The Trees
I know: to the trees, but not to us,
Perfection of the life is given, whole.
And on the Earth – the sister of the stars –
We live in exile, while they do at home.
In latest falls, in sad and empty fields,
The red-brass dawns and amber-clad sunrises
Teach to the hues, dissolved in thinnest films,
These people – green and free forever masses.
Moses exists among these oaks, tall,
And Mary, too – among the palms for ages …
Their souls send to the others quiet calls
With waters, run in darkness, void of edges.
While polishing and brushing stony gems,
And grinding rocks, the springs babble in a chore:
They sing a song, or mourn a broken elm,
Or praise the leaves, which dressed a sycamore.
Oh, if I might be ever blessed to find
The place, where, lost of singing and bewailing,
I would rise silently up to the heaven height
For the millenniums, unending.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Violent Space (Or When Your Sister Sleeps Around For Money)
Exchange in greed the ungraceful signs. Thrust
The thick notes between green apple breasts.
Then the shadow of the devil descends,
The violent space cries and angel eyes,
Large and dark, retreat in innocence and in ice.
(Run sister run—the Bugga man comes!)
The violent space cries silently,
Like you cried wide years ago
In another space, speckled by the sun
And the leaves of a green plum tree,
And you were stung
By a red wasp and we flew home.
(Run sister run—the Bugga man comes!)
Well, hell, lil sis, wasps still sting.
You are all of seventeen and as alone now
In your pain as you were with the sting
On your brow.
Well, shit. lil sis, here we are:
You and I and this poem.
And what should I do? should I squat
In the dust and make strange markings on the ground?
Shall I chant a spell to drive the demon away?
(Run sister run—the Bugga man comes!)
In the beginning you were the Virgin Mary,
And you are the Virgin Mary now.
But somewhere between Nazareth and Bethlehem
You lost your name in the nameless void.
'O Mary don't you weep don't you moan'
O Mary shake your butt to the violent juke,
Absord the demon puke and watch the whites eyes pop,
(Run sister run—the Bugga man comes!)
And what do I do. I boil my tears in a twisted spoon
And dance like an angel on the point of a needle.
I sit counting syllables like Midas gold.
I am not bold. I cannot yet take hold of the demon
And lift his weight from you black belly,
So I grab the air and sing my song.
(But the air cannot stand my singing long.)
poem by Etheridge Knight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Dad, Your Matchless Legacy !
my dad!
it was you who took me by my hand
daily during my boyhood age
amidst star-folks of the night space
and lighted introductory lamps
to spread the rays of friendship amongst us!
the 'dawns'
in which ' Ushaa ', the angel strolls with hues in hand-
the' evenings '
in which the hues meditate in golden sunset moments-
the ' rivers '
in which the sweet babble over pebbly bed is ever heard-
the ' water falls '
in which the far off ' om ' chants are ever raised-
the ' flower gardens '
where there is ever the drizzle of fragrance-
the ' east '
where there is the unfailing chariot festival in mornings-
the ' birds '
the hymns- singing winged devotees-
the ' winds '
that perform rural dances in coconut groves-
the 'green fields '
where rolling rollicking ecstasies dance-
all these and other beauties
you blessed me as ' friends '
even in my boyhood days!
and planted the seeds of ' poesy '
carefully in my tender heart!
today this has grown as huge banyan trees
are they not, all these, your matchless legacy
o.. my dear dad?
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Where is Moses
The ghetto streets are filled with lost souls.
They walk the night with no one to guide them.
Now as I watch a flame burn from a garbage can
I got but one question where is Moses?
Where is Moses to lead all these lost souls to the promise land?
Where is Moses so that he may reach his staff out and part
the sea of bullets that fly through the sky?
Where is Moses so that he may preach to masses
and tell them worship not that idle God known as a crack pipe,
but worship Jesus?
Is Moses some where sitting on a mountain writing
his next top ten rap song?
I know God would never forsake any of his children
but Lord we need guidance. So where is Moses?
Trees Against The Sky
Pines against the sky,
Pluming the purple hill;
Pines . . . and I wonder why,
Heart, you quicken and thrill?
Wistful heart of a boy,
Fill with a strange sweet joy,
Lifting to Heaven nigh -
Pines against the sky.
Palms against the sky,
Failing the hot, hard blue;
Stark on the beach I lie,
Dreaming horizons new;
Heart of my youth elate,
Scorning a humdrum fate,
Keyed to adventure high -
Palms against the sky.
Oaks against the sky,
Ramparts of leaves high-hurled,
Staunch to stand and defy
All the winds of the world;
Stalwart and proud and free,
Firing the man in me
To try and again to try -
Oaks against the sky.
Olives against the sky
Of evening, limpidly bright;
Tranquil and soft and shy,
Dreaming in amber light;
Breathing the peace of life,
Ease after toil and strife . . .
Hark to their silver sigh!
Olives against the sky.
Cypresses glooming the sky,
Stark at the end of the road;
Failing and faint am I,
Lief to be eased of my load;
There where the stones peer white
in the last of the silvery light,
Quiet and cold I'll lie -
Cypresses etching the sky.
Trees, trees against the sky -
O I have loved them well!
There are pleasures you cannot buy,
Treasurers you cannot sell,
And not the smallest of these
Is the gift and glory of trees. . . .
So I gaze and I know now why
It is good to live - and to die. . . .
Trees and the Infinite Sky.
poem by Robert William Service
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Growth And Trees
Growth
Trees are conceived just as humans are
from seeds the striplings rise
Yet rooted to one place
They grow
No choice where their future lies
Subject to nature’s way’s and whim’s
bearing the brunt of chance
No option, no choice
No vote, no voice
they perform in the wind, their arboreal dance
And they grow
Like young children they blossom with grace and wonder
With litheness, with vibrance
Innocence thereunder
filled with awe and wonder
They grow, oh how they grow!
Tall and stronger, each day brings them closer
To the sky and the clouds
To the smell of ambrosia
like their wee kinfolk, in fields of timothy and clover
Children and trees know nothing of guile
Lies, treachery, deceit
The common, the elite
And yet all the while
They grow
With the approach of Fall winds, the trees sway and quiver
Immodestly dropping more leaves with each shiver and
a blanket of yellow, a patchwork of gold
Shielding the earth from winter’s coming cold
Settles silently,
Yet relentlessly
Shyly, yet bold
Through the winds of winter
Through the ice and the snow
They exist, they persist
They resist, they insist
That they grow
They grow
They awaken like children to springs fresh breath
Limbs green, supple and new
Buds swelling, birds dwelling, life is refreshed
Mother natures, spring time brew
Invigorating
Intoxicating and
Exhilarating too
Children and trees rush toward summer with glee and
Are dressed in new raiment to suit
The trees clad in green, the child’s green knees
New seeds in the ground taking root
Squirrels scratch the bark
The sparrow, the lark
They grow
The young, in nests, creation reborn
New life, new presence on earth
From womb, from eggs, new life is formed
The world as always gives birth
As it was
As it is
As it always will be
They will never cease
To grow.
poem by David Whalen
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Too Long In Exile
Too long in exile
Too long not singing my song
Too long in exile
Too long like a rolling stone
Too long in exile
Too long in exile
Baby those people just aint, just aint your friends
Too long in exile my friend
You can never go home again
Well that isolated feeling
Drives you so close up against the wall
Till you feel like you cant go on
Youve been in the same place for too long
Too long in exile
Baby you can never go back home
Too long in exile
Anyway you want
Oh that isolated feeling
Drives you up against, up against the wall
cos youve been on the mainland baby
Been on the mainland, cominon strong
Too long in exile
Too long people keep hanging on
Too long in exile
Too long like a rolling stone
And the wheeling and the dealing
All takes up too much time
Check your better self baby
Youd better satisfy, satisfy your mind
Too long in exile
Too long youve been grinding at the mill
Too long in exile
Man, Ive really just had my fill
Too long in exile
You can never go back home again
Too long in exile
Youre about to drive me just insane
Too long in exile, been too long in exile
Just like james joyce, baby
Too long in exile
Just like samuel beckett baby
Too long in exile
Just like oscar wilde
Too long in exile
Just like george best, baby
Too long in exile
Just like alex higgins, baby
Too long in exile
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary's Boy Child
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
Long time ago in Bethlehem, so the Holy Bible said,
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
While shepherds watch their flocks by night,
they see a bright new shining star,
they hear a choir sing a song, the music seemed to come from afar.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
For a moment the world was aglow, all the bells rang out
there were tears of joy and laughter, people shouted
"let everyone know, there is hope for all to find peace".
Now Joseph and his wife, Mary, came to Bethlehem that night,
they found no place to bear her child, not a single room was in sight.
And then they found a little nook in a stable all forlorn,
and in a manger cold and dark, Mary's little boy was born.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
Oh a moment still worth was a glow, all the bells rang out
there were tears of joy and laughter, people shouted
"let everyone know, there is hope for all to find peace".
Oh My Lord
Oh my Lord
You sent your son to save us
Oh my Lord
Your very self you gave us
Oh my Lord
That sin may not enslave us
And love may reign once more
Oh my Lord
when in the crib they found him
Oh my Lord
A golden halo crowned him
Oh my Lord
They gathered all around him
To see him and adore
(This day will live forever)
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
They had become to doubt you
Oh my Lord (He is the truth forever)
What did they know about you
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
But they were lost without you
They needed you so bad (His light is shining on us)
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
with the child's adoration
Oh my lord (He is a personation)
There came great jubilation
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
And full of admiration
They realized what they had (until the sun falls from the sky)
Oh my Lord (Oh praise the Lord)
You sent your son to save us
Oh my Lord (This day will live forever)
Your very self you gave us
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
That sin may not enslave us
And love may reign once more
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The World’s Lover
My eyes are full of lonely mirth:
Reeling with want and worn with scars,
For pride of every stone on earth,
I shake my spear at all the stars.
A live bat beats my crest above,
Lean foxes nose where I have trod,
And on my naked face the love
Which is the loneliness of God.
Outlawed: since that great day gone by--
When before prince and pope and queen
I stood and spoke a blasphemy--
'Behold the summer leaves are green.'
They cursed me: what was that to me
Who in that summer darkness furled,
With but an owl and snail to see,
Had blessed and conquered all the world?
They bound me to the scourging-stake,
They laid their whips of thorn on me;
I wept to see the green rods break,
Though blood be beautiful to see.
Beneath the gallows' foot abhorred
The crowds cry 'Crucify!' and 'Kill!'
Higher the priests sing, 'Praise the Lord,
The warlock dies'; and higher still
Shall heaven and earth hear one cry sent
Even from the hideous gibbet height,
'Praise to the Lord Omnipotent,
The vultures have a feast to-night.'
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Paraphrase Of Psalm: CXLVIII
Praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the Lord from the heavens: praise him in the heights.
PRAISE ye the Lord! on every height
Songs to his glory raise!
Ye angel-hosts, ye stars of light,
Join in immortal praise!
Oh! heavens of heavens! let praise far-swelling
From all your orbs be sent!
Join in the strain, ye waters, dwelling
Above the firmament!
For His the word which gave you birth,
And majesty, and might;
Praise to the Highest from the earth,
And let the deeps unite!
Oh! fire and vapor, hail and snow,
Ye servants of His will!
Oh! stormy winds, that only blow
His mandates to fulfil;
Mountains and rocks, to heaven that rise;
Fair cedars of the wood;
Creatures of life, that wing the skies,
Or track the plains for food;
Judges of nations! kings, whose hand
Waves the proud sceptre high!
Oh! youths and virgins of the land,
Oh! age and infancy!
Praise ye His name, to whom alone
All homage should be given;
Whose glory, from th' eternal throne
Spreads wide o'er earth and heaven!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Psalm 150
Praise the Lord of the morning
When the sun rises from its sleep
Praise the Lord for His excellent greatness
For His beauty makes me weep
Praise the Lord when the darkness falls
And the moon rises high above
Praise the Lord for His majestic glory
And His everlasting love
Praise the Lord in the winter
When the snow falls on the ground
Praise the Lord for His glorious presence
When we stand upon holy ground
Praise the Lord of the summer
When the days are warm and long
Praise the Lord for His magnificent splendor
And the saints shall sing a new song
Praise the Lord of the springtime
When the blossoms on the tree
Praise the Lord for His holiness
And for the Blood that set us free
Praise the Lord of the Autumn
When the leaves fall to the ground
Praise the Lord for His faithfulness
And that His grace abounds
Praise the Lord when your happy
And there's a smile upon your face
Praise the Lord for His mercy
And for His saving grace
Praise the Lord when you're in despair
And your pierced by a fiery dart
Praise the Lord for HIs loving kindness
That restores your broken heart
Praise the Lord with your last breath
As you lie upon your bed
Praise the Lord for His promises
To raise you from the dead
Praise the Lord for all eternity
As you gather around His throne
Praise the Lord for His incredible beauty
As you worship Him alone
Let trumpet, harp and timbrel praise
And dance before the King
Let all with breath praise the Lord
And with their voices sing
Hallelujah to the King of Kings
We worship and bow down
We sing to you forever more
And we will crown Him with many crowns
poem by Frank McEleny
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Elemental Dressings
All is one within my heart
My heart is one in me
All is one within my heart
Which allows me truth to see.
Fields of green surround my soul
Fields of green they make me whole
A concept lost eternity
A concept forever young to me
A void of blue engulfs my soul
Leaves me drunk within the bowl
A flavour of eternity
Reveals to me identity
Curious of the falling night
Lost within the calling light
A flavour of eternity
Incites my curiosity
Still all is one within my form
Peace before the foaming storm
All is falling endlessly
Within a heart of boundless purity.
Ah! Sweet ecstasy.
Virgin souls of azure wings
Sing the songs that angels sing
To pacify the soul
To make creation whole
Within the moment forever unwinding.
Here we are the wind of night
Here we are the flame of light
Here we are the earths allure
Here we are the waters pure.
Endless
Boundless
Eternal
E lemental dressings.
poem by David Lacey
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The Other Side Of Life
(alan obryant)
Praise God I feel like singing
Im on the other side of life now
All my days of sorrow
And tears for my loved ones
I wish I could tell them the door that I feel
Though my body is weary
My soul is uplifted
My sins are forgiven and my jesus is real
Praise God I feel like singing
Im on the other side of life now
Though my eyes are dim
I see heaven clearly
Though my voice grows feeble I sing just the same
In my heart theres a song
As I see the gates open
Ill sing forever my joyous refrain
Praise God I feel like singing
Im on the other side of life now
Praise God I feel like singing
Im on the other side of life now
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary’s Day (Feast of BVM assumed into heaven)
The mother of Jesus –Mary,
The anguished heart at Calvary;
The figurine with the rosary,
Is live at God’s own sanctuary!
‘Hail Mary, full of grace is live,
In body, soul assumed by God! ’
Like Christ, death could not her deprive
Of victory, glory, like her Lord.
The Immaculate Conception had
Become the handmaid of the Lord;
And in her sacred womb, the Word
Dwelt, receiving flesh, and was clad.
In Mary, heaven and earth had met:
The glorious Son Of God was born;
Her obeisance to God had set
Satan’s defeat, and newer dawn.
The lady clad in sun as gown,
And stars upon her head as crown,
And moon beneath her feet to stand,
Reached heaven with angelic band.
God raised the sinless virgin bride
To be Queen of Heaven, beside
The Lamb of God, who lives and reigns
In endless glory that ne’er wanes.
All angels, saints pay homage then,
To Mary Blessed, Queen of Heaven;
All righteous souls, She longs to see –
Humanity in Eternity.
Dedicated to the BVM on her ‘Feast of Assumption’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-08-2010
poem by John Celes
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The Earth, Late Chok'd with Showers
The earth, late chok'd with showers,
Is now array'd in green,
Her bosom springs with flowers,
The air dissolves her teen;
The heavens laugh at her glory,
Yet bide I sad and sorry.
The woods are deck'd with leaves,
And trees are clothed gay,
And Flora crown'd with sheaves,
With oaken boughs doth play;
Where I am clad in black,
The token of my wrack.
The birds upon the trees
Do sing with pleasant voices,
And chant in their degrees
Their loves and lucky choices;
When I, whilst they are singing,
With sighs mine arms am wringing.
The thrushes seek the shade,
And I my fatal grave;
Their flight to heaven is made,
My walk on earth I have;
They freely, I thrall; they jolly,
I sad and pensive wholly.
poem by Thomas Lodge
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The creation
The stars started glittering
at His supreme command,
and the wind from His mouth
swept over the deep dark void
and light came from the sun
as His mighty hand
placed sun and moon
in their place in space
and their orbits
started to mark tides,
seasons and time.
The great Creator spoke
and the waters and sky
was shaken into place
and the dry earth appeared
following His divine behest.
The earth dressed at His request
with vegetation, living creatures
of every kind unfolded
to make a place for man.
He created man by His own hands
from the dust
shaping and forming him
into His own image
and with a smile
He breathed live into his nostrils
and man became a living being
and I heard voices
praising the living God,
voices in heaven and on earth,
singing their joy of Him.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ode. Written On The Blank Page Before Beaumont And Fletcher's Tragi-Comedy 'The Fair Maid Of The Inn
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Doubled-lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wondrous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease
Seated on Elysian lawns
Browsed by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.
Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!
poem by John Keats
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Please Send Me Someone (Anselmo's Song)
Some people said, if I could only care for you
Some people said, he will never love again
Some people said, you can see it in his eyes
He keeps it all inside and yet . . . .
Some people say, in time, we all teach ourselves to live this way
And for a thousand days, I was lost
I thought never to be found,
Underground
And don't you think I'm ready now?
So please send me someone to love . . .
Please send me someone, someone to love
As much as I loved you
(The way I loved you, darlin')
Please, please send me someone, someone to love
Please send me someone
Any time, any day, any time, any day now
Any time any day, any time, any day now
Please, please send me someone
Just to hold me now that you're gone
Some people say, "I hope you know I'm there for you"
Some of the people said - nothing,
And nothing was just fine
(You know how I get sometimes . . .)
And for a thousand days, I was lost
I said, "Heaven knows I'm ready to be found",
Underground
But I think I'm ready now
So please send me someone to love
Please send me someone, someone to love
As much as I loved you
Please, please send me someone, someone to love
Please send me someone
Please send me someone
Any time any day any time any day now
Any time any day any time any day now
Please, please send me someone
So say that you will, because the nights are long
Without our song to sing
Just search the clouds until . . . until
So say that you will
Show me right from wrong,
Without our song to sing
Just search the clouds until . . . until
And Darlin' darlin' though I can't replace you, there's a-ac
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Double lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wound'rous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease.
Seated on Elysian lawns
Brows'd by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.
Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!
poem by John Keats
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I'm a singing rainbow
When my eyes are blue
I’m a sky-spelled beam of Heaven
Singing icons of beauty
Brown
I’m an autumn singing
Falls of leaves to the ground
Yellow
I’m millions of suns
Singing rays of warmth
Green
I’m a throbbing rainforest
Singing fibers of creation
Violet
I’m a tiny flower singing
Strength of growth
Rad
I’m a blood-spelled shade of Light
Singing peace of darkness
When my eyes are empty
I’m a singing rainbow
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Hymn, Sung At Christmas By The Scholars Of St. Helena’s Island, S.C.
OH, none in all the world before
Were ever glad as we!
We're free on Carolina's shore,
We're all at home and free.
Thou Friend and Helper of the poor,
Who suffered for our sake,
To open every prison door,
And every yoke to break!
Bend low Thy pitying face and mild,
And help us sing and pray;
The hand that blessed the little child,
Upon our foreheads lay.
We hear no more the driver's horn,
No more the whip we fear,
This holy day that saw Thee born
Was never half so dear.
The very oaks are greener clad,
The waters brighter smile;
Oh, never shone a day so glad
On sweet St. Helen's Isle.
We praise Thee in our songs to-day,
To Thee in prayer we call,
Make swift the feet and straight the way
Of freedom unto all.
Come once again, O blessed Lord!
Come walking on the sea!
And let the mainlands hear the word
That sets the islands free!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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