Beneath a veil of milky white
Beneath a veil of milky white
Stands Isaac's like a hoary dovecote,
The crozier irritates the grey silences,
The heart understands the airy rite.
The wandering specter of the centennial requiem,
The grand bearing of the shroud
And in a decrepit seine, the Gennesarian gloom
Of the Lenten Week.
The Old Testament smoke on warm altars,
And the final, orphaned cry of the priest,
A regal, humble man: clean snow on his shoulders,
And the savage purple mantles.
The eternal cathedrals of Sofia and Peter,
Storehouses of air and light, the possessions
Of the universal granary
And the threshing barn of the New Testament.
The spirit is not drawn to you in sorely troubled times,
Here drags the wolf's track of unhappiness
Along the cloudy steps;
We will never betray it:
For the slave is free, has overcome fear,
And preserved beyond measure
In the cool granaries, in deep combines,
Is the kernel of deep, full faith.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Related quotes
The early Church had nothing but the Old Testament. The New Testament lies hidden in the Old; the Old Testament lies open in the New.
quote by Randall Terry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Robe
Each naked branch, the yellow leaf or brown,
The rugged rock, and death-deformed plain
Lie white beneath the winter's feathery down,
Nor doth a spot unsightly now remain;
On sheltering roof, on man himself it falls;
But him no robe, not spotless snow makes clean;
Beneath, his corse-like spirit ever calls,
That on it too may fall the heavenly screen;
But all in vain, its guilt can never hide
From the quick spirit's heart-deep searching eye,
There barren plains, and caverns yawning wide
Ever lie naked to the passer by;
Nor can one thought deformed the presence shun,
But to the spirit's gaze stands bright as in the sun.
poem by Jones Very
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Prophet, Priest And King
An Angel came to shepherds at night with Good News in which to bring,
A Savior’s been born to you today, who is a Prophet, Priest and King.
The shepherds filled with great joy praised The Lord from the start,
Mary hearing them praise her boy, pondered these things in her heart.
Visiting the Temple at age twelve Christ spoke with much insistence,
And speaking to Mary would tell her He’s about His Father’s business.
For Christ was not just another man but He is Almighty God Incarnate,
He was sent into The Holy Land and revealed as God’s final Prophet.
He was spoken of by Moses as the prophet like him, who would come,
And this Prophet knows all about us for He is God’s One and Only Son.
Many men were prophets in the past and used by God as He had willed,
And Jesus, my friend, was the last, as prophecy in Him was fulfilled.
The Old Testament economy of then since that time, friend has ceased,
And Jesus is now The Way for all men, from the greatest to the least.
No longer one ordained by men, Christ is our Heavenly Eternal Priest,
He is the final Priest my friend, to bring all men God’s Eternal peace.
The Jews mocked Jesus as a king, but that is exactly what Christ is,
And He’s coming back as Eternal King, with all those He knows as His.
He is the final revelation from God no matter what this world thinks,
And He’s coming with an iron rod to reign as Lord and King of Kings.
Whenever the names of the disciples are enumerated in the New Testament, St. Peter's stands at their head.
quote by John Strachan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Western Paper
Women throughout history have been generally looked upon as being the weaker sex, and to be the lesser of the two. The Old Testament and the New Testament gives two different views on how women were viewed in each of their times. Throughout these two, changes to christianity occured, and that is the justification behind the differences.
The Old Testament of the bible gives a description of how women were viewed during that time. It depicts what would now be considered obsurd practices of treating women. For example, women that were not married were not allowed to leave their fathers house, women were viewed mainly for child bearing, and that they were not allowed to appear in public venues. Specific references in the book of Genesis show that women were objectified and often used as sexual objects. After doing some research, the book of Exodus reveals that women were considered property of her father untill she became married, where then, ownership would transfer and she would become property of her new husband. Women were treated unjustly and unfairly during this time, and were regarded as being 'dirty' for being a woman.
The New Testament has somewhat of a mixed view on the equality of women to men, but it certainly gives more credit and justification to women being equal. There are still references in the New Testament to how women are considered unequal to men, but there are also new thoughts and ideas of equality of both sexes. Most blatently put, the book of John states that 'All people, men and women, have the opportunity to become children of god' implying that it was all inclusive, meaning both genders, all races, and all sexual orientations. In the same relation, the book of Galatians quotes 'There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus'.
The bible as a whole has mixed opinions on alot of things, and the standing of women is one of the indescrepencies that is shown. In the Old Testament more than the New Testament, women were objectified and looked down upon. They were viewed as property and as sexual objects. Men were quoted talking about having sex with a women against their will, and it also stated strict restrictions on how a woman should live her life. The New Testament began to shed a little bit more light on the subject, and started giving a little bit more credit and respect to women. Women, as far back as biblical times, have always been thought of as the lesser of the sexes. The contrast is prevalent between the standards of women in the Old and New Testament of the bible.
The arguement arises as to how sexist the bible is. Although I do not agree with the statement that the bible is sexist, I do believe that the way that the bible portrays women is unfair and that it is wrong to objectify women, but the bible ultimately says that God created men and women equal, and that Jesus Christ, the son of God, died for the sins of all people, not just for men.
Over the course of nature, and all the time of human existance on earth, women have be subjected to unfair treatment. The Old Testament gives a more harsh aspect to it, and the New Testament shows a litle bit more respect for women and their place in society. I think that christianity has become corrupt, but in the sense that people are caught up in the congregation aspect rather than the religious aspect of christianity, and are begining to miss the point, to fail to see what the main message in the bible really is.
Very Like a Whale
One thing that literature would be greatly the better for
Would be a more restricted employment by the authors of simile and
metaphor.
Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,
Can't seem just to say that anything is the thing it is but have to
go out of their way to say that it is like something else.
What does it mean when we are told
That that Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold?
In the first place, George Gordon Byron had enough experience
To know that it probably wasn't just one Assyrian, it was a lot of
Assyrians.
However, as too many arguments are apt to induce apoplexy and
thus hinder longevity.
We'll let it pass as one Assyrian for the sake of brevity.
Now then, this particular Assyrian, the one whose cohorts were
gleaming in purple and gold,
Just what does the poet mean when he says he came down like a
wold on the fold?
In heaven and earth more than is dreamed of in our philosophy
there are great many things.
But I don't imagine that among them there is a wolf with purple
and gold cohorts or purple and gold anythings.
No, no, Lord Byron, before I'll believe that this Assyrian was
actually like a wolf I must have some kind of proof;
Did he run on all fours and did he have a hairy tail and a big red
mouth and big white teeth and did he say Woof Woof?
Frankly I think it is very unlikely, and all you were entitled to say,
at the very most,
Was that the Assyrian cohorts came down like a lot of Assyrian
cohorts about to destroy the Hebrew host.
But that wasn't fancy enough for Lord Byron, oh dear me no, he
had to invent a lot of figures of speech and then interpolate them,
With the result that whenever you mention Old Testament soldiers
to people they say Oh yes, they're the ones that a lot of
wolves dressed up in gold and purple ate them.
That's the kind of thing that's being done all the time by poets,
from Homer to Tennyson;
They're always comparing ladies to lilies and veal to venison,
And they always say things like that the snow is a white blanket
after a winter storm.
Oh it is, is it, all right then, you sleep under a six-inch blanket of
snow and I'll sleep under a half-inch blanket of unpoetical
blanket material and we'll see which one keeps warm,
And after that maybe you'll begin to comprehend dimly
What I mean by too much metaphor and simile.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Whiter Than Snow
As the snow falls from up above, it falls down on the earth below.
It covers everything like a glove, with The Creator’s winter show.
But peeking out is a contrast of, the dark earth beneath the snow.
Soon the sun will return and then, the blanket of snow melts away.
Although it all was covered friend, the earth below is there to stay.
The ground will be exposed again, as before all that snow did lay.
The snow just like the rain will fall, whether it’s in the day or night.
And the snow creates a quiet lull, as it covers all within our sight.
But the ice and snow in its all, will surely dissipate come the light.
Friend, we also cover up in life, our deepest inner hurts and pain.
The inner anguish and the strife, along with thoughts we disdain.
The pains cut deep like a knife, as deep in the heart they remain.
Hidden deep there is also sin, which is hidden down in our heart.
The sin that is buried deep within, creates a much darkened part.
But men in Christ who trust in Him, God gives to them a new start.
Although ones life is like a harlot, Christ will show you how to go.
And though our sin is as scarlet, He’ll make us whiter than snow.
Christ will give you a New Spirit, and in The Spirit you will grow.
All of your sins Christ forgave, this back on the cross of Calvary.
Now matter how darkly depraved, on that cross He set you free.
It was you The Lord had saved, when Christ died upon that tree.
Your sin He did more than cover, for He has washed it all away.
Friend you will soon discover, that in your heart He came to stay.
There His Peace, He will uncover, to fill your heart night and day.
(Copyright ©12/2005)
Twilight in the Garden
The scent of the earth is moist and good
In the dewy shade
Of the tall, dark poplars whose slender tops
Against the sunset bloom are laid,
And a robin is whistling in the copse
By the dim spruce wood.
The west wind blowing o'er branch and flower
Out of the wold,
Steals through the honeysuckle bower
And bears away on its airy wings
Odors that breath of paradise;
Dim are the poppies' splendid dyes,
But many a pallid primrose swings
Its lamp of gold.
A white moth flits from tree to tree
Like a wandering soul;
Deep in the lily a muffled boom
Tells of a honey-drunken bee
Wildered with sweets in that ivory bowl;
Many a subtle melody,
Many a rare sound all unknown
To the lusty daylight's fuller tone
Threads with its magic this hush and gloom.
Many a dear thought deep in the heart,
Many a memory, dulcet and fine,
Wakes as we walk in the garden to-night,
In this soft kissing of dark and light,
When the world has drawn itself apart
From our spirit's shrine.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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The New Testament evinces its universal design in its very, style, which alone distinguishes it from all the literary productions of earlier and later times.
quote by Philip Schaff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living Joy
Past the broken dreams
Far past fountains of sorrow
No foul bird flies free
Hope is an endless tomorrow
Lay your fears by the way side
Diamond shores in the regal sun
Golden smiles from eternal sky
Today my journey has just begun
Soft voices from the tall pines
Summer roses in the heart of faith
Everything is growing deep inside
I know I shall be shown the way
Fountains flow in secret praise
The land of gardens opens wide
My soul transcends a world of pain
I see blossoms of yellow and white
Have you heard the stars singing
Song birds nest in every tree
In the valley the bells are ringing
My spirit has been set free
The moon shines like a mystic friend
Dawn is a sanctuary of eternal life
Over the mountains hope rises again
The darkness flees before the light
Living joy comes to the broken night
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Flowerbed
Placed in the midst
Of a twilight zone
My vision went hazy,
My fancy disoriented,
And while my failed dreams
Were in desperation
I had a glimpse
At the loveliest of faces.
Under a white veil.
I stole a glance of the loveliness
Of the countenance benign,
While lamenting
Over the distorted reflections
On the fragmented glass remains
Of my dreams
Of phenomenal dimension,
Which I had fondled
And renewed over the years.
Through your white veil
I stole a glimpse
Of a fascinating amalgam
Of beauty and compassion,
A flowerbed
Of exclusive red roses
Of dewy-freshness
Clad by a thin pall
Of a late winter snow
Of Kashmir Valley.
Through your white veil
I had a glimpse
Of the last oasis
Of my life
In the midst of
A harsh and fiery desert.
Through that white veil
I rejoiced the sight
Of a gorgeous painting
Drawn by a ceremony
Of profound colours.
Under the white veil
I had again a glimpse
Of a fairy of Ajanta fresco
Full of exquisite tenderness
And love of beauty.
Yet, always with a suspicion
Of something deeper
And transcendental.
Beneath the white veil
That embellished your face
Like a patch of snow cladding
The upper reaches of your abode
I had a glimpse
Of your soil and scenery
Of reflection and reality
In full bloom.
The Love Poem
Love is understanding
Love is compromise
Love is generosity
Love is sacrifice
Love does not discriminate
Love is free of charge
Love is the solution
Love is who we are
Love is universal
Love is heaven sent
Love was fastened to the cross
Love's greatest testament
Love is triumphant
Love is somersaults
Love is compassion
Love is free of fault
Love is forgiveness
Love offers a hand
Love is eternal
Love is His command
poem by Brian Dorn
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The Hindu Scriptures
If you followed the Manu,
The Hindus Old Testament,
You would be a criminal.
If you followed the Geetha,
The Hindu’s New testament,
You would be held insane.
The scriptures are meant to read
And preach to earn an image.
20.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My Dead Dream
HAVE YOU found me, at last, O my Dream? Seven eons ago
You died and I buried you deep under forests of snow.
Why have you come hither? Who bade you awake from your sleep
And track me beyond the cerulean foam of the deep?
Would you tear from my lintels these sacred green garlands of leaves?
Would you scare the white, nested, wild pigeons of joy from my eaves?
Would you touch and defile with dead fingers the robes of my priest?
Would you weave your dim moan with the chantings of love at my feast?
Go back to your grave, O my Dream, under forests of snow,
Where a heart-riven child hid you once, seven eons ago.
Who bade you arise from your darkness? I bid you depart!
Profane not the shrines I have raised in the clefts of my heart.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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White Wolf
She was the one and only indian girl
all that was left in her tribe
she gave so much in her world
a love you could'nt describe
all were left for dead
except this one who said..
Now my heart is like a White Wolf
that forever roams
different from the rest
that wander and can't see
all that use to be
They burned down all our homes
tortured and abused
she walked around confused
white man lies, we were used
She stood on top of a crest
wounds upon her chest
said this world is too far gone
like the White Wolf I go on alone
My heart turned into stone
tormented by their touch
they did just a little too much
this world now my crutch
She said I'm just a White Wolf here
no more will I walk in fear
they may have tried to break my spirit
still my soul is free
no longer will I fret
my will, will be done
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Now Here Again Is Spring
The day is now in sun high
And everything its pleasure
From winter's footfall try
Of dark and frost erasure
Now morning comes in glow
And glory songs of life
Before there were in snow
The footsteps of our strife
Now here again is spring
So full of life and green
From under winter's wing
That only gloom had seen
And every while is now fun
Of much light and flowers
For darkness deep’s on run
In every new coming hours
The yesterdays of sprung deep
In all its gray and dark
Are now whiles in joys sweep
With joy and light to spark
Come spring and sing again
With delight of life new born
And let old winter be in vain
With its loneliness outworn
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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oh yes, Mr. Shaun, the Bible was not written in English
The Gospel of Christ and, in general,
the Holy Bible are written with the inspiration of God.
The Prophets and the Apostles
have recorded in written form
a portion of the oral teaching of the Old Testament
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
These are the original languages of the Holy Bible from' which all the translations have been derived. God's inspiration is confined to the original languages and utterances, not the many translations. There are 1,300 languages and dialects into which the Holy Bible, in its entirety or in portions, has been
translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated.translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated.
This does not mean that the translations do not convey the meaning of the Bible for spiritual uprightness of the readers in their own language. On the contrary the Bible should be spread and preached to 'all nations'. The missionaries in foreign lands learn the language or the dialect of. the new area into which they bring the Bible and other religious teachings. For example, the missionaries from Constantinople, Saints Cyril and Methodios, sent to Christianize the Slavic peoples in the 9th century, first translated the Bible and the ritual books into the language of the people.
yes, Mr. Shaun, my friend the Bible was not written in English.IT was written in HEBREW, ARAMAIC, and GREEK....
But i like it written in English too, how i wish it were written in such a
language,
with a sense of class
and fashionable disguise,
for without it, how could i ever understand, God,
oh, my, God!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Illinois Village
O you who lose the art of hope,
Whose temples seem to shrine a lie,
Whose sidewalks are but stones of fear,
Who weep that Liberty must die,
Turn to the little prairie towns,
Your higher hope shall yet begin.
On every side awaits you there
Some gate where glory enters in.
Yet when I see the flocks of girls,
Watching the Sunday train go thro'
(As tho' the whole wide world went by)
With eyes that long to travel too,
I sigh, despite my soul made glad
By cloudy dresses and brown hair,
Sigh for the sweet life wrenched and torn
By thundering commerce, fierce and bare.
Nymphs of the wheat these girls should be:
Kings of the grove, their lovers strong.
Why are they not inspired, aflame?
This beauty calls for valiant song —
For men to carve these fairy-forms
And faces in a fountain-frieze;
Dancers that own immortal hours;
Painters that work upon their knees;
Maids, lovers, friends, so deep in life,
So deep in love and poet's deeds,
The railroad is a thing disowned,
The city but a field of weeds.
Who can pass a village church
By night in these clean prairie lands
Without a touch of Spirit-power?
So white and fixed and cool it stands —
A thing from some strange fairy-town,
A pious amaranthine flower,
Unsullied by the winds, as pure
As jade or marble, wrought this hour: —
Rural in form, foursquare and plain,
And yet our sister, the new moon,
Makes it a praying wizard's dream.
The trees that watch at dusty noon
Breaking its sharpest lines, veil not
The whiteness it reflects from God,
Flashing like Spring on many an eye,
Making clean flesh, that once was clod.
Who can pass a district school
Without the hope that there may wait
Some baby-heart the books shall flame
With zeal to make his playmates great,
To make the whole wide village gleam
A strangely carved celestial gem,
Eternal in its beauty-light,
The Artist's town of Bethlehem!
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Deep
blank stare
disrepair
there's a big black hole gonna eat me up someday
(but) someday
fades away
like a memory - or a place that you'd rather be
some place
lost in space
an itch in my head that's telling me somewhere
somewhere
out there anywhere I don't care get me out of here
if I could feel
all the pins and the pricks
if you were real
I could take what's apart and put it all back together now
this will come true
help me get through
into you
deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep
all I can do
driving me through
into you
deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep
one track
got you on your back
your skin speaks up but you lips couldn't say it
right now I know somehow
we could take the chance and we could make it make it
right here make it all disappear
everything that we've been missing missing
you make me feel
like there's a part of me
that I want to get back again
make this come true
help me get through
into you
deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep
all I can do
pushing it through
into you
deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep
all I can do
driving on through
into you
deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep
you're slipping through
I'm coming, too
into you
deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep
we could become
two into one
leave this behind
over and done
everything new
I'm getting through
into you
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Sky
In the deep blue sky
I see your eyes
Your always watching over me
The days im locked inside you have te key
Sometimes your touch is gentle like a deer
You can always take away my fear
Innocent like a snow white dove
Who is always filled with love
Deep inside my heart
Nothing stands to keep us apart
In the broken mirror i still see you
I know your here somewhere
Your my angel in the sky
And once i cross the oceans seas
Ill look into your eyes
And see im finally home
poem by Kerrie Maurer
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