She
I know her, her bitter silence,
Her tiredness of her words and cries,
Lives in the secret changing brightness
Of widened pupils of her eyes.
Her heart is opened with craving
Only to music of the verse,
Before the life of joy and playing,
She stands aloof and won’t converse.
Her steps aren’t heard or ever hurried:
They’re quiet, oddly smooth and fine,
She can’t be called a beauty, starry,
But keeps all happiness of mine.
And, if I might be selfish ever,
Or brave and proud, as I could –
I’ll learn the pain, so sweet and clever,
In her delirious, dreamy mood.
A source of light in pine and sadness, --
She carries lightning in her hands,
Her dreams are clear, as clear the shadows
On flaming paradise’s sands.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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Related quotes
Glittering Prize
Shine on, shine the light on me,
In all of my life so that much more I see
In the light of his love
In the light of reflection
Oh what a world
Or sometimes oh so it seems
Eyes in the skies
In that silver gift friendship
A glittering prize
Is it the prize of lost loves
They can remember quiet sides of midnight
They can remember the attraction of fame
Like a glittering prize
I saw up on a clear day
First taking hearts
Then our last breath away
Always came a time - time was on our side
We were spending time - we were staring out
Catch me in a dream - captured all in heart
We were spending time - we were staring out
Could there ever be - ever more than one
Its called an act of love
Can you you never stop?
Shine on, shine the light on me,
In all of my life
So much more I see
Like a glittering prize
I saw you up on a clear day
First taking heart then our last breath away
Only on a clear day coming into our lives
See it in the eye - satellite skies
We were spending time - we were staring out
Take in, take in more - the endless breath away
We were spending time - we were staring out
Could there ever be - ever more than one
Its called an act of love
Can you you never stop?
Always on a clear day
Crashing into our lives
Is it the price of love
Like a glittering prize
Always on a clear day
Crashing into our lives
With your love
Only on a clear day
Words & music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Faithless Shadows.
The faithless shadows of day are running
And high and clear is the call of bells,
Steps of the church are blazed as with the lightning,
Their stones are alive and wait for your light steps.
You'll here pass and touch the chilly stone,
That's dressed in awful sanity of span,
And let the flower of spring be thrown
Here, in this dark, before the eyes of saint.
The rose shadows in misty darkness grow,
And high and clear is the call of bells,
The darkness lays on steps, such old and low --
I'm set in light -- I wait for dear steps.
poem by Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok
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To Isadore
I. Beneath the vine-clad eaves,
Whose shadows fall before
Thy lowly cottage door--
Under the lilac's tremulous leaves--
Within thy snowy clasped hand
The purple flowers it bore.
Last eve in dreams, I saw thee stand,
Like queenly nymph from Fairy-land--
Enchantress of the flowery wand,
Most beauteous Isadore!
II. And when I bade the dream
Upon thy spirit flee,
Thy violet eyes to me
Upturned, did overflowing seem
With the deep, untold delight
Of Love's serenity;
Thy classic brow, like lilies white
And pale as the Imperial Night
Upon her throne, with stars bedight,
Enthralled my soul to thee!
III. Ah! ever I behold
Thy dreamy, passionate eyes,
Blue as the languid skies
Hung with the sunset's fringe of gold;
Now strangely clear thine image grows,
And olden memories
Are startled from their long repose
Like shadows on the silent snows
When suddenly the night-wind blows
Where quiet moonlight lies.
IV. Like music heard in dreams,
Like strains of harps unknown,
Of birds for ever flown,--
Audible as the voice of streams
That murmur in some leafy dell,
I hear thy gentlest tone,
And Silence cometh with her spell
Like that which on my tongue doth dwell,
When tremulous in dreams I tell
My love to thee alone!
V. In every valley heard,
Floating from tree to tree,
Less beautiful to me,
The music of the radiant bird,
Than artless accents such as thine
Whose echoes never flee!
Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine:--
For uttered in thy tones benign
(Enchantress!) this rude name of mine
Doth seem a melody!
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Sonnet 01
ALL beautiful things bring sadness, nor alone
Music, whereof that wisest poet spake;
Because in us keen longings they awake
After the good for which we pine and groan,
From which exil’d we make continual moan,
Till once again we may our spirits slake
At those clear streams, which man did first forsake,
When he would dig for fountains of his own.
All beauty makes us sad, yet not in vain:
For who would be ungracious to refuse,
Or not to use, this sadness without pain,
Whether it flows upon us from the hues
Of sunset, from the time of stars and dews,
From the clear sky, or waters pure of stain?
poem by Richard Chenevix Trench
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13 Steps Lead Down
When nobody knows she puts on secret clothes
And lies in the meadow with her hands tied behind her back
I wont refuse if you know how to use it
Just stop playing that ugly drug music
Chorus:
Thirteen steps lead down
Thirteen steps lead down
Theres commoners and kings
And everyones a prisoner of
Paper and glue
And a decent pair of scissors
So tonight Im drinking to your health
Because I just cant stand myself
Thirteen steps lead down [4x]
She stands and fails
On fashion fingernails
Her lovers have her walking round
On instruments of torture
And one of them is poisonous
The other is a thief they say
So what one could give to her
The other cannot take away
When nobody knows she puts on secret clothes
And lies in her splendour for a picture opportunity
Cover up that bruise, put on patent leather shoes
Just stop playing that bad mood music
Chorus
Thirteen steps lead down [4x]
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Shrill The Piper Plays His Tune
When thoughts are idle wanderings
Words tumbled round and round
When feelings they turn inwardly
Still I hear the piper's sound.
When happiness is broken
And the Kings and Queens are gone
The piper's tune keeps playing
And I hear his victory song.
For even when awoken
From the sleepiness of time
There's a distant music playing
Heard clear within my mind
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
No-one has seen this piper man
And no-one has seen him play
But we all can hear his mournfulness
And fear for what he'll say
No folds of fathered cornfields
And no breaking of the bread
The piper's tune keeps playing
With his words as yet unsaid.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
We can all hear if we but try
The piper's song so sweet
The musings and meanderings
Of souls lost whole complete
No piper plays before we're born
Before we touch the earth
The piper's tunes they all begin
From the moment of our birth.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
Like happiness disease'd
And all the notes that he plays out
Are our moments ill at ease.
Not one of us pays him to play
Nor gives him any score
For every note that he blows out
Is fully paid before
We entertain our wanderings
And confusion in the mind
For the piper's very soul turns out
To be both yours and mine.
For shrill the piper plays his tune
That beckons every day
And when his tune is full played out
He carries us away.
poem by David Keig
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Degrees Of Love
When your eyes opened to mine eyes,
Without desire, without surprise,
I knew your soul awoke to see
All, dreams foretold, but could not be,
Yet loving me, not loving me.
When your eyes drooped before mine eyes,
As though some secret made them wise,
Some wisdom veiled them secretly,
I knew your heart began to be
In love with love, in love with me.
When your eyes tawned against mine eyes,
With beaten hunger, and with cries,
In bitter pride's humility,
Love, wholly mine, had come to be.
Hatred of love for loving me.
poem by Arthur Symons
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I Wait For You...
I wait for you. The years in silence pass
And as the image, one, I wait for you again.
The distance is in flame -- and clear one as glass,
I, silent, wait -- with sadness, love and pain.
The distance is in flame, and you are coming fast,
But I'm afraid that you will change your image yet,
And will initiate the challenging mistrust
By changing features, used, at long awaited end.
Oh, how I will fell -- so low and so pine,
Unable to overcome my dreams' continued set!
The distance is such bright! And azure is so fine!
But I'm afraid that you will change your image yet.
poem by Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok
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Can pain ever be clear?
Can pain ever be clear?
Will it ever be as clear as the skies.
Nothing is ever cut and dry.
My life is falling down around me.
My heart hurts like never before.
I often wonder what is my life for.
Why can't my pain ever be clear?
Deppression is never obvious but suicide is.
My life is not mine.
It belongs to a force from futher beyond.
It belongs to those who want to bring me down.
Why can't pain ever be clear.
I'm here all alone.
No one around me knows my pain.
It hurts so much.
The pain from the years.
Hidden away but not forgotten.
My pain hurts.
I just wish it could be clear.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Rat 3
you must have heard about what they are saying.
i say, you have seen shadows cast on the walls of ignorance.
my hands are not birds.
they tell you that they are scissors.
my face does not have gentle eyes
did they tell you that what i have are raging balls of fire?
i have heard what you have heard too
that in my world there lives the eye of the storm
that in my orbit, there is this path that destroys
every passer-by
or even the innocent traveler,
i am tired of all these
shadows and shadows
they have not gone deep inside the oceans of my being
they have not felt the gentleness of my sands at the bottom
they are wrong
but in my silence i do not wish to correct that impression.
i know myself and that is enough
instruction at the gate of Delphi
where Tiresias is waiting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beauty of Music
The beauty of music surrounds us
Like the sands of time
Always inside of us
And never lost from our lives
Once we hear music…
We slowly submerge into a world created just for us
Invisible from everyone else
Pressure to be someone else banned in this world
We feel peace come over us
And our mood changing quickly
Our troubles being washed away for now
And a clean slate once we listen to music
Music is our lifesaver
Helping us keep sane
Helping us know who we really are
Music helps us forget our lives for only a few minutes…
poem by Casey Lyon
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Good Man
Album : Silencer (2001)
You never had much style about you
We never knew the reason that you
You sat around almost every hour
And quickly lost your bargaining power
You can't be me
I'm convinced you're twice the man we are
And you cannot clear your mind
Cos in our eyes we're fine
And you're running out of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're blind
And its such a waste of time
The threads you wore were something tragic
The words you spoke were so emphatic
The records that you make are tasteless
And eloquence with you is wasted
So whats your method, whats your scheme?
The whole scene knows what you already mean
And you cannot clear my mind
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're running out of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're blind
And its such a waste of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're running out of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're such a waste of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're running out of time
But its not to do with us
And you cannot clear our minds
Cos in our eyes you're fine
And you're such a waste of time
song performed by by Zed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music Of My Heart
MUSIC OF MY HEART
When we are together, there is music in my heart,
but there is only silence, whenever we're apart,
I would rather hear the music playing soft and low,
than hearing only silence everywhere I go,
keep the music playing, keep the sunshine in my life,
so I can dance forever with you as my wife,
there are times when music, is a gentle soft refrain,
just like an angry sky that brings a softly falling rain,
you fill my expectations, you fill all my needs,
my love for you keeps growing, just like sprouting seeds,
when I gaze upon your beauty, a drum beats in my heart,
then I hear the violins, softly playing their sweet part,
soon there is an opera, playing so devine,
all because of my love for you, oh sweet love of mine,
so walk up to my jukebox and put some money in,
you will hear the music, when my heart starts to spin,
it will play a love song, written about a love so true,
it will play forever, and it plays only for you.
written by Harry Bryant
10/29/2002 10: 23: 33?
all rights reserved
poem by Harry Bryant
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Wings
DAWN opes her pensive eyes,
In the yet starry skies,
A roseate blush upon her cheek and brows.
Her purple mantle still
Lies on the sky-kissed hill,
And a blue, solemn shade thereon it throws.
The earth lies hushed and calm.
No chant of praise, no psalm
Riseth to greet the rose-crowned queen of day.
Each blade of grass, each leaf,
Stands out in sharp relief,
Against the rayless blue and silver gray.
All nature seems to wait
For some new deed of Fate;
The silence is a sacred, reverent prayer,—
When hark! from some sweet throat
One thrilling, quivering note
Fills with its tremulous music all the air.
Then from the dewy grass
A tiny form doth pass,
A little soul all music and all wings.
All nature's voice is heard,
Embodied in this bird,
That darteth up and, rising, ever sings.
It mounteth still and sings:
What soul yearns not for wings,
To follow after, burst its prison bars,
And learn the secret there,
In those clear realms of air,
The secret of the rainbow and the stars;
To rush as swift as light,
Within those regions bright
Of throbbing, scintillant, intensest blue;
The air all breathless cleave,
And far below to leave
Regrets and tears, the raindrop and the dew.
Ah! caged 'mongst meaner things,
The soul can use no wings,
And beats against the bars it cannot pass;
But it might humbly turn,
Essaying first to learn
The secret of the flowers and the grass.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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To One In Paradise
If I could see the sky above
And my mind could be set free
As wild white horses reached the shore
I'd stand alone and oversee
And if the bush before me burns
Should I turn my eyes away
And still the voices I can hear
As clear to me as light of day
I believed in my dreams
Nothing could change my mind
(Nothing could change my mind)
Now I know what they mean
How could I be so blind?
Cold sands of time
(Winds that blow cold as ice
Sounds that come in the night)
Shall hide what is left of me
(Come from Paradise)
I've been though times when no one cared
(Words that were mine)
I've seen clouds in empty skies
When one kind word meant more to me
(Shall last as a memory)
Than all the love in Paradise
I believed in my dreams
Nothing could change my mind
(Nothing can save me now)
'Til I found what they mean
Nothing can save me now
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To One Paradise
Lead vocal: terry sylvester
If I could see the sky above
And my mind could be set free
As wild white horses reached the shore
Id stand alone and oversee
And if the bush before me burns
Should I turn my eyes away
And still the voices I can hear
As clear to me as the light of day
I believed in my dreams
Nothing could change my mind
Now I know what they mean
How could I be so blind
Cold sands of time
(winds that blow as cold as ice
Sounds that come in the night)
Shall hide what is left of me
(come from paradise)
Ive been through times when no one cared
(words that were mine)
Ive clouds in empty skies
When one kind word meant more to me
(shall last as a memory)
Than all the love in paradise
I believed in my dreams
Nothing could change my mind
Till I found what they mean
Nothing can save me now
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Go Work in My Vineyard
Go work in my vineyard, said the Lord,
And gather the bruised grain;
But the reapers had left the stubble bare,
And I trod the soil in pain.
The fields of my Lord are wide and broad,
He has pastures fair and green,
And vineyards that drink the golden light
Which flows from the sun's bright sheen.
I heard the joy of the reapers' song,
As they gathered golden grain;
Then wearily turned unto my task,
With a lonely sense of pain.
Sadly I turned from the sun's fierce glare,
And sought the quiet shade,
And over my dim and weary eyes
Sleep's peaceful fingers strayed.
I dreamed I joined with a restless throng,
Eager for pleasure and gain;
But ever and anon a stumbler fell,
And uttered a cry of pain.
But the eager crowd still hurried on,
Too busy to pause or heed,
When a voice rang sadly through my soul,
You must staunch these wounds that bleed.
My hands were weak, but I reached them out
To feebler ones than mine,
And over the shadows of my life
Stole the light of a peace divine.
Oh! then my task was a sacred thing,
How precious it grew in my eyes!
'Twas mine to gather the bruised grain
For the "Lord of Paradise."
And when the reapers shall lay their grain
On the floors of golden light,
I feel that mine with its broken sheaves
Shall be precious in His sight.
Though thorns may often pierce my feet,
And the shadows still abide,
The mists will vanish before His smile,
There will be light at eventide.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Lightning
Its crazy but often clear
But often clear
We shimmer and disappear
In color, in black and white
Black and white
We slowly fade out of sight
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights all were white
Its crazy but somehow clear
Somehow clear
We ride in silence out of fear
We spoke and soon come alive
Come alive
We prefer the silence of the blind
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights all were white
These days were lit by lightning
Of sharp,light,sharp,white,light,hard,good,white
Were crazy but often kind
Often kind
Enrage and in violence blind
You gather, and that alone
That alone
We race in small circles home
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights are were white
These days were lit by lightning
Of sharp, white, light
These days were lit by lightning
These lights are were white
These days were lit by light
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Nightfall
O little hands, long vanished in the night--
Sweet fairy hands that were my treasure here--
My heart is full of music from some sphere,
Where ye make melody for God's delight.
Though autumn clouds obscure the starry height,
And winds are noisy and the land is drear,
In this blank room I feel my lost love near,
And hear you playing--hands so small and white.
The shadowy organ sings its songs again,
The dead years turn to music at its voice,
And all the dreams come back my brain did store.
Once more, dear hands, ye soothe me in my pain,
Once more your music makes my heart rejoice--
God speed the day we clasp for evermore!
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Silence (Part I)
Sometimes I see you as my child,
Sometimes I see you as my sweetheart,
And when I look into your eyes,
I see that tender and sweet smile,
And I want to say what’s in my heart,
And I want to tell you how I feel,
But my voice remains there, still,
And I just stare at your loving face,
And let the love from my heart,
Flow like a wild river in furious race,
to enfold your sweet and pure soul
with a sea of love and tenderness.
Sometimes there’s so much to say,
but nothing flows from my lips,
And only silence is there to stay,
And only the silence I should keep,
Because what I had to say was already said,
How words could express
never-ending love and tenderness?
How could I just say at one time,
I love you more than my own life?
And there remains the deep silence,
Silence and more silence,
to signal that divine presence,
of my silent love; my heart’s essence.
But this silence is not empty silence,
when divine love fills all my senses,
when nature’s beauty colours your soul,
and fades away all pity and woe.
Because when there is silence,
you can hear the silent language,
the heavenly music of my heart’s song,
God’s eternal music He’s been playing all along,
And in that silence you’ll hear my song,
The endless tune that my love sings,
with the sweetest notes in your luscious dreams,
which eternally flow like endless streams.
(2009)
poem by Roberto Echanes
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