seeking for the sea,
I go to Cuppacumalonga, to my brother Bill.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, how do you get there?'
For twenty miles I amble on upon my pony mare,
The walk awhile and talk awhile to country men I know,
Then up to ride a mile beside a team that travels slow,
And last to Cuppacumalonga, riding with a will.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, what do you do then?'
I camp beneath a kurrajong with three good cattle-men;
Then off away at break of day, with strong hands on the reins,
To laugh and sing while mustering the cattle on the plains -
For up to Cuppacumalonga life is jolly still.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, how may I go too?'
I'll saddle up my creamy colt and he shall carry you -
My creamy colt who will not bolt, who does not shy nor kick -
We'll pack the load and take the road and travel very quick.
And if the day brings work or play we'll meet it with a will.
So Hi for Cuppacumalonga!
Come Along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Prominent Men
Through all of the highways, the byways Ive travelled
Through all of the sidestreets and alleys of sin
Through all thats been heard nothing sinks quite as low
As the prominent statements of prominent men
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
The streets that have life with the cats underbelly
Aligned with their tracks of a thousand good-byes
A poor woman screams with the heat of disaster
As the prominent men sit and strengthen their ties
Oh, the prominent girls of the prominent people
Make prominent dresses and prominent hair
Oh, their prominent wealth and their eyes blazed with shadow
The prominent horrors with the ghost millionaire
The shiny stained window now cracked at sunset
They shiny red dawn of the heart soon must fall
This simply occurred at the seat of the cauldron
Those prominent men hadnt been there at all
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
Oh, the prominent child of these prominent people
Seeks prominent schools with the finery of age
With a prominent pink of a tasteless red orchid
The prominent men casts a prominent heir
The child of the agent walks barefoot upon grass
He screams with a power that terrors green eyes
His knife harshly glistening, stabs noways and always
But those prominent men in nowhere in sight
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Farm-Picture
THROUGH the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,
A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding;
And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away.
poem by Walt Whitman
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A farm picture
a christian poet reading
a page of the koran
and all taken up by how god
himself could be so emotionally
worked up by the beauty
of the cattle walking in a line
on a plain, admiring, appreciating
his own creation
well men were created in his likeness
how wrong they have taken this likeness
to mean only appearances
but god fumes, curses, kills,
sometimes whole cities
all over the bibles, and if you like the koran
a christian poet lost in the lines
all about an entity, an entity
brighter than light, more eminent
than all the intelligences put together
inspired by
A Farm-Picture
THROUGH the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,
A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding;
And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Fruit of Soil! ! !
Luck is the same
for Man and flower
I think they have
The same birth star.
Flower and man
Man and flower
Start their lives
From lap of soil
Pass through the stages
Of their lives,
Get their nourishment
From the kind soil;
So soil is the mother
Of man and flower
Their start and end
Both are same
Their only difference is
in their names.
But when Time comes
They get withered.
And again lie back
In the soft and kind
Lap of soil…
.
poem by Shahzia Batool
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The Battle of Life
Never give up, though life be a battle
Wherein true men may fail, and true causes be sold;
Yet, on the whole, however may rattle
The thunders of chance, scaring cowards like cattle—
Clear victory’s always the bride of the bold.
Armed in your right-though friendship deny you,
And love fall away when the storm’s at the worst,
Count not your loss, Was destined to try you—
Bear the brunt like a man, and your deeds shall ally you
To natures more noble and true than the first.
Rail not at Fate: if rightly you scan her,
There’s none loves more strongly the heart that endures:
On, in the hero’s calm resolute manner,
Still bear aloft your hope’s long-trusted banner,
And the day, if you do but live through it, is yours.
Be this your faith; and if killing strokes clatter
On your harness where true men before you have died,
Fight on, let your life-blood be poured out like water—
Fight on, make at least a brave end of the matter,
Brave end of the struggle if nothing beside
poem by Charles Harpur
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Cattle Call
[LEANN]
[Yodels]
The cattle are prowlin'
The coyotes are howlin'
Way out where the doggies roam
Where the spurs are a jinglin'
And the cowboy is singin'
His lonesome cattle call
[Yodels]
He rides in the sun
'Til his days work is done
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes from Blue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love and Slaughter
Sheep are by a goat while
cattle are like swine, prodded, yet
cattle go by hammer while
swine are by the hind leg hung
then swung about to spigot.
Quicker, infinitely cleaner, is
the hacksaw of sweet Susan's laughter.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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