I Am Weeping So!
Lying under the violin tree,
I hear the song of sorrow.
And wait for a better and
Happier good morrow!
I get the smell of the burning heart,
I feel getting away far, and far…
Where there is no, painful tune,
Will be chasing me ever!
You know, how blessed am I with,
My joyful home and hearth!
Still, I lack the world for all,
And a peaceful good earth….
The leaves of the tree fall,
Upon me, I can not count,
How many they could be in all!
I'm lying there on leaves' mount.
Who plays his finger on my
Sad full heart, I don't even know!
The grief is shedding,
Tear on me, I'm weeping so!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Related quotes
Lying Under A Leafless Tree....
Lying under a leafless tree,
I hear the song of sorrow.
And wait for a better and
Happier good morrow!
I get the smell of the burning heart,
I feel getting away far, and far…
Where there is no, painful tune,
Will be chasing me ever!
You know, how blessed am I with,
My joyful home and hearth!
Still, I lack the world for all,
And a peaceful good earth….
The fallen leaves has made a wall,
Upon me, I can not count,
How many they are in number
I lie there on leaves' mount.
Who plays his finger upon my violin?
I do not even know….
The grief is shedding,
Tear on me, I'm weeping so!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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I'm Just An Ordinary Tree
My existence
start from a little piece of seed...
First, I was bury on the ground...
Then, I showed my two cute leaves up in to world...
But it didn't end just like that...
I grow... more and more...
With love, hope and care,
I became a tree...
Tree with many leaves,
if you need some shady circumstance...
Tree with a strong wood,
if you need me to make a good wardrobe...
Tree with a tight root,
if you want to make a solid foundation...
Tree with a sincerely pray,
if you need a support...
Tree with an everlasting presence,
if you need a friend beside you forever...
Tree with a dry branch,
if you want to share your tears...
Tree with a pure dew,
if you feel thirsty...
Tree with a warm wind,
if you get cold and alone...
Tree with a full color's flowers,
if you feel your life so black and white...
Tree with many hopes,
if you lost your dreams away...
But... after all,
I'm just an ordinary Tree...
By: Tree
22 May 2007,7: 02 PM
The heart of a tree
With branches reaching out as if for a embrace
The tree may bow to nature with grace.
He stands alone when the wind blows strong.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
In winter's cold chill, You can see the tree stand still.
Leaves are gone but the tree stands strong.
Until winter turns into spring and the birds begin to sing.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
Through storms and the wind. Bowing with a graceful bend,
Until the sun shines again, still standing at the end,
The tree is like a true friend.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eye can't see,
Like the heart of a tree.
The old Tree's secrets
How many lovers sat together under the old tree?
If only the tree could speak.
The stories would be of weary travelers
finding a place of peace, and dreams in their sleep.
Stolen moments of lovers, perhaps a sweet caress.
A young man with a ring, a young girl said yes.
Tree I only imagine, I enjoy the guess.
Gentle breezes that lifted the leaves
to let them gently fall to earth.
Misting rain to meet the tree's thirst,
Perhaps two trees inter-twined are
Two lovers that were curst.
poem by Judy Arline Puckett
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The Old Peach Tree
Under the old peach tree
Hearing the buzz of bees
Looking up at pink blossoms so sweet
Watching pink petals fall at my feet
Under the old peach tree almost fallen down
I can hear every sound as the sun goes down
I hear somewhere the song of a mocking bird
The sweetest song I ever heard
As I lean against the old peach tree
I think of things that used to be
This old tree brings me back to my childhood
And the many peaches I ate that were so good
Old peach tree I wish you could talk
Whisper to me some of your thoughts
But instead you fill my heart with your beauty
As I smell the perfume of your blossoms so fruity
I wonder how much longer you'll be here.
How much longer my heart you'll cheer
I hope to lean against you many a spring
And feel the peace that you bring.
poem by Grace Riffle
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Banyan Tree
Banyan tree, banyan tree
that century old banyan tree
standing grandeurly for us to see
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Cool breeze passing through
seeking blessings of banyan tree
branches shaking in approval
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Glassy green with majestic trunk
touching the earth, not breaking free
shelter home for different birds
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Yellowish streaks, some with reddish tinge
welcome every season with a glee
symbol of eternal life
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Shedding leaves, like tears falling
a grandfather lamenting on its knees
new plants cuddling around
banyan tree, banyan tree.
Lord Buddha became its buddy
meditation was the only key
peace you get underneath
that is why it is banyan tree.
Banyan tree, banyan tree
wish fullfilling, it is banyan tree
just pray here and let you see
Banyan tree, banyan tree.
A life giver and just for free
Banyan is my national pride
preserve these at any cost
don't commit a homicide?
God blessed us with banyan tree
heat absorbing banyan tree
has healing powers this banyan tree
banyan tree, banyan tree.
---- X -----
copyright/Children of Lost God/Tribhawan Kaul
All rights reserved
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Leaves Compared with Flowers
A tree's leaves may be ever so good,
So may its bar, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It never will show much flower or fruit.
But I may be one who does not care
Ever to have tree bloom or bear.
Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,
Leaves and bark may be tree enough.
Some giant trees have bloom so small
They might as well have none at all.
Late in life I have come on fern.
Now lichens are due to have their turn.
I bade men tell me which in brief,
Which is fairer, flower or leaf.
They did not have the wit to say,
Leaves by night and flowers by day.
Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,
To lean against and hear in the dark.
Petals I may have once pursued.
Leaves are all my darker mood.
poem by Robert Frost
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The computer tree- algorithm (Sextuple Crystalline Poetry)
A free tree is never rooted
Infinite complete binary tree
A finger tree has internal nodes
Each one in this tree has child nodes
And their connection is a walk
Parents and children walking the tree
Nodes without children are called leaves
While roots are leaves for the finger trees
Very intelligent words tree
Trees-no one-to-one correspondence
Adaptive merging operation
Implementing finger searching trees.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Carry On The Spark In Your Heart
there will be lots of dry leaves to fall
from a tree to produce a fruit
more leaves to be blown by the wind
to make that flower with a sweet scent
and bright color
there will be thorns and worms and
sickening barks
there will even be deaths of
some trees not just
the shedding of leaves
but what matters most
is for you to carry on
with the mission
to bloom
do not let that spark die
that fire that keeps burning in your heart
make it live
carry on carry on
it does not just take a blink of an eye
to make this
beautiful universe
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Indestructible Tree.
Rugged desert_
an unbriddled melancholy wind blows
Scattering sparks of fire,
There is no tree in Shatil Arab,
only the simoom’s voice moans all around.
In the palace of the Sheikh, though,
a few khayyamesque gardens exist
on whose blue carpets you’ll find
the finest wine of the world
and an enamoured saki with her lovely eyes.
Oblivious of his tent and the far away horizon’s call
the intrepid Bedouin has taken refuge
in the soft white abode of sex
in the Sheikh’s khayyamesque gardens.
Outside all trees have been singed by fire,
not even a cactus grows
in the barren land.
And yet an indestructible tree stands there
in the bronze-hot red soil of burning Palestine,
a miracle-tree with soft and green and serene
and large leaves.
All the good winds of the world
blow on that tree,
all the birds of the world sing there
with the tune of the seven seas on their lips.
In the murmuring leaves of this tree
only one tune plays
only one symphony,
only one sacred hymn,
only the undying joy
of men gathered on a temporary sojourn
expressed in their cry;
Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!
Because of this the dark hand of the demon
rises from the setting sun
bent on destroying that tree.
They wont let a single tree live
in the third world.
And so, the arrogant demon blasts
the heart of this tree into shreds.
Missile after missile from their F16 military planes
hit the trunk of this tree
tearing it asunder,
and yet this tree does not die.
Hundreds and hundreds of Palestinians
pour on it their holy and fertile blood
in a bid to keep it alive.
The demon’s dark hands turn red
with the blood of the heroic martyrs.
Shunts of condemnation fill the air.
And their angry planes return to camp
after the onslaught is over.
But the indestructible tree still stands
and keep awake.
Breathing in the unlimited cool breeze of the sea
the tender young leaves of the indestructible tree
recites in silence the sacred incantation
of Freedom.
This indestructible tree will not die, never ever.
This indestructible tree cannot die.
-
poem by Shafiqul Islam
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The Mango Tree In My Backyard
the mango tree in my backyard,
stand majestic and strong,
the first morning rays,
falling thro the leaves,
like myraid colorful beans, ,
chirping of bird is like melodious song,
parrat myna bulbul and so,
make upteem sounds,
squirrel jumping up and down,
the water dripping leaves inrain,
flutter of leaves while the breeze blow,
summer sun glows like orange ball,
but the cool breeze of the tree gives a relief,
the mango tree saw us grow,
know our grief and all our sorrow,
the majestic tree gave us support and peace,
a true companion of our life indeed.
.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
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When leaves fall in autumn
When leaves fall in autumn, lying all over the place
with the smell of decline penetrating,
in colours of yellow, brown and gold
nature is caught in a circle
in which life and death is present,
the dead leaves becomes the fertilizer
for new life sprouting from seeds
when the earth again brings forth life
and continuously this cycle proceeds
until trees are full of flowers, later full of fruit.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Algorithm of a tree (Sextuple Crystalline Poetry)
(A two line image poem, often with a title, in which euphony is the key factor.
Each line may have 8 or 9 syllables to make a total of seventeen)
A free tree is never rooted,
Infinite complete binary tree.
A finger tree has internal nodes and
Each one in this tree has child nodes.
And their connection is a walk,
Parents and children walking the tree.
Nodes without children are called leaves,
While roots are leaves for the finger trees.
Very intelligent are the words tree,
Trees-no one-to-one correspondence,
Adaptive merging operation,
Implementing finger search trees.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The Fountain of Tears
If you go over desert and mountain,
Far into the country of Sorrow,
To-day and to-night and to-morrow,
And maybe for months and for years;
You shall come with a heart that is bursting
For trouble and toiling and thirsting,
You shall certainly come to the fountain
At length,—to the Fountain of Tears.
Very peaceful the place is, and solely
For piteous lamenting and sighing,
And those who come living or dying
Alike from their hopes and their fears;
Full of cypress-like shadows the place is,
And statues that cover their faces:
But out of the gloom springs the holy
And beautiful Fountain of Tears.
And it flows and it flows with a motion
So gentle and lovely and listless,
And murmurs a tune so resistless
To him who hath suffer'd and hears—
You shall surely—without a word spoken,
Kneel down there and know your heart broken,
And yield to the long-curb'd emotion
That day by the Fountain of Tears.
For it grows and it grows, as though leaping
Up higher the more one is thinking;
And ever its tunes go on sinking
More poignantly into the ears:
Yea, so blessèd and good seems that fountain,
Reach'd after dry desert and mountain,
You shall fall down at length in your weeping
And bathe your sad face in the tears.
Then alas! while you lie there a season
And sob between living and dying,
And give up the land you were trying
To find 'mid your hopes and your fears;
—O the world shall come up and pass o'er you,
Strong men shall not stay to care for you,
Nor wonder indeed for what reason
Your way should seem harder than theirs.
But perhaps, while you lie, never lifting
Your cheek from the wet leaves it presses,
Nor caring to raise your wet tresses
And look how the cold world appears—
O perhaps the mere silences round you—
All things in that place Grief hath found you—
Yea, e'en to the clouds o'er you drifting,
May soothe you somewhat through your tears.
You may feel, when a falling leaf brushes
Your face, as though some one had kiss'd you,
Or think at least some one who miss'd you
Had sent you a thought,—if that cheers;
Or a bird's little song, faint and broken,
May pass for a tender word spoken:
—Enough, while around you there rushes
That life-drowning torrent of tears.
And the tears shall flow faster and faster,
Brim over and baffle resistance,
And roll down blear'd roads to each distance
Of past desolation and years;
Till they cover the place of each sorrow,
And leave you no past and no morrow:
For what man is able to master
And stem the great Fountain of Tears?
But the floods and the tears meet and gather;
The sound of them all grows like thunder:
—O into what bosom, I wonder,
Is pour'd the whole sorrow of years?
For Eternity only seems keeping
Account of the great human weeping:
May God, then, the Maker and Father—
May He find a place for the tears!
poem by Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy
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The Spice-Tree
This is the song
The spice-tree sings:
"Hunger and fire,
Hunger and fire,
Sky-born Beauty—
Spice of desire,"
Under the spice-tree
Watch and wait,
Burning maidens
And lads that mate.
The spice-tree spreads
And its boughs come down
Shadowing village and farm and town.
And none can see
But the pure of heart
The great green leaves
And the boughs descending,
And hear the song that is never ending.
The deep roots whisper,
The branches say:—
"Love to-morrow,
And love to-day,
And till Heaven's day,
And till Heaven's day."
The moon is a bird's nest in its branches,
The moon is hung in its topmost spaces.
And there, to-night, two doves play house
While lovers watch with uplifted faces.
Two doves go home
To their nest, the moon.
It is woven of twigs of broken light,
With threads of scarlet and threads of gray
And a lining of down for silk delight.
To their Eden, the moon, fly home our doves,
Up through the boughs of the great spice-tree;—
And one is the kiss I took from you,
And one is the kiss you gave to me.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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The Tree Is Shedding Off Its Leaves
do not be surprised
to see this tree shedding off leaves
it is the season
for it to become a skeleton
it is like
that
giving off everything
what it gained
from the soil which gives it life
the tree is returning
heaps and heaps of leaves
for the wind
to blow and scatter to the earth
until what is left
is the bareness of it all
the one where we are now
a destiny into
emptiness
the glory of nothing
the splendor of being nothing at all
welcome! welcome!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lyin' To Yourself
You tell me lies that you believe
You say its the real thing
I can see how you've deceived
I know what's happening
And seeing is believing 'til you find out that you're blind
You're Lying To Yourself (Lying To Yourself)
You're Lying To Yourself (Lying To Yourself)
Wake up, shake up, turn around
I'll give it to you straight
It's been too long, it's past a joke
Something I can't take
The cost is due, now tell me money ain't the means [to me it sounds like
"meaning"]
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
Lying To Yourself again, you're Lying to Yourself again
Lying To Yourself again, you're Lying To Yourself again
Lying in the morning
I'll kiss you goodbye
You won't regret a part of this
And neither will I
Revealing hearts with a common need play their hands
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
You're Lying To Yourself
(Lying To Yourself)
NOTE: This song is a B-side to the Alpha album single "The Smile Has Left
Your Eyes
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn
You called up late
Said you wanted to talk
I was afraid
Cause you spoke so softly
You took my hand
Slowly started to cry
I can't understand
Why our season went by
Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough
You turned away
Slowly opened the door
Said you could not stay
You couldn't take it no more
It started to rain
Tears kept falling from the sky
It did not stop the pain
It did not stop the pain
Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough
Now I fall on the ground
It did not stop the pain
It did not stop the pain
Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough
Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough
Now I fall on the ground
Now I fall on the ground
It did not stop the pain
It did not stop the pain
Why do leaves fall down from the sky
Is the tree not strong enough
song performed by by Green Lizard from Identity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unspoken Heart Song
Subtle notes fly upon the breeze, notes coming from a guitar of the night.
The guitar plays sweetly for its master, for its gentle master.
The master is a young man, trying to find himself.
A young man with eyes full of care, behind these fair eyes a heart full of love.
You can hear his heart’s song on the breeze, for he plays from his heart.
His eyes meet mine, and I cannot help but feel at peace, the song makes my heart hum with delight.
I can feel the love held inside him, even though he does not play for me.
He is playing the same song that plays in the heart of his darling; his song is calling to her.
“Come home, come home to me darling. I am calling you, can’t you hear me? ”
Is the unspoken song on the breeze.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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The Loving Tree
Three women walked upon a road,
And the first said airily,
“Of all the trees in all the world
Which is the loving tree?”
The second said, “My eyes have seen
No tree that is not fair;
But the Orange tree is the sweetest tree,
The loving blood is there.”
And the third said, “In the green time
I knew a loving tree
That gave a drink of the blood-red milk,
It was the Mulberry.”
Then the first one said, “Of all the trees
No sweetest can I name;
Ask her who yonder slowly comes—
That woman lean and lame.”
Grief like a hideous suckling hung
Along her hollow breast,
Pain was upon her as she walked,
And as she stooped to rest.
“Why will you question so?” she said,
“Is it to mock at me?
For how should I, who walk in Hell,
Know of a loving tree?
“My eyes are not as woman's eyes,
They hope not east or west:
Dull Famine my bed-mate is,
And Loneliness my guest.
“ 'Tis not the most delicious flower
That leaves the scent of Spring,
Nor is it yet the brightest bird
That loads his heart to sing.
“A tree may dance in the white weather
Or dream in a blue gown,
A tree may sing as a sweetheart
To bid the stars come down:
“Some trees are slim and lovable
And some are sleek and strong,
But the tree that has the cripple's heart
Will know the cripple's song.
“The sweetest death is the red death
That comes up nakedly,
And the tree that has the foiled heart
It is the loving tree.
“While ever lip shall seek for lip,
While ever light shall fall,
The tree that has the ruined heart
Is tenderest of all.
“Oh, ye may have your men to kiss,
And children warm to hold,
But the heart that had the hottest love
Was never yet consoled.”
The women three walked on their way,
Their shamed eyes could see
How well the tree with the foiled heart
Is still the loving tree.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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Little Henry
Air -- "Minnie Lee"
Oh! come listen to my story
Of a little infant child --
His spirit is in glory --
It has left us for a while.
Death has robbed us of our Henry,
He is with our Savior now,
Where there is no pain or sorrow
Comes to cloud his little brow.
CHORUS:
God has took their little treasure,
And his name I'll tell you now,
He has gone from earth forever,
Their little Charles Henry House.
His cheeks were red as roses,
And his eyes were black as coals,
His little lips were red as rubies,
And his little hair it curled.
Oh, they called him little Charley,
He was full of joyful mirth --
Now his little form is lying
'Neath the cold and silent earth.
It was the eleventh of December,
On a cold and windy day,
Just at the close of evening,
When the sunlight fades away;
Little Henry he was dying,
In his little crib he lay,
With soft winds round him sighing
From the morn till close of day.
Parents, brothers, sisters weeping,
For their cup of sorrow's full,
And his little playthings keeping,
That he thought so beautiful --
Tears from parents' eyes were starting
For their little loving one.
Oh! how painful was the parting
From their little infant son.
Oh! how often have they kissed him,
And caressed his little brow --
To his little voice have listened,
But his place is vacant now.
They called him little Charley,
And his loving name they called,
But they could not keep their darling
From the loving Savior's call.
But they must now cease their mourning,
His little soul is at rest,
Where there can no storms of trouble
Roll across his peaceful breast.
Now his little form is sleeping
In the cold and silent tomb,
And his friends are left a weeping,
In his dear and loving home.
It was the eleventh of December,
Eighteen seventy was the year,
Kind friends will all remember --
Silently let fall a tear.
But we must not trouble borrow,
For the God of heaven is just;
No one knows a parent's sorrow,
Till a child some friend have lost.
poem by Julia A Moore
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