A middle class wedding
The bride and the bridegroom exchange the rings
While an invitee comes and introduced himself as 'Muscovite.'
Then the bride's father a Middleman who's never been to a school inquired; 'A strange name.'
'Sorry, I am from Moscow.'
'Oh! That sounds good and we can do cow business.'
Then he replied angrily; ' Yes, you can import cow and export donkeys.'
* I think of damned politics in my tiny island Sri Lanka. Freedom of expression goes for a song nowadays and I heard that innocent journalists are missing again, is this the democrazy?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
A Ring Upon Her Finger
A ring upon her finger,
Walks the bride,
With the bridegroom tall and handsome
At her side.
A veil upon her forehead
Walks the bride,
With the bridegroom proud and merry
At her side.
Fling flowers beneath the footsteps
Of the bride;
Fling flowers before the bridegroom
At her side.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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A Mirage
Were I thy bride,
Then the whole world beside
Were not too wide
To hold my wealth of love -
Were I thy bride!
Upon thy breast
My loving head would rest,
As on her nest
The tender turtle-dove -
Were I thy bride!
This heart of mine
Would be one heart with thine,
And in that shrine
Our happiness would dwell -
Were I thy bride!
And all day long
Our lives should be a song:
No grief, no wrong
Should make my heart rebel -
Were I thy bride!
The silvery flute,
The melancholy lute,
Were night-owl's hoot
To my low-whispered coo -
Were I thy bride!
The skylark's trill
Were but discordance shrill
To the soft thrill
Of wooing as I'd woo -
Were I thy bride!
The rose's sigh
Were as a carrion's cry
To lullaby
Such as I'd sing to thee -
Were I thy bride!
A feather's press
Were leaden heaviness
To my caress.
But then, unhappily,
I'm not thy bride!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Bridegroom
Pity, O Bridegroom,
The perilous joy of the bride!
In the searching lights of her eyes,
In the fugitive flush of her cheeks,
In the fainting pink of her palm,
In the speed-mad pulse of her wrist,
In the throb and flight of her heart,
In the lifting foam of her breasts,
In her pale, excited smile,--
A dim flame, blown in a wind,--
See the perilous happiness,
Hid in the blood of your bride.
Eve alone
Of the generations of women,
Lacked the perilous joy of the bride.
Fully innocent, fully ignorant,
Gurgled her sweet child-laughter.
But to her daughters,
Down to the wayward moderns,
Whispers and echoes what she learned
From giving her secret self,
From giving her red rose heart,
From giving her cream rose breast,
From giving her crystal dreams,--
Dividing her trinity,
Her soul and her flesh and her mind,
With Adam.
So began, O Bridegroom,
The perilous happiness,
A bubble, ready to break,
A sphere made of colors alone,
Your bride with her searching eyes
Holds out to your snatching hands.
poem by Katherine W. McCluskey
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Greek Wedding
Flowers are white
They were everywhere
the bride went
People in white robes stood around
the bride
singing a farewell song
I cried.
The bride then stepped
out towards the alter
with her mother
The father was unfaithful
They didn't mind
The people kept singing
the farewell song
I cried.
(October 9,1997)
poem by Sangnam Nam
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And Her Going Away That Never Comes?
Newly wed bride goes out
Hand in hand with her bridegroom
and the sinful lass who sweats to the manor
since her childhood,
She had a tear in her heart
and she knows her sad fate
That she has to serve them forever
and her going away that never comes
till she gets old?
She thinks of her poor mother & father
Once she served to this manor
Now rest in peace in a faraway tombless graveyard
and the brave father was missing in a rage battlefield?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Lexicon
Import free export free
Free trade
No import no export.
Levy not
Lexicon here
Search the meaning
Find nothing.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Import and Export
Import the things more the country really need
For its economic development
Such as food, raw materials for various industries
Technology, electric power and so on.
Export the things that are surplus and competitive
And whose demand is in the foreign countries.
With a view to boost export
The government should minimize export duty
And encourage the exporters
By reducing tariff on import of associated raw materials.
The government must discourage import of nonessential items
By imposing higher import duty
And encourage production of luxury items in the country.
In the modern world international trade can play a vital role
In the economic development of any country
That’s why the governments must emphasize on it evermore.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Muscoviet Musquito
I must write a letter to you
I must make myself clear
It is spot on time, right on cue
I am a clam, somebody said to me
Its obscene, there must be a motive behind
Its obscure. there must be someone behind
A muscovite mosquito, a muscovite mosquito
A muscovite mosquito, a muscovite mosquito
A vivid image anyway
Someone said, youre a clam,
Consider this !
Mmm, listen oh, listen to me, youre far
A thousand miles away from here
I am here, I am here in this ooze through country
Trampled down by mega people
A dispute will never end
A retrospection ,it sounds obscene
A disconnection,
A final balance sheet for muscovite mosquito
For muscovite mosquito
For muscovite mosquito, it sound obscene
It sound so obscure, for muscovite mosquito
My final balance sheet is gone...... for
Muscovite mosquito, muscovite mosquito
Its spot on time, right on cue
You missed the chance, somebody vexedly said
Its obscene, there must be motives behind
Its obscure, there must be someone behind
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Honey moon Forever
The bell had rang, the bride in cloud nine
Heaven's gate a jar, the bride groom in cloud nine
Sweet is a heart that yearned, a heart that conquered
Life of bliss, the love of sweet heart conquered
Celebration jewel in worth of sunsets wait
Honeymoon a far, an island in Indian ocean all for wait
The bride's eyes sparkled, a step in ferry
Bridegroom in delight sighed, with a step in ferry
Swallows flew and waves called the ferry pulled
In hurricane, ferry with lovers in bottom sea pulled
Breaking news, everybody on board had flown to sky forever
Tears filled cheeks, lovers in honey moon forever.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Lochinvar
O young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
The bride had consented, the gallant came late:
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,
Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers and all:
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,)
"O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"
"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied; --
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide --
And now I am come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."
The bride kiss'd the goblet: the knight took it up,
He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup.
She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, --
"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.
So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a gailiard did grace;
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
And the bride-maidens whisper'd, "'twere better by far
To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."
One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near;
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Although economists have studied the sensitivity of import and export volumes to changes in the exchange rate, there is still much uncertainty about just how much the dollar must change to bring about any given reduction in our trade deficit.
quote by Martin Feldstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Alligator Bride
The clock of my days winds down.
The cat eats sparrows outside my window.
Once, she brought me a small rabbit
which we devoured together, under
the Empire Table
while the men shrieked
repossessing the gold umbrella.
Now the beard on my clock turns white.
My cat stares into dark corners
missing her gold umbrella.
She is in love
with the Alligator Bride.
Ah, the tiny fine white
teeth! The Bride, propped on her tail
in white lace
stares from the holes
of her eyes. Her stuck-open mouth
laughs at minister and people.
On bare new wood
fourteen tomatoes,
a dozen ears of corn,
six bottles of white wine,
a melon,
a cat,
broccoli
and the Alligator Bride.
The color of bubble gum,
the consistency of petroleum jelly,
wickedness oozes
from the palm of my left hand.
My cat licks it.
I watch the Alligator Bride.
Big houses like shabby boulders
hold themselves tight
in gelatin.
I am unable to daydream.
The sky is a gun aimed at me.
I pull the trigger.
The skull of my promises
leans in a black closet, gapes
with its good mouth
for a teat to suck.
A bird flies back and forth
in my house that is covered by gelatin
and the cat leaps at it
missing. Under the Empire Table
the Alligator Bride
lies in her bridal shroud.
My left hand
leaks on the Chinese carpet.
poem by Donald Hall
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The Death-Day Of Korner
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
The youth went down to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.
He went, with his noble heart unworn,
And pure, and high;
An eagle stooping from clouds of morn,
Only to die!
He went with the lyre, whose lofty tone
Beneath his hand
Had thrill'd to the name of his God alone,
And his Father-land.
And with all his glorious feelings yet
In their first glow,
Like a southern stream that no frost hath met
To chain its flow.
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
For him that went to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.
He hath left a voice in his trumpet-lays
To turn the flight,
And a guiding spirit for after days,
Like a watch-fire's light.
And a grief in his father's soul to rest,
Midst all high thought;
And a memory unto his mother's breast,
With healing fraught.
And a name and fame above the blight
Of earthly breath,
Beautiful beautiful and bright,
In life and death!
A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
For him that went to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Is Marriage A Drama?
In the name of culture drama is played to conduct marriage!
Bridegroom embraces priesthood and goes on pilgrimage;
Bride’s father stops and offers him his daughter for marriage!
He ties a yellow thread round her neck with three knots
Pledging security to parents, bride and children before fire
And the married couple lives together till the end of time!
For this event the bride waits for months together in suspense!
In life too if one difficulty is over it’s forgotten in happiness
Not knowing that another difficulty is waiting to be faced soon!
Life goes on with crises and solutions till salvation is attained!
Difficulties, suspenses and solutions at last are quite common;
Despite crises living together by God’s grace is bliss here!
Dramatic cultural life makes one bear joy and sorrow same way
And surmount ocean of life like the ship moves on up and down!
poem by Ramesh T A
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An Epithalamium
Fragments 91, 92, 99, 106, 104, 103, 100, 105, 101, 102, 96, 109, 93, 94, 97, 95, and 133 combined.
Raise high the beams of the raftered hall,
(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)
Ye builders, of the bridal-dwelling!
(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)
Lo, the bridegroom comes, as the War-god tall —
(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)
Now nay — yet our tallest in stature excelling;
(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)
For stately he towers above all the throng
As the Lesbian singer towers among
All alien poets, a prince of song.
O happy bridegroom! it cometh to-day,
The bridal thine heart hith longed for aye!
At last shall she be thine own, the maid
For whom thou hast sighed, for whom thou hast prayed.
For none other maiden beneath the skies,
O bridegroom, was like unto her in thine eyes.
Whereunto may I liken thee, bridegroom dear?
To a green vine-shoot in the spring of the year.
Now, now let the bridegroom rejoice, for the bride
Into the hall cometh joyful-eyed.
Ethereal-pale is her lovely face.
Hail, bridegroom! Hail, bride, queenly in grace!
How goodly to see thy lord stands there!
And his goodness will keep him for thee ever fair.
Ah, doth she, ah doth she regretfully brood? —
Does her heart still yearn after maidenhood?
Nay, not in this hour she cries:
'Maidenhood, maidenhood, whither away
Forsaking me?'
While maidenhood replies:
'Not again unto thee shall I come for aye,
Not again unto thee!'
No more, no more doth she chant
Proud young virginity's vaunt:
'As the sweet-apple flames on the tip of a spray against the sky,
At its uttermost point, which the gleaners forgat, and passed it by —
O nay, they forgat it not, but they could not attain so high.'
But she thinks of the fate, an evil thing,
That the years fast-fleeting to fair maids bring.
When the roses are faded, the gold turns grey.
And the smoothness is furrowed, as singeth the lay —
'As the hyacinth-flower on the mountain-side that the shepherds tread
Underfoot, and low on the earth its bloom dark-splendid is shed.'
Lo, her hand into thine hath her father given.
And thou leadest her home 'neath the Star of Even;
To thy portal the bridal-train draws near.
And the Chant Processional rings out clear:
'Hail, Hesper, who bringest home all
That radiant Dawn scattered wide,
Bringest back unto fold and stall
The sheep and the goat, and thy call
Brings the child to the mother's side.
Let the rose-ringed Star of the Evenfall
Usher thee on, love's willing thrall,
Bride, garden of loves like roses blowing.
Bride, loveliest image of Paphos' Queen!
So pass to the bride-bower, pass within
To the nuptial couch, for the sweet bestowing
On the bridegroom, whose measure is overflowing.
Of the bliss, wherein honoured is Hera: 'tis owned
Of the Marriage-goddess, the silver-throned.'
I Remember
It was my bridal night I remember,
An old man of seventy-three
I lay with my young bride in my arms,
A girl with t.b.
It was wartime, and overhead
The Germans were making a particularly heavy raid on Hampstead.
Harry, do they ever collide?
I do not think it has ever happened,
Oh my bride, my bride.
poem by Stevie Smith
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Recruiting Agency
I met her the directress Elsie early in the morning.
'Amigo! Long time no see and where were you? '
'Went to the Moon' I said angrily.
'That sounds good and there are some vacancies in the hell
And they require some moon experiences.'
'Please send me there as here they never give me a job.' I begged
'Get ready it takes less than a week to process the Visa.'
'I have a problem about the language.'
'Not to worry and where are you from? '
'Sri Lanka.'
'Then it's O.K. there are lot of your old politicians work there voluntarily
And you are familiar with the dialect, one thing you have to get the vaccination anti-rabies before mingling.'
I took the yellow card and walked towards the Health Department.
And I found myself in the toilet after the strange dream.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My Bride And God
LO AND BEHOLD!
I AM GRIEVED AND AFFLICTED,
WOE IS ME FOR MY LOVE'S SAKE,
MY WOE IS MY BRIDE!
LO AND BEHOLD,
MY BRIDE SERVES GOD,
AND GOD IS MY ENEMY,
CANS'T MY BRIDE THEN BE MY LOVE?
FOR SHE SERVETH A BEING THAT SEEKS TO ENSLAVE ME FOR ETERNITY,
AND MAKE ME A MOCKERY FOR IT'S PLEASURES SAKE,
LO, THUS I HAVE LIVED IN FALSEHOOD WITH AN ENEMY,
LO, MY BRIDE IS THUS MY ENEMY!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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The time
Wedding was over;
Brought home was the bride,
With whom came a maid,
To serve her as an aid.
Days rolled;
As honey, appeared the bride;
As savour, moved about the maid,
As a rule, in a household.
Time lapsed;
The bride shed her charm
And the maid ruled calm
In their wait at the groom.
Event happened;
The groom went blasé
With the honey in use
And the savour was in wait for use.
Fate played;
The bride in the race ran first
But the maid ended first.
The bride was aghast.
It is a game;
The diminutive waxes;
The gigantic wanes
In the field of time.
07.04.97
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The moody Rain Goddess in poor Man's sky
It's a dark feast and stars were hidden purposely
And the Moon on vacation it seems.
The Goddess comes out through the dark clouds,
Just a small drizzle to their innocent hopes.
The poor girl is ready to go out from the ghetto with an unknown bridegroom,
A shooting star has fallen down to their journey as a chief guest.
'A good omen my dear and make a hundred thousand offspring for the next census to get temper with the blunt life.'
The bride's close relative an old Blacksmith said.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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