En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Who kidnapped our happiness?

I cannot get up early before the lazy Sunrise.
Where should I go?
A retiree seeks a haven to keep his burden head on a soft pillow
And sleep the whole day until she brings the mug of bitter coffee with the usual nagging.
She too became wearied in running behind my oblique shadow
And in the starry night I count the stars one by one in the Galaxy.
I request her to sing like old days and she murmurs her favorite in a housecoat.
'I know the joy of being an old man
That's called sorrow my dear.'
You see the things are blurred and hear very low
Limbs cannot move and the soul full of aches.
The day will come when I smile with you,
You look away!
And I understand dear that you won't recognize me anymore.
And I know the joy of being an old woman
That's called sadness my dear.'

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Dear Night

Dear Night,
Again me, paper and a pen
Draw the air of my soul that still flying

Dear Night,
Again me, ipod and Foo Fighters
Sing aloud 'Walking After You'

Dear Night,
Again me, sky and the wind
Paint his face among the stars

Dear Night,
Again me, feelings and thoughts
Try to find the answer who does he love

Dear Night,
Again me, vision and smell
Read his mind underneath the pain

Dear Night,
Again me, loneliness and emptiness
Beyond of his sight and sensitiveness

Dear Night,
Again me, him and us
Around uncertainty situation of impossible LOVE

poem by Ade Renny Dwi Damayanti
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My Dear Friend

you have been there for me no matter what
you have pick me up when i fall down
my dear friend
you are the reason why i am still alive
you are the reason why i can love again
because of you i have the strength to fight against enemies
you understand the pain i'm going through
you make me stand up on my feet

my dear friend
you have always there waiting for my call
you have always put a smile on my face when i feel sad
my dear friend
what would i do without you
who would i be without you
you never avoided me like everybody else
god drift us apart
we no longer see each other face again

my dear friend
everything seems different and harder when you're here
my tears are like waterfall
they keep on falling
my dear friend
please come back into my life
holding hands in the darkness
sing our favorite song until we fall asleep
my dear friend
let finish what we has started together
alone it will take years

my dear friend
you fight my fight
you got my back
my dear friend
how could i thank you
what should i do to please you
oh my dear, dear friend
it is a pleasure to have you as a friend
thank you my dear, dear friend

poem by Guenael Oristel
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Kiss Me Dear

Kiss me dear kiss with softly soft*
Kiss me dear kiss with your desire*
Kiss me dear kiss with a little bite*

Kiss me dear kiss with your heart*
Kiss me dear kiss with your warm hug*
Kiss me dear kiss with your smooth lips*

Kiss me dear kiss with your hopes*
Kiss me dear kiss with your pray*
Kiss me dear kiss with your honestly*

Kiss me dear kiss with your loves*
Kiss me dear kiss with your happiness*
Kiss me dear kiss with happily*

Kiss me dear kiss with heartbeat*
Kiss me dear kiss with really*
Kiss me dear kiss with admirable*
Kiss me dear kiss with quietly*

Kiss me dear kiss with realy on*
Kiss me dear kiss with require*
Kiss me dear kiss me now and forevermore*
I'need you for strong standing with me**

poem by Dwi utami
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Kiss Me Dear..Part3

Kiss me dear kiss me with lustful.
Kiss me dear kiss me with luxurious.
Kiss me dear kiss me with lyrical.
Kiss me dear kiss me with lovable.

Kiss me dear kiss me with humorous.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hummed.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hugged.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hopeful.
Kiss me dear kiss me with gutsy.
Kiss me dear kiss me with guaranty.
Kiss me dear kiss me with gratified.
Kiss me dear kiss me with graciousness.

Couse your kiss is a consomme.............
It's different taste..........
and i'will needs again...

Kiss me dear kiss me on sunday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on monday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on tuesday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on wednesday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on thursday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on friday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on saturday.

Couse your kiss is my dish everyday.
and i'will needs again.

Kiss me dear kiss me on january.
Kiss me dear kiss me on february.
Kiss me dear kiss me on march.
Kiss me dear kiss me on april.
Kiss me dear kiss me on may.
Kiss me dear kiss me on june.
Kiss me dear kiss me on july.
Kiss me dear kiss me on august.
Kiss me dear kiss me on september.
Kiss me dear kiss me on october.
Kiss me dear kiss me on november.
Kiss me dear kiss me on december.

Couse your kiss is my: every times
every days
every month
and every years.
I'will needs again

poem by Dwi utami
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The Scottish Cow

They call you a cow
When you walk down the street
That doesn't make any sense to me,
As I have been to a farm once before
And cows there, I have seen.
So I would like to know why
You are called that name
And what does it really mean,
As you don't look or act like a cow
But maybe there's something, I haven't seen.
Your daughters bow their head
Whenever they are next to you
As though as they are ashamed,
Is it their fault for that name your called
If not, then who is to be blamed.
Women still point at you
And the men they still smile
Whenever that you walk by
I still don't understand the name your called,
But maybe one day, I will ask you why.
Questions come to my mind
About the word your called
Every time that you are walking past,
Like will they ever stop calling you a cow
Or will that name forever last.
As you don't moo
And you are not fat at all
And certainly your not cover up in fur,
But your called a cow on a daily bases
And to me that seems so absurd.
So when your daughters get older
Will they also be called cows
Just like you their dear old mother
Maybe that's why they are bowing their heads
They are pretending or wishing they are some other.
And the women they still point
As the men they still smile and talk
Whenever you walk that mile,
Then maybe in fact you are what you are
And maybe indeed, you are a cow.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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Paul McNeely

Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane!
How you stole in the room (where I lay so ill)
In your nurse's cap and linen cuffs,
And took my hand and said with a smile:
"You are not so ill -- you'll soon be well."
And how the liquid thought of your eyes
Sank in my eyes like dew that slips
Into the heart of a flower.
Dear Jane! the whole McNeely fortune
Could not have bought your care of me,
By day and night, and night and day;
Nor paid for your smile, nor the warmth of your soul,
In your little hands laid on my brow.
Jane, till the flame of life went out
In the dark above the disk of night
I longed and hoped to be well again
To pillow my head on your little breasts,
And hold you fast in a clasp of love --
Did my father provide for you when he died,
Jane, dear Jane?

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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I'm Losing Sleep Again

Sleep soundly, dear
And do not dream
The nightmares I dream

Sleep soundly, dear
And do not cry
When you wake up to reality

Sleep soundly, dear
And do not believe
You have woken up already

Sleep soundly, dear
And do not stop sleepwalking
Take things slow and steady

Sleep soundly, dear
And do not pretend
I'm sleeping soundly, dear friend

Sleep soundly, dear
And do not lament over
Why I’m losing sleep myself

Sleep soundly, dear
And do not leave me
When you wake up to reality

poem by Dyhanara Rios
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The Dear Brown Head

James Cecil Johnston. Suvla. August 9th, 1915

Only an hour ago we were fearful for you,
Knowing the death and the darkness behind and before you.
Years ago it might be since we were afraid.
Nothing can harm you now, O dear brown head!

You have come into port with a favouring wind;
We are tossing yet in the seas unkind.
All around you the light and glory are shed;
We are in darkness without you, dear brown head!

Heart and soul of a boy, simple and merry,
Never now to grow old, never be weary.
Light in the Land of the Young is your springing tread.
Long and heavy the road to you, dear brown head!

The House of God is full in the August days --
Full of the young coming home by the bitter ways.
Their beds are made near God, and the table spread,
And you lying down, sitting down with them, dear brown head!

poem by Katharine Tynan
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The Divine Lullaby

I hear Thy voice, dear Lord;
I hear it by the stormy sea
When winter nights are black and wild,
And when, affright, I call to Thee;
It calms my fears and whispers me,
"Sleep well, my child."

I hear Thy voice, dear Lord,
In singing winds, in falling snow,
The curfew chimes, the midnight bell.
"Sleep well, my child," it murmurs low;
"The guardian angels come and go,--
O child, sleep well!"

I hear Thy voice, dear Lord,
Ay, though the singing winds be stilled,
Though hushed the tumult of the deep,
My fainting heart with anguish chilled
By Thy assuring tone is thrilled,--
"Fear not, and sleep!"

Speak on--speak on, dear Lord!
And when the last dread night is near,
With doubts and fears and terrors wild,
Oh, let my soul expiring hear
Only these words of heavenly cheer,
"Sleep well, my child!"

poem by Eugene Field
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My Dear Dearest

My Dear, Dearest, Dear, [Oh dear dear me]

Are you too blind to see?

Far apart is the sea from the sky

And when did I last see you laugh?

And when did I last see you cry?

So far away

Does space divide?

The heart from the body?

It was so long ago

I saw you smile

I glimpsed your soul

Across a table one wooden space between

Did I ever really know you?

Is love what it seems

Or is love just for breaking

And awakening in dreams.?

My dear, dearest dear,

We have come to this place

But I must start this letter

Oh my dear, dear me!

What a waste!

poem by Yvette Smith
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Pit of Solemn

I hold dear, a beating heart in my hand
as I stood still on shifting sand.
But the stars around me hid away,
their light has vanished upon this day.
Alas, the chains which binds my heart and soul,
rust away to a shade of rustic coal.
My heart now fades as my hand be empty;
I traveled this world on a bitter spree.

I was approached by a women, in white gown she worn;
her face was that an angel, her eyes of bitter scorn.
Out of her mouth flew a melody tune,
a beautiful song sung a croon.
The music so pure it tranced my being;
it blurred my vision, I am without seeing.
This siren song has called to me;
curse me now, upon this blood red sea.
But as I go, my wake fell upon my essence,
but this holds dear to me no convalescence.

poem by Adam M. Snow
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To Jane: The Keen Stars Were Twinkling

I.
The keen stars were twinkling,
And the fair moon was rising among them,
Dear Jane.
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till you sung them
Again.

II.
As the moon's soft splendour
O'er the faint cold starlight of Heaven
Is thrown,
So your voice most tender
To the strings without soul had then given
Its own.

III.
The stars will awaken,
Though the moon sleep a full hour later
To-night;
No leaf will be shaken
Whilst the dews of your melody scatter
Delight.

IV.
Though the sound overpowers,
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Lonely is the Night without a Pillow

dear dream please forgive my eyes
if the night closely peep the
morning sunlight, for nothing leaves the crickets
awake of sweet melody until everybody will greet
the morning glory of the stars asleep

twig the ray of every tree for the wind, gallops to
lay, snore the thundering rugged stream down
to the river flow as it
sing, and looks the night as it wait the morning sky,
wondering how it goes in the tick tock of the clock

oh! ladder of every dream, a pillow comes closer my
dear pillow,
for I will make you stay in my bed with a kiss
in your head, do what the eyes and the lips say and
make my day happy as you'll be

sleep my wonderful buddy the night comes in like a
flake of snow cool as it touches your body.....

poem by Antonio Liao
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Dear Prudence

dear prudence, won't you come out to play
dear prudence, greet the brand new day
the sun is up, the sky is blue
it's beautiful and so are you
dear prudence won't you come out and play?
dear prudence open up your eyes
dear prudence see the sunny skies
the wind is low the birds will sing
that you are part of everything
dear prudence won't you open up your eyes?
look around round
look around round round
look around
dear prudence let me see you smile
dear prudence l ike a little child
the clouds will be a daisy chain
so let me see you smile again
dear prudence won't you let me see you smile

song performed by by Our Lady Peace
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Prudence

Dear prudence, won't you come out to play
Dear prudence, greet the brand new day
The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful and so are you
Dear prudence won't you come out and play
Dear prudence open up your eyes
Dear prudence see the sunny skies
The wind is low the birds will sing
That you are part of everything
Dear prudence won't you open up your eyes?
Look around round
Look around round round
Look around
Dear prudence let me see you smile
Dear prudence like a little child
The clouds will be a daisy chain
So let me see you smile again
Dear prudence won't you let me see you smile?

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Until Sunrise

“A Soldier Tales”

I stand upon this field a watchman
over my brothers who now lay at rest.
And until sunrise here I’ll stand.

Sleep my dear brothers;
Dream pleasantly with
no fear. For I will stand watch
over you all like an angel sent
from heaven. Until sunrise.

Now as the night wind whistles
I hear each of your voices in the
breeze, Each of you my dear
brothers thanking me; for watching
over you all until the sunrise.

But my dear brothers’ rest, for you need
not thank me. In fact I should be thanking you
for you are asleep now, so that I and many
others can be awake. So rest your heads in
your graves knowing that you all did not die in
vane, and until God calls me to my final resting
place. I’ll be your watchman my brothers.
Until Sunrise.

poem by Lore Me34
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Let Us Go

Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear;
Keep silence now, for singing-time is over,
And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as all we love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,
She would not hear.

Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go,
Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so,
And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show,
She would not know.

Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow,
Saying 'If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.'
All is reaped now; no grass is left to mow;
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.

Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof,
Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep;
And though she saw all heaven in flower above,
She would not love.

Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
And the sea moving saw before it move
One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair;
Though all those waves went over us, and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair,
She would not care.

Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she,
She too, remembering days and words that were,
Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we,
We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me,
She would not see.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Leave-Taking

Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear;
Keep silence now, for singing-time is over,
And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as all we love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,
She would not hear.

Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go,
Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so,
And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show,
She would not know.

Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow,
Saying 'If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.'
All is reaped now; no grass is left to mow;
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.

Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof,
Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep;
And though she saw all heaven in flower above,
She would not love.

Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
And the sea moving saw before it move
One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair;
Though all those waves went over us, and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair,
She would not care.

Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she,
She too, remembering days and words that were,
Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we,
We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me,
She would not see.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Who Am I To You?

Dear Dad,
Dear Mum,
Dear Brother,
Dear Sister,
Dear Friend,
Dear Lover,
Dear Reader,
Who am i to you?

I am like the dream you had last night,
But it was already gone when you were awake;
I am like the country and the blues you heard in the club last night,
But i was out of your mind so soon during daybreak;
I am like the Kinshasa Symphony and,
I will always remind you people of my true identity.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Leave-Taking

A Leave-Taking

Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear;
Keep silence now, for singing?time is over,
And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as we all love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,
She would not hear.

Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go,
Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so,
And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show,
She would not know.

Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow,
Saying, `If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.'
All is reaped now; no grass is left to mow;
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.

Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof,
Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep;
And though she saw all heaven in flower above,
She would not love.

Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
And the sea moving saw before it move
One moon?flower making all the foam?flowers fair;
Though all those waves went over us, and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair,
She would not care.

Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she,
She too, remembering days and words that were,
Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we,
We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me,
She would not see.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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