En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Swansong

A poor ferryman is crossing the quiet river
and suddenly she changed into a whirlpool.
The swing bridge is in full swing
with the east wind
and the fading twilight sky
looks like a watercolor painting.
I can hear the ferryman's whimper
who hides at all.
A dealer, poor girl's money lending uncle
who takes her cunningly to a Manor for housekeeping.
I read the ferryman's teary eyes
where it stuck the hidden words there.
'Be careful my little red riding hood
when sweeping the garden
specially under the thorn-bearing trees
don't be in barefoot.
I am waiting for you my sleeping beauty
and whatsoever I promise you to marry
in the next equinox'.

To the poetess Amanda.Lukas

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Mason's daughter and a Carpenter's son

Each & every muddy brick
And the wooden planks of their house
Whisper about the courageous parents
And the cottage comes up gradually.
The proud sky is bit inquisitive it seems
And the humble river says;
'Do not worry, their innocent roof won't touch and bother you anyhow.'
Big ferries cross the river with huge cranes and building materials
And the proposed 'Toy Factory' build up very soon as per the country bald-headed Mayor's election promise.
The old ferryman sings in a sad voice late at midnight;
'Hey! Dear Sons & Daughters
Definitely you all get jobs
And you meet strange faces with a new busy culture.
But don't change your lifestyle and let them burn your halcyon cottages
Those were built by your poor parents hardly.'

*Certainly the rich stormy winds ruin the bourgeoisie Folklore.
-From the poor ferryman's Scrapbook.-

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The bridge over the river deep

Far away smoke rises from a cigar
And old ferryman waits from dawn to dusk.
But nobody peeps and they use the new bridge secretly.
Once in a blue Moon a poor soul comes to join the ferry
But he crossed only once and never seen him again.
One day he dreamed the old customers in a hurry
And the bridge has collapsed.
But he could not wake up and the ferry drifted away.

*On this mysterious pilgrimage in between the sky and earth, cries and wails of poor pilgrims.But the sky is far away....................................!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A returnee from a concentration camp

I hide my striped uniform as a keepsake
And I talk a little as they snatched my voice.
I came to my village and it's almost changed.
Soon after I crossed the singing river with the old ferryman
I found that she's gone to the town
And a rumor goes around from there she stood on a step of a railroad car,
Then took her somewhere.
Before this concludes I want to add something; They live together happily
And that's my only wish.
Another dramatic change Occurred,
Eager and I were married, her youngest dumb sister on an equinox.
In our honeymoon night I watched the sad expression of her gloomy eyes
after seeing the burnt scars on my back.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The hiding song of river

This destitute soul swims upstream
And the silent riverbed keeps memories of the bygone heroes
Who were defeated by the ruthless current.
The fading ashore like a mirage
And this poor chap almost tired.
'It's a long journey my dear chum
And nobody returns with the trophy.'
An old ferryman's sad voice echoes in a distance.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Swimmer and a Crocodile

He wants to cross the river
But the ferryman is nowhere
The notice says Crocodiles and beware!
Swimmer in a clue.
An old crocodile came
And tears in its eyes.
'I was watching since in the morning
And I am so sorry,
Believe me I am a different one
Always help others
And if you don't mind
I can give you a ride
Before it gets dark.'
'I too scare of darkness
And I love rides but not in a rough weather uncle.'
Swimmer replied.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If somebody knows who takes his last breath?

He will get panic
and no more time to think of loved ones.
Breath fast to gather more air
and he sees the ferryman is waiting afar
to cross the river.
His song echoes; 'my dear you cannot postpone
this journey, get ready soon
and I have to come back for the others'.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The hidden song in the black river

Every year there are about fifty or more victims; They drowned and never returned.
Where you hide them in your precious muddy bottom?
I see the old ferryman and his blind dog cross the river and I wait at the bank to hear more news of the missing souls.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Moon in the lake dances with ripples?

'May the poor find wealth; those weak with sorrow find joy.May the forlorn find new hope, constant happiness and prosperity.May the frightened cease to be afraid, and those bound be free.May the weak find power, and may their hearts join in friendship.'-The Dalai Llama

Young ferryman's straw-house
by the lake
unbolted bamboo door
rattles to the Eastern wind.
He peeped through the broken window
and saw moon dances with ripples in the lake?
His memories dragged to his sad past.
Poor drunkard Tinsmith's beautiful wife and daughter
drowned in this lake on a full moon.
And if that tear dropp hidden in his eye speaks?
Certainly it's deep the tale
Like the haunted lake?

*The barley field's mealy mouthed midwife rumoured around the villagers the deceased were pregnant?

nimal dunuhinga

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Swing Your Love 2 Me

1st verse:
Hey baby boy, ya get down with a girl
That dont appreciate you
What you waiting for
Theres someone standing here
Thatll treat you like a real man
She dont care about you
Cant you understand
You need to take my hand
Holla back
Playa let me know
If you feel the need
Wont you come get with me
She dont have to know
We can creep
And keep it on the low
Or you can
Make me your woman
Boy what you waiting for
Show that girl the door
Chorus:
Swing your love to me
Swing your love to me
When in need (wont you)
Swing your love to me
Swing your love to me
Swing your love to me
Feel the need (wont you)
Swing your love to me
2nd verse:
Hey mistah dont hesitate
To swing your love in my way
This wake up call is opportunity
To correct a mistake now
And if you need instruction
Boy Ill show you how --oh--
You need a woman
Who can treat a man
Like he must be treated
From all your memories
Home girl must be deleted now
She dont love you boy
And shes never around
(chorus)
Bridge:
She aint got nothing on me
It dont take much to see
That she cant handle you
She cant move you
She cant groove you
She cant do you like I do you
Rub your body
With my fingers
You got to
Swing your love to me
(break)(chorus)(vamp)(out)

song performed by by One Voice
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was born by the River

My scholar friend keeps his late Grandma's diary
And a certain page was highlighted in the color of yellow.
My old ferryman you never realized that how I deeply loved you?
Since in the cradle the word 'depth' I heard several occasions from my parents.
They always talk about the mysterious river's depth.
But I am grown up now and I understand the nagging life is more deeper than the river.
A hidden alligator in the river takes a soul away once in a way
And you disappeared without saying me Goodbye!
I murmur your everlasting song while sitting on my sick bed.
'This old vehicle stops at all railroad crossings
As I am really scared of painful death.'

* My humble dedication to Sam Cooke for quoting his wonderful song's title.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Dubmobile

Talking about the reel the reel the reel....
(echo: talking about the reel the reel the reel.... in reverse!)
Dubmobile
Now Im the main man at the microphone stand
I chat two words just to make you understand
Im the main man at the microphone stand
I chat two words just to make you understand
I see a set of wheels and I like the touch an feel
Me love it even better when me sit behind the wheel
I got ambition an den me find ignition
Then the dealer ask me if I like electric transmission
The dealer asks if me like plenty of vision,
Yes me boss I want no collision
No collision
Now Im the main man at the microphone stand
I chat two words just to make you understand
Im the main man at the microphone stand
I chat two words just to make you understand
So I take a test drive and eat everything alive
When I clock the needle move, I couldnt believe me eyes
It touched 140 to my suprise
Then I stop an think this car is for me
When me come back him wan talk bout money
Me wan buy the car on h.p.
Long term credit and interest free, five year warranty, guarantee.
The dealer asks me like a power steering
Dealer asks me like overdrive thing. yes me boss but what is
That thing? that me boss a de turbo sintin
Oi me boss you have a deal and at long last I find my dubmobile.
Dubmobile.
Everywhere I go, just rockin and swing, just rockin and swing
Now Im the main man at the microphone stand
I chat two words just to make you understand
Im the main man at the microphone stand
I chat two words just to make you understand
Me put in cassette and equalizer
Anywhere me go me can listen reggae star
Now me just cruise to party and thing
Everywhere me go its just rockin and swing
Rockin and swing
Everywhere I go, just rockin and swing, just rockin and swing
Everywhere I go, just rockin and swing, just rockin and swing
The dealer asks me like power steering
Dealer asks me like overdrive thing. yes me boss but what is
That thing? that me boss a de turbo sintin
Oi me boss you have a deal and at long last I find my dubmobile
Me put in cassette and equalizer
Anywhere me go me can listen reggae star
Now me just cruise to party and thing
Everywhere me go its just rockin and swing
Rockin and swing
Everywhere I go, just rockin and swing, just rockin and swing (repeat till end)

song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swing

The one desire is to dance the swing
Could catch it all night long
And when Im riding on that wing
And just for you Im in the swing
And when Im riding on that wing
My heart does start to sing
Fu:r dich allein tanz ich den swing [ u: is a deutsche y ]
Ich hoff du bleibst noch hier
Vielleicht geh ich nach zu dir hin
Und dann tanzst du mit mir
And when Im dancing
Ive got to give it all
Cause its the only thing
And when Im waiting
Until last call
I do it for the swing
And when Im riding on that wing
My heart does start to sing
And when Im riding on that wing
My heart does start to sing

song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swing

The one desire is to dance the swing
Could catch it all night long
And when Im riding on that wing
And just for you Im in the swing
And when Im riding on that wing
My heart does start to sing
Fu:r dich allein tanz ich den swing [ u: is a deutsche y ]
Ich hoff du bleibst noch hier
Vielleicht geh ich nach zu dir hin
Und dann tanzst du mit mir
And when Im dancing
Ive got to give it all
Cause its the only thing
And when Im waiting
Until last call
I do it for the swing
And when Im riding on that wing
My heart does start to sing
And when Im riding on that wing
My heart does start to sing

song performed by by Yello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River of Rivers in Connecticut

There is a great river this side of Stygia
Before one comes to the first black cataracts
And trees that lack the intelligence of trees.

In that river, far this side of Stygia,
The mere flowing of the water is a gayety,
Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks,

No shadow walks. The river is fateful,
Like the last one. But there is no ferryman.
He could not bend against its propelling force.

It is not to be seen beneath the appearances
That tell of it. The steeple at Farmington
Stands glistening and Haddam shines and sways.

It is the third commonness with light and air,
A curriculum, a vigor, a local abstraction . . .
Call it, one more, a river, an unnamed flowing,

Space-filled, reflecting the seasons, the folk-lore
Of each of the senses; call it, again and again,
The river that flows nowhere, like a sea.

poem by Wallace Stevens
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A Wild Flower's Take Off

I hear the woods cry and the stream stops for a while
And fiery birds fly to a distant place.
An isolated boat drifts lazily and the ferryman is nowhere?
I sniff the fragrance of the hidden flower
And I feel someone keeps her in a cruel city.
This rare flower never blooms here again
That I am sure like a Sunset.

*Man! It sounds great. [Maxim.Gorky-The lower depths]

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Birds' Lullaby

I

Sing to us, cedars; the twilight is creeping
With shadowy garments, the wilderness through;
All day we have carolled, and now would be sleeping,
So echo the anthems we warbled to you;
While we swing, swing,
And your branches sing,
And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.

II

Sing to us, cedars; the night-wind is sighing,
Is wooing, is pleading, to hear you reply;
And here in your arms we are restfully lying,
And longing to dream to your soft lullaby;
While we swing, swing,
And your branches sing,
And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.

III

Sing to us, cedars; your voice is so lowly,
Your breathing so fragrant, your branches so strong;
Our little nest-cradles are swaying so slowly,
While zephyrs are breathing their slumberous song.
And we swing, swing,
While your branches sing,
And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.

poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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The grass roots writer in a search of a mystique river's depth

Here quietly she flows like a country lass.
Sometimes she changes her colors as a lizard.
He knows that she hides so many secrets.
What happened to the newly-wed Ferryman's eldest son
And the blacksmith's triplet daughter,
Were they drowned or committed suicide?
Their pledge still echoes in the thick forest
And he's very inquisitive to catch the inarticulate dialects.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Wading Birds

Cranes and Herons fly in the twilight sky
A loon idles at a riverbank,
Full Moon peeps like a new coin to illuminate the dark side of life
And the ferryman shouts; 'Nobody wants to cross the river.'

* That both I and you have had to travel and trudge through the long round is owing to our not discovering, not penetrating the four truths.What four?
They are the noble truth of suffering, the noble truth of the origin of suffering, the noble truth of the cessation of suffering, and the noble truth of the way leading to the cessation of suffering. [The Buddha]

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If I Ever Marry, I'll Marry A Maid

If ever I marry, I'll marry a maid;
To marry a widow, I am sore afraid:
For maids they are simple, and never will grutch,
But widows full oft, as they say, know too much.

A maid is so sweet, and so gentle of kind,
That a maid is the wife I will choose to my mind
A widow is froward, and never will yield;
Or if such there be, you will meet them but seeld.

A maid ne'er complaineth, do what so you will;
But what you mean well, a widow takes ill:
A widow will make you a drudge and a slave,
And, cost ne'er so much, she will ever go brave.

A maid is so modest, she seemeth a rose
When it first beginneth the bud to unclose;
But a widow full-blowen full often deceives,
And the next wind that bloweth shakes down all her leaves.

The widows be lovely, I never gainsay,
But too well all their beauty they know to display;
But a maid hath so great hidden beauty in store,
She can spare to a widow, yet never be poor.

Then, if ever I marry, give me a fresh maid,
If to marry with any I be not afraid;
But to marry with any, it asketh much care;
And some bachelors hold they are best as they are.

poem by Anonymous Americas
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Buttercups under the flamboyant trees beside the lake

The old ferryman waits at the river bank
for passengers?
But only one he sees
A lass with a cane basket,
Who believes that his old fiancee's
eldest daughter?
In this off season no more buttercups
But the old flamboyant trees still stand
They only know their past friendship.
Though he grips the oars well
Yet he couldn't hold the ancient faded love?

[One does not pour new wine into old skins.]-Jesus

nimal dunuhinga

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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