At The Banquet To the Japanese Embassy
AUGUST 2, 1872
WE welcome you, Lords of the Land of the Sun!
The voice of the many sounds feebly through one;
Ah! would 't were a voice of more musical tone,
But the dog-star is here, and the song-birds have flown.
And what shall I sing that can cheat you of smiles,
Ye heralds of peace from the Orient isles?
If only the Jubilee--Why did you wait?
You are welcome, but oh! you're a little too late!
We have greeted our brothers of Ireland and France,
Round the fiddle of Strauss we have joined in the dance,
We have lagered Herr Saro, that fine-looking man,
And glorified Godfrey, whose name it is Dan.
What a pity! we've missed it and you've missed it too,
We had a day ready and waiting for you;
We'd have shown you--provided, of course, you had come--
You 'd have heard--no, you would n't, because it was dumb.
And then the great organ! The chorus's shout
Like the mixture teetotalers call 'Cold without'--
A mingling of elements, strong, but not sweet;
And the drum, just referred to, that 'couldn't be beat.'
The shrines of our pilgrims are not like your own,
Where white Fusiyama lifts proudly its cone,
(The snow-mantled mountain we see on the fan
That cools our hot cheeks with a breeze from Japan.)
But ours the wide temple where worship is free
As the wind of the prairie, the wave of the sea;
You may build your own altar wherever you will,
For the roof of that temple is over you still.
One dome overarches the star-bannered shore;
You may enter the Pope's or the Puritan's door,
Or pass with the Buddhist his gateway of bronze,
For a priest is but Man, be he bishop or bonze.
And the lesson we teach with the sword and the pen
Is to all of God's children, 'We also are men!
If you wrong us we smart, if you prick us we bleed,
If you love us, no quarrel with color or creed!'
You'll find us a well-meaning, free-spoken crowd,
Good-natured enough, but a little too loud,--
To be sure, there is always a bit of a row
When we choose our Tycoon, and especially now.
You'll take it all calmly,--we want you to see
What a peaceable fight such a contest can be,
And of one thing be certain, however it ends,
You will find that our voters have chosen your friends.
If the horse that stands saddled is first in the race,
You will greet your old friend with the weed in his face;
And if the white hat and the White House agree,
You'll find H. G. really as loving as he.
But oh, what a pity--once more I must say--
That we could not have joined in a 'Japanese day'!
Such greeting we give you to-night as we can;
Long life to our brothers and friends of Japan!
The Lord of the mountain looks down from his crest
As the banner of morning unfurls in the West;
The Eagle was always the friend of the Sun;
You are welcome!--The song of the cage-bird is done.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Life In The West.
Ho! brothers--come hither and list to my story--
Merry and brief will the narrative be.
Here, like a monarch, I reign in my glory--
Master am I, boys, of all that I see!
Where once frowned a forest, a garden is smiling--
The meadow and moorland are marshes no more;
And there curls the smoke of my cottage, beguiling
The children who cluster like grapes round my door.
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest;
The land of the heart is the land of the West!
Oho, boys!--oho, boys!--oho!
Talk not of the town, boys--give me the broad prairie,
Where man, like the wind, roams impulsive and free:
Behold how its beautiful colors all vary,
Like those of the clouds, or the deep-rolling sea!
A life in the woods, boys, is even as changing;
With proud independence we season our cheer,
And those who the world are for happiness ranging,
Won't find it at all if they don't find it here.
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest!
I'll show you the life, boys, we live in the West!
Oho, boys!--oho, boys!--oho!
Here, brothers, secure from all turmoil and danger,
We reap what we sow, for the soil is our own;
We spread hospitality's board for the stranger,
And care not a jot for the king on his throne.
We never know want, for we live by our labor,
And in it contentment and happiness find;
We do what we can for a friend or a neighbor,
And die, boys, in peace and good-will to mankind.
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest;
You know how we live, boys, and die in the West!
Oho, boys!--oho, boys!--oho!
poem by George Pope Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Hymn Of Peace
SUNG AT THE 'JUBILEE,' JUNE 15, 1869,
TO THE MUSIC OF SELLER'S 'AMERICAN HYMN'
ANGEL of Peace, thou hast wandered too long!
Spread thy white wings to the sunshine of love!
Come while our voices are blended in song,--
Fly to our ark like the storm-beaten dove!
Fly to our ark on the wings of the dove,--
Speed o'er the far-sounding billows of song,
Crowned with thine olive-leaf garland of love,--
Angel of Peace, thou hast waited too long!
Joyous we meet, on this altar of thine
Mingling the gifts we have gathered for thee,
Sweet with the odors of myrtle and pine,
Breeze of the prairie and breath of the sea,--
Meadow and mountain and forest and sea!
Sweet is the fragrance of myrtle and pine,
Sweeter the incense we offer to thee,
Brothers once more round this altar of thine!
Angels of Bethlehem, answer the strain!
Hark! a new birth-song is filling the sky!--
Loud as the storm-wind that tumbles the main
Bid the full breath of the organ reply,--
Let the loud tempest of voices reply,--
Roll its long surge like the-earth-shaking main!
Swell the vast song till it mounts to the sky!
Angels of Bethlehem, echo the strain!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Voice From The West
What is the voice I hear
On the wind of the Western Sea?
Sentinel, listen from out Cape Clear
And say what the voice may be.
``'Tis a proud, free people calling loud to a people proud and free.
``And it says to them, `Kinsmen, hail!
We severed have been too long.
Now let us have done with a worn-out tale-
The tale of an ancient Wrong;
And our friendship last long as Love doth last,
and be stronger than Death is strong!'''
Answer them, ``Sons of the self-same race,
And blood of the self-same clan,
Let us speak with each other face to face,
And answer man to man;
And loyally love and trust each other as none but free men can.
``So fling them out to the breeze,
Shamrock, Thistle, and Rose!
And the Star-Spangled Banner unfurl with these,
A message to friends and foes,
Wherever the sails of peace are seen and wherever the war-wind blows.
``A message to bond and thrall to wake:
For wherever we come, we twain,
The throne of the tyrant shall rock and quake,
And his menace be void and vain;
For you are lords of a strong, young land, and we are lords of the main.''
Yes, this is the voice on the bluff March gale:
``We severed have been too long.
But now we have done with a worn-out tale,
The tale of an ancient Wrong;
And our friendship shall last long as Love doth last, and be stronger than Death is strong!''
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Voice From The Mountain
Voice from the mountain
And a voice from the sea
Voice in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
The sound on the ocean wave
And the sound in the tree
Sound in a country lane
Say you can be free.
Tell me you crowd you crowd
Tell me again
Tell me out loud out loud
This sound is rain.
Tune from the hillside
And tune full of light
A flute in the morning
And a chime in the night.
I know the game again
I know the score
I know my name my name
But this tune is more.
Voice from the mountain
And voice from the sea
Voice from in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnets of the boy who drew cats
I
A long time ago
when soldiers still carried spears and swords
a Japanese farmer and his wife,
had a string of children
and everyone got a task.
They milked cows, cared after pigs,
gathered chicken eggs
and ploughed the soil,
planted rice, wheat and oats,
but the youngest was too weak and small
to do any work
and time and again he neglected his duties
and disappeared
and drew cats.
II
The farmer scratched his head
and did not know what to do
with a child that disappears
and couldn’t complete a task and drew
big and small, white, black, ginger and pied cats
of each size and type.
So the farmer and his wife reckoned
to take the child to the nearest temple
to become a priest
and the farmer tied his sword around his side,
loaded the child on a horse
saddled his own horse
and maybe the men of God
would learn the child about duties.
III
The child studied well
but nobody could stop him
from drawing cats everywhere
and it happened
that the priest thought
that he couldn’t
become a priest and rather
be an artist.
The child was sent
to a temple farther away
and the priest instructed him
to avoid big places at night
and to find a sleeping place
in a small place.
IV
The temple was abandoned
because a evil goblin
coming from the dark earth,
expelled the priests
and the soldiers
that went to face him
had all disappeared.
At night a light burned
in the temple
and when the boy arrived
he went in and everywhere
that he found a white screen he painted a cat
and he remembered the words of the old priest
and went to sleep in a small cabinet.
V
That night he heard a big noise
of a great fight
and cats roaring like lions
growling angrily
while something tried to
smash and pierce them
and he heard them
ripping something to pieces.
The next morning
a goblin
with the head of a rat,
with a pronged whip and sword in his hands
was dead in the middle of the temple
where he lost the fight.
VI
l’Envoi
There was still wet blood
on the mouths of the cats
painted
on the screens
and they looked innocent
and vulnerable.
When the priests returned
they immediately saw
what happened
and they declared
boy a hero
and later he was renown
as a painter
that only paints cats.
[Reference: With thanks to “Japanese Fairy Tales, The boy who drew cats” by Lafcadio Hearn that gave me the idea of this poem.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Today's the Day
Perhaps today's the day that I break free
Free from the hustle that comes each day
Free from distractions that lead me astray
Perhaps I can be what I'm made to be
Perhaps today's the day I'll choose to move
Move beyond the past into tomorrow
Move with purpose in the way I should go
Perhaps I'll believe I've nothing to prove
Perhaps today's the day I'll find my peace
Peace like a stream flowing fresh to my soul
Peace that brings new meaning and makes me whole
Perhaps that assurance will never cease
Perhaps today's the day I'll hear Your voice
So clearly that my heart will have no choice
If today's the day I'm finally free
May I be free to run and tell the world
With Your banner of love proudly unfurled
For today's the day You have set me free
If today's the day I finally move
May I move boldly toward holy life
Allowing You to guide me through the strife
As I dance for joy for You've made me move
And, if today's the day I find Your peace
May I promote that peace to all I meet
Living in peace and loving those I greet
As I gratefully give others Your peace
If today's the day I will hear Your voice
May I know it and may my heart rejoice
((March 7th,2010))
poem by Danny Speicher
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Choose You This Day Whom Ye Will Serve
YES, tyrants, you hate us, and fear while you hate
The self-ruling, chain-breaking, throne-shaking State!
The night-birds dread morning,--your instinct is true,--
The day-star of Freedom brings midnight for you!
Why plead with the deaf for the cause of mankind?
The owl hoots at noon that the eagle is blind!
We ask not your reasons,--'t were wasting our time,--
Our life is a menace, our welfare a crime!
We have battles to fight, we have foes to subdue,--
Time waits not for us, and we wait not for you!
The mower mows on, though the adder may writhe
And the copper-head coil round the blade of his
scythe!
'No sides in this quarrel,' your statesmen may urge,
Of school-house and wages with slave-pen scourge!--
No sides in the quarrel! proclaim it as well
To the angels that fight with the legions of hell!
They kneel in God's temple, the North and the South,
With blood on each weapon and prayers in each mouth.
Whose cry shall be answered? Ye Heavens, attend
The lords of the lash as their voices ascend!
'O Lord, we are shaped in the image of Thee,--
Smite down the base millions that claim to be free,
And lend thy strong arm to the soft-handed race
Who eat not their bread in the sweat of their face!'
So pleads the proud planter. What echoes are these?
The bay of his bloodhound is borne on the breeze,
And, lost in the shriek of his victim's despair,
His voice dies unheard.--Hear the Puritan's prayer!
'O Lord, that didst smother mankind in thy flood,
The sun is as sackcloth, the moon is as blood,
The stars fall to earth as untimely are cast
The figs from the fig-tree that shakes in the blast!
'All nations, all tribes in whose nostrils is breath
Stand gazing at Sin as she travails with Death!
Lord, strangle the monster that struggles to birth,
Or mock us no more with thy 'Kingdom on Earth!'
'If Ammon and Moab must reign in the land
Thou gavest thine Israel, fresh from thy hand,
Call Baal and Ashtaroth out of their graves
To be the new gods for the empire of slaves!'
Whose God will ye serve, O ye rulers of men?
Will ye build you new shrines in the slave-breeder's den?
Or bow with the children of light, as they call
On the Judge of the Earth and the Father of All?
Choose wisely, choose quickly, for time moves apace,--
Each day is an age in the life of our race!
Lord, lead them in love, ere they hasten in fear
From the fast-rising flood that shall girdle the sphere!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Licia Sonnets 01
Bright matchless star, the honour of the sky,
From whose clear shine heaven's vault hath all his light,
I send these poems to your graceful eye;
Do you but take them, and they have their right.
I build besides a temple to your name,
Wherein my thoughts shall daily sing your praise;
And will erect an altar for the same,
Which shall your virtues and your honour raise.
But heaven the temple of your honour is,
Whose brasen tops your worthy self made proud;
The ground an altar, base for such a bliss
With pity torn, because I sighed so loud.
And since my skill no worship can impart,
Make you an incense of my loving heart.
Sad, all alone, not long I musing sat,
But that my thoughts compelled me to aspire;
A laurel garland in my hand I gat,
So the Muses I approached the nigher.
My suit was this, a poet to become,
To drink with them, and from the heavens be fed.
Phoebus denied, and sware there was no room,
Such to be poets as fond fancy led.
With that I mourned and sat me down to weep;
Venus she smiled, and smiling to me said,
Come drink with me, and sit thee still, and sleep.
This voice I heard; and Venus I obeyed.
That poison sweet hath done me all this wrong,
For now of love must needs be all my song.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sing Our Own Song
The great flood of tears that we've cried
For our brothers and sisters who've died
Over four hundred years
Has washed away our fears
And strengthened our pride
Now we turn back the tide
We will no longer hear your command
We will sieze the control from your hand
We will fan the flame
Of our anger and pain
And you'll feel the shame
For what you do in gods name
(chorus)
We will fight for the right to be free
We will build our own society
And we will sing, we will sing
We will sing our own song
When the ancient drum rythms ring
The voice of our forefathers sings
Forward africa run
Our day of freedom has come
For me and for you
Amandla awethu
(chorus)
We will fight for the right to be free
We will build our own society
And we will sing, we will sing
We will sing our own song
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Chosen People
Glory is on our way[? ]
Worship the sun, great spirit.
Born of the mother earth,
Seek for the true white brother.
We are the chosen people, give back our sacred land.
We are the four grandfathers, a destiny for man.
It is written in our prophecy,
[it is written in our prophecy]
That we shall find the true white brother,
[we shall find the true white brother]
Who will help us, joined together, to build humanity.
There is a place for everyone.
We are the chosen people, give back our holy land.
We are the ever forest, we are great spirits hand.
She will call us soon,
She will shake her body,
Bringing your land to ruin.
Why will the world not hear us?
We are most ancient teachers, we know great spirits plan.
We learned by natures secrets, the inner side of man.
We are the chosen people, give back our sacred land.
We are the four grandfathers, a destiny for man.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Swiss Song, On The Anniversary Of An Ancient Battle
Look on the white Alps round!
If yet they gird a land
Where freedom's voice and step are found,
Forget ye not the band,
The faithful band, our sires, who fell
Here, in the narrow battle-dell!
If yet, the wilds among,
Our silent hearts may burn,
When the deep mountain-horn hath rung,
And home our steps may turn,
-Home!-home!-if still that name be dear,
Praise to the men who perish'd here!
Look on the white Alps round!
Up to their shining snows
That day the stormy rolling sound,
The sound of battle rose!
Their caves prolong'd the trumpet's blast,
Their dark pines trembled as it pass'd!
They saw the princely crest,
They saw the knightly spear,
The banner and the mail-clad breast
Borne down, and trampled here!
They saw-and glorying there they stand,
Eternal records to the land!
Praise to the mountain-born,
The brethren of the glen!
By them no steel-array was worn,
They stood as peasant-men!
They left the vineyard and the field
To break an empire's lance and shield!
Look on the white Alps round!
If yet, along their steeps,
Our children's fearless feet may bound,
Free as the chamois leaps:
Teach them in song to bless the band
Amidst whose mossy graves we stand!
If, by the wood-fire's blaze,
When winter-stars gleam cold,
The glorious tales of elder days
May proudly yet be told,
Forget not then the shepherd-race,
Who made the hearth a holy place!
Look on the white Alps round!
If yet the sabbath bell
Comes o'er them with a gladdening sound,
Think on the battle-dell!
For blood first bath'd its flowery sod,
That chainless hearts might worship God!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Who Is that Sing in me!
All the time listen to that great singer,
The great song, great lyrics sung with great melody,
Someone sings in me and everyone,
' I am you and you are me,
Come and see, we are one! '
But how in this turbulent flow of life,
Is it true, everyone listen this?
Some say caged bird sings,
Some say it is song of soul,
Some say it has a song and it sings,
some try to listen it, some say, when I have my own song how can I listen it?
Fantastic song it is, it the song of the divine,
Song of a dreamer, song of the captain of life,
some listen to it and forget what they are,
Some listen to it and follow the singer,
Some only try to find,
who is the singer,
Only a few can see the singer,
Look at the singer, listen the song,
Where one will be when absorbed by that divine song,
The song that enchanted me
The song that enchant everyone,
It is the God that sings,
' Ah, come to me,
Oh my child, wakeup from dream,
In this dream you are playing,
You are thinking, that you play at things,
wakeup and see, it is I am that playing!
Your sorrows are mine,
My sorrows are yours,
your body is not that cage,
It is my own temple, where I am playing my
own game! '
'Where you want to go,
You are not caged anytime
You only restricted yourself
Building a cage, you yourself sat inside
Then closed the door of cage
And that is the foolishness separated us'
'Oh dear child open the door at least that of window
of heart!
You went on sail, setting your own map,
But lured by various destinations,
One better than another, lost the plan and map,
Wonder and wander
here and there for
millions of years,
But had you listened my eternal song,
That has all maps and information,
You would have been with me as per the schedule
Only your own fall to attraction,
You lost your bag and baggage,
Whenever you lost that, you acquired new one,
But none of the bag had no map,
This time you are with the right one,
Right map, Radio, T.V., intranet and internet,
Just turn to me tuning to my station
Switching to my protocol and IP address,
Click at the linK
You feel, all fall and pain,
you find medicine outside
your ego,
Just cleanse It with tears of love,
Just apply cream of faith, go to work with head phones on in your ears,
Go to work which bring peace! '
'Where you are always free,
Don't kill my spirit, only come and sing with me,
My eternal song, come with me,
Oh my child, I am you and you are me,
Let us be one and sing, we are one in love,
We are always were not different,
We make our voice strong and loud so that,
Captains of missing ships can listen us,
Be my relay station helping my song to reach all! '
This is that song,
that eternal song,
sung by Almighty
in every heart!
The heart is chorus,
Is that source
Where He built
His temple and not a
cage to keep singing bird
in captivity or exile!
I am that his son now realised
I am that foolish
ungrateful son
put that infinite
eternal well wisher,
Melodious singer
My own father
Behind the bars!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Freedom Or Queen
LAND where the banners wave last in the sun,
Blazoned with star-clusters, many in one,
Floating o'er prairie and mountain and sea;
Hark! 't is the voice of thy children to thee!
Here at thine altar our vows we renew
Still in thy cause to be loyal and true,--
True to thy flag on the field and the wave,
Living to honor it, dying to save!
Mother of heroes! if perfidy's blight
Fall on a star in thy garland of light,
Sound but one bugle-blast! Lo! at the sign
Armies all panoplied wheel into line!
Hope of the world! thou'hast broken its chains,--
Wear thy bright arms while a tyrant remains,
Stand for the right till the nations shall own
Freedom their sovereign, with Law for her throne!
Freedom! sweet Freedom! our voices resound,
Queen by God's blessing, unsceptred, uncrowned!
Freedom, sweet Freedom, our pulses repeat,
Warm with her life-blood, as long as they beat!
Fold the broad banner-stripes over her breast,--
Crown her with star-jewels Queen of the West!
Earth for her heritage, God for her friend,
She shall reign over us, world without end!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Human Temple
The Temple in Darkness
Darkness broods upon the temple,
Glooms along the lonely aisles,
Fills up all the orient window,
Whence, like little children’s wiles,
Shadows—purple, azure, golden—
Broke upon the floor in smiles.
From the great heart of the organ
Bursts no voice of chant or psalm;
All the air, by music-pulses
Stirred no more, is deathly calm;
And no precious incense rising,
Falls, like good men’s prayer, in balm.
Not a sound of living footstep
Echoes on the marble floor;
Not a sigh of stranger passing
Pierces through the closèd door;
Quenched the light upon the altar:
Where the priest stood, none stands more.
Lord, why hast Thou left Thy temple
Scorned of man, disowned by Thee!
Rather let Thy right hand crush it,
None its desolation see!
List—‘He who the temple builded
Doth His will there. Let it be!’
A Light in the Temple
Lo, a light within the temple!
Whence it cometh no man knows;
Barred the doors: the night-black windows
Stand apart in solemn rows,
All without seems gloom eternal,
Yet the glimmer comes and goes—
As if silent-footed angels
Through the dim aisles wandered fair,
Only traced amid the darkness,
By the glory in their hair,
Till at the forsaken altar
They all met, and praised God there.
Now the light grows—fuller, clearer;
Hark, the organ ’gins to sound.
Faint, like broken spirit crying
Unto Heaven from the ground;
While the chorus of the angels
Mingles everywhere around.
See, the altar shines all radiant,
Though no mortal priest there stands,
And no earthly congregation
Worships with uplifted hands:
Yet they gather, slow and saintly,
In innumerable bands.
And the chant celestial rises
Where the human prayers have ceased:
No tear-sacrifice is offered,
For all anguish is appeased,
Through its night of desolation,
To His temple comes the Priest.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
From the Forests
Where in a green, moist, myrtle dell
The torrent voice rings strong
And clear, above a star-bright well,
I write this woodland song.
The melodies of many leaves
Float in a fragrant zone;
And here are flowers by deep-mossed eaves
That day has never known.
I'll weave a garland out of these,
The darlings of the birds,
And send it over singing seas
With certain sunny words -
With certain words alive with light
Of welcome for a thing
Of promise, born beneath the white,
Soft afternoon of Spring.
The faithful few have waited long
A life like this to see;
And they will understand the song
That flows to-day from me.
May every page within this book
Be as a radiant hour;
Or like a bank of mountain brook,
All flower and leaf and flower.
May all the strength and all the grace
Of Letters make it beam
As beams a lawn whose lovely face
Is as a glorious dream.
And may that strange divinity
That men call Genius write
Some deathless thing in days to be,
To fill those days with light.
Here where the free, frank waters run,
I pray this book may grow
A sacred candour like the sun
Above the morning snow.
May noble thoughts in faultless words -
In clean white diction - make
It shine as shines the home of birds
And moss and leaf and lake.
This fair fresh life with joy I hail,
And this belief express,
Its days will be a brilliant tale
Of effort and success.
Here ends my song; I have a dream
Of beauty like the grace
Which lies upon the land of stream
In yonder mountain place.
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Songbird
With the voice of an angel she sang everyday
She sang everywhere we went
Someone said she could become a star
With the voice that was heaven sent
She looked up at the jewelled night sky
Wondering how far she could go
They offered a record contract
And a bit part in a west end show
She could see herself singing around the world
Packing her bags off she went
She appeared on TV, even made it into a film
She climbed each rung of the ladder
Sometimes taking several steps at a time
Parties followed one by one all along the way
Old friends she ignored and plastic new ones she made
She was riding on the crest of a wave
Nothing could stop her now
Fans grew and grew as her star shone bright
The parties still raged until one fateful night
No one could recall exactly what went wrong
Only that in the morning her voice was without a song
The doctors they all shook their heads
They pronounced she would never sing again
As the months went on her plastic friends
Disappeared like the wind
One day she looked around and everything was gone
Friends, fans, record contracts and songs
Broken and beaten she headed for home
She hoped that what she’d left in a whim
Would still be waiting there for her
As the train pulled into the station
She looked out for crowds to welcome her home
But there was no one only me
All the friends she had ignored
As she quested for fortune and fame
Moved away and never came
I smiled and took her hand as she stepped off the train
Then held it as I walked her to her family home
As the years moved on by the closer we became
Until the church bells one day rang out our names
The day after we were married
Her voice came back again
She could now challenge the birds
For who sang the sweetest song
As for fame and fortune they were long gone
She had more in her life now than an empty stage
In the fields and the meadows
Where she once sang before, she now sings again
Love can mend most anything
Even a voice that has been broken
As we walk towards our sunset
Nothing can tear us apart
We walk as one
With love and song in our heart
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Everybodys Everything
Lead vocal: seems like everybodys waiting
For a new change to come around.
Background: come around, come around, come around.
Lead vocal: waiting for the day when the
King, queen of soul sing around
Background: sing around, sing around, sing around, sing around.
Lead vocal: you can understand everythings to
Share. let your spirit dance brothers everywhere. let your head be free,
Turn the wisdom key
Find it naturally - see youre lucky to be.
Dig this sound its been round and round and round.
You get out your cold feet ba-by
Something on your back lay it down.
Background: lay it down, lay it down, lay it down.
Lead vocal: dont you know honey maybe your light might shine this whole town
Background: this whole town, this whole town, this whole town, sing around.
Lead vocal: time for you to all get down
Yeah do it
Organ solo:
Background: get ready uh - get ready uh -
Get ready uh - get ready uh -
Lead vocal: dig this sound
Its been round and round and round
You can understand everythings to share. let your spirit dance brothers everywhere. let your head be free. turn the wisdom key
Find it naturally, see youre lucky to be
Sing it loud
Its time for you to all get down
Yeah do it.
Guitar solo:
Background
(8 times): get ready uh
Lead vocal: sing it loud
Its time for you to all get down
Yeah do it.
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Not a Foe
'Haru O Aisuru Hitho wa
Kokoro Kiyoki Hitho
Sumire no Hana no Yona
Boku no *Tomodachi'
I write this song to an unknown friend
The Red Indian.
These few lines are from a Japanese song
I learned while I was in a Japanese Language school, Funabashi, Japan.
You may ask the meaning of that I am sure.
I am sorry it's almost forgotten.
Human kind forgets everything
Not purposely,
It's the nature of their caliber.
I don't know your name brother.
But I have seen you many times in the black & white Cow Boy movies.
I touched your old land accidentally
And I feel the palpitation of your brave heart!
Sorry, I can remember now the meaning of the last line in that song.
It says; 'You are my* friend.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Coo of the Cushat
Over the smooth lawns, broider'd with violets,
Over the hedges of snow-white thorn,
Over the billowy, pink apple-blossoms,
The musical coo of the cushat is borne.
In the still depths of the dim old plantations,
Where the sweet whispering night-wind stirs
The delicate scent from the dew-sprinkled flowers,
It sings by its nest in the tall green firs.
So peaceful, so pure, so divinely contented,
The world out of sight and its true love nigh
Their little grey wings softly folded together,—
What dreams I have set to that melody!
I listen at dawn, and I listen at even;
I hear the notes bubbling all day long
Through the woodpecker's laugh and the chirp of the titmouse,—
Little dove, yours is the sweetest song!
'Tis not a sad song, though it sets me a-crying—
But gladness too deep to be spoken aloud;
Nor forlorn, though 'tis sung in the loneliest places—
But only too sacred to sing to a crowd.
I envy you, though you're so small and so humble;
I wish I were like you, you shy little dove—
So far from the world and so free from its passion,
Yet sure of your white eggs and sure of your love.
I wish I were pure from low earthly ambitions,
As quiet and calm and contented as you;
I wish my heart held such a well-spring of music,
That I were as gentle and trustful and true.
Little dove, you were worthy to carry the olive
Over the waters to Noah's host,
To die for the mother of Christ in the Temple,
To be chosen for shrine of the Holy Ghost.
And now you have only to live and be happy,
To rear up your young ones and teach them to coo;
O sing on, and teach me the heavenly lessons,
To be faithful and worthy of God's work too.
Teach me so humbly to take what He gives me,
The manifold duties, the great and the small;
Teach me so simply to do what He bids me,
Loving and trustful, and thankful for all.
poem by Ada Cambridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Send Me An Angel
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
The wise man said just walk this way
To the dawn of the light
The wind will blow into your face
As the years pass you by
Hear this voice from deep inside
Its the call of your heart
Close your eyes and your will find
The passage out of the dark
Here I am
Will you send me an angel
Here I am
In the land of the morning star
The wise man said just find your place
In the eye of the storm
Seek the roses along the way
Just beware of the thorns
Here I am
Will you send me an angel
Here I am
In the land of the morning star
The wise man said just raise your hand
And reach out for the spell
Find the door to the promised land
Just believe in yourself
Hear this voice from deep inside
Its the call of your heart
Close your eyes and your will find
The way out of the dark
Here I am
Will you send me an angel
Here I am
In the land of the morning star
Here I am
Will you send me an angel
Here I am
In the land of the morning star
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!