The Menagerie
The rejected word 'peace'
At the beginning of an outraged era;
A church lamp in a grotto
And the air of mountain lands
An ether we did not want to,
Or would not breathe.
Again, with a goat-voice,
The shaggy reed-pipes sing.
While sheep and oxen grazed
On fertile pastures,
And friendly eagles perched
On the shoulders of sleepy crags --
A German reared an eagle,
A lion submitted to a Briton,
And a Gallic comb appeared
From a rooster's crest.
But now the savage has captured
The sacred mace of Heracles,
The black earth has dried up,
Ungrateful, as before.
I will get the withered wand
And draw the fire from it;
Let the startled beasts go away
With me into the deaf night.
The cock, the lion, the dark brown
Eagle, the affectionate bear --
We shall build a chamber for war,
And warm the wild beasts' hides.
But I sing the wine [*] of the times --
The font of Italic speech --
And in a Great-Aryan cradle,
Slavonic and Germanic flax!
Italy, is it really worth
Disturbing the chariots of Rome
For the clucking of a domestic bird
Flying across your fence?
And you, neighbor, don't seek damages;
The eagle bristles in anger.
What if for your sling
A heavy stone is of no use?
While the beasts are in the menagerie,
We will settle down a while,
The Volga stays at high tide,
The Rhine's current grows brighte --
The wise man will unwillingly honor
A foreigner as a demigod
With the revelry of a dance
On the shores of great rivers.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Even leaves beg me'' says Eagle
eagle, niggard and black
perched on sycomore on Nile bank
tasty fish gambolled in water
at lightening speed eagle caught
tasty fish and scrambled out
eagle flew and perched on a tree
man was under a tree
and glanced at what sat on tree
eagle and man eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying
''man may conjure him
by evil eyes''
eagle flew and perched on second tree
some birds were on that tree
Eagle and others birds eyes met at ninety angle
eagle flew away saying he
'' choke as birds watch him eating''
Eagle flew and perched on third tree
the breeze shook leaves of tree
eagle saw leaves unfolded shaking
like a begging hand
eagle flew away saying
'' everything beg me , even leaves
beg me too''
Eagle flew and perched on fourth withered tree
no birds, men and leaves around there
only exrtreme silence around there
eagle ate tasty fish
sang in loudest resounding voice
''eel fish and tasty fish are not the same
I ate tasyty fish until heart palpitated in happiness''
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Sumter In Ruins
I.
Ye batter down the lion's den,
But yet the lordly beast g'oes free;
And ye shall hear his roar again,
From mountain height, from lowland glen,
From sandy shore and reedy fen--
Where'er a band of freeborn men
Rears sacred shrines to liberty.
II.
The serpent scales the eagle's nest,
And yet the royal bird, in air,
Triumphant wins the mountain's crest,
And sworn for strife, yet takes his rest,
And plumes, to calm, his ruffled breast,
Till, like a storm-bolt from the west,
He strikes the invader in his lair.
III.
What's loss of den, or nest, or home,
If, like the lion, free to go;--
If, like the eagle, wing'd to roam,
We span the rock and breast the foam,
Still watchful for the hour of doom,
When, with the knell of thunder-boom,
We bound upon the serpent foe!
IV.
Oh! noble sons of lion heart!
Oh! gallant hearts of eagle wing!
What though your batter'd bulwarks part,
Your nest be spoiled by reptile art--
Your souls, on wings of hate, shall start
For vengeance, and with lightning-dart,
Rend the foul serpent ere he sting!
V.
Your battered den, your shattered nest,
Was but the lion's crouching-place;--
It heard his roar, and bore his crest,
His, or the eagle's place of rest;--
But not the soul in either breast!
This arms the twain, by freedom bless'd,
To save and to avenge their race!
poem by William Gilmore Simms
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The Caged Eagle
. . . I went the other day
To see the birds and beasts they keep enmewed
In the London Zoo. One of the first I saw —
One of the first I noticed, was an Eagle,
Ragged, befouled, within his iron bars
He sat without a movement or a sound,
And, when I stood and pitying looked at him,
I saw his great sad eyes that winkless gazed
Out to the horizon sky. I passed from there,
And walked about the gardens hither and thither,
Till all the afternoon was spent. Returning then
To seek my home, again by chance I passed
The Eagle's cage, and stood again and looked,
And saw his great sad eyes that winkless gazed
Out to the horizon sky. So I went home. . . .
The Eagle is Ireland.
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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The Departing of Gluskâp
It is so long ago; and men well-nigh
Forget what gladness was, and how the earth
Gave corn in plenty, and the rivers fish,
And the woods meat, before he went away.
His going was on this wise.
All the works
And words and ways of men and beasts became
Evil, and all their thoughts continually
Were but of evil. Then he made a feast.
Upon the shore that is beside the sea
That takes the setting sun, he ordered it,
And called the beasts thereto. Only the men
He called not, seeing them evil utterly.
He fed the panther's crafty brood, and filled
The lean wolf's hunger; from the hollow tree
His honey stayed the bear's terrific jaws;
And the brown rabbit couched at peace, within
The circling shadow of the eagle's wings.
And when the feast was done he told them all
That now, because their ways were evil grown,
On that same day he must depart from them,
And they should look upon his face no more.
Then all the beasts were very sorrowful.
It was near sunset, and the wind was still,
And down the yellow shore a thin wave washed
Slowly; and Gluskâp launched his birch canoe,
And spread his yellow sail, and moved from shore,
Though no wind followed, streaming in the sail,
Or roughening the clear waters after him.
And all the beasts stood by the shore, and watched.
Then to the west appeared a long red trail
Over the wave; and Gluskâp sailed and sang
Till the canoe grew little, like a bird,
And black, and vanished in the shining trail.
And when the beasts could see his form no more,
They still could hear him, singing as he sailed,
And still they listened, hanging down their heads
In long row, where the thin wave washed and fled.
But when the sound of singing died, and when
They lifted up their voices in their grief,
Lo! on the mouth of every beast a strange
New tongue! Then rose they all and fled apart,
Nor met again in council from that day.
poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
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On The Wings Of An Eagle
Oh, my home is in the mountains, I am free, I am free.
I am one with wind and eagles, I am free. Given wings to sail in gracefulness, the sky, the sky.
Given a voice to sing in breathlessness, I find that I can fly, fly away.
I've been a long time on the highway, I've been a long time on the run.
And it gets to be like chaos when I'm so long away from home.
And sometimes it's just to much to bare and I hide behind my eyes.
I can picture friendly faces and I can dream of friendly skies.
And I guess that I'm a lucky one for the truth of what I know.
For my heart had not denied me and I have somewhere to go.
I shall never be a prisoner of steel and glass and stone.
If I leave, I will return again to my Rocky Mountain home.
Oh, my home is in the mountains, I am free, I am free.
I am one with wind and eagles, I am free. Given wings to sail in gracefulness, the sky, the sky.
Given a voice to sing in breathlessness, I find that I can fly, fly away.
In the hands of my father, in the light of the sunshine. On the wings of an eagle, I'm flying again.
I'm flying again, I'm flying again, I'm flying again, I'm flying again.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Old Eagle.
An Eagle Stands on the top of cliff,
Waiting for a way West Wind,
It stands so long in waiting,
Just for the wind to come.
The right wind comes,
This eagle feels so lonely to start flying,
It is ready to fly six thousand miles away,
How a long and lonely journey to go?
Suddenly it wants to give up a great dream.
How a great eagle will struggle on its way?
Why it did not do it earlier and younger?
The right wind passes vainly with no use.
The pitiful eagle is growing older and older.
What will be the next great job for this eagle?
Oh poor eagle, take it easy don’t look up so high.
You are not the new hero at nowadays.
Suddenly a way west wind blows pass,
that only brings you a loneliness.
poem by Albert Wong
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Fire On The Hills
The deer were bounding like blown leaves
Under the smoke in front the roaring wave of the brush-fire;
I thought of the smaller lives that were caught.
Beauty is not always lovely; the fire was beautiful, the terror
Of the deer was beautiful; and when I returned
Down the back slopes after the fire had gone by, an eagle
Was perched on the jag of a burnt pine,
Insolent and gorged, cloaked in the folded storms of his shoulders
He had come from far off for the good hunting
With fire for his beater to drive the game; the sky was merciless
Blue, and the hills merciless black,
The sombre-feathered great bird sleepily merciless between them.
I thought, painfully, but the whole mind,
The destruction that brings an eagle from heaven is better than mercy.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Eagle and The Bear
The eagle's strength to compare that
of the bear this is how they fair the bear
can rip apart anything standing there
yet the eagle can fly through the air
the mighty physical strength of the bear must
stay on the ground in a limited area
around yet the eagle's strength of us do share
it's in every heart and on something's we wear
it shows the strength of the eagle for all to share
the eagle and the bear.
poem by David J. Pipkin
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What is man without the beasts If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected.
quote by Chief Seattle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Clouds of Changes!
Great clouds of changes loom upon the earth;
Like hungry lions, pow’rful nations prowl,
In search of newer prey of recent birth,
To devour by tactics always foul!
But, lions are not always courageous!
They threaten new-born ewes and kids and foals;
They dare not hunt adult beasts treacherous;
At times, they stoop to eat wild-dogs in holes!
Should not such lions question their valor?
Should they not choose equals to challenge then?
Should they keep roaring at beasts in dolor?
A lion should not live out of its den!
Yet, Wild dogs too can chase lions away!
Though powerful, a fool must lose some day.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-15-2007
poem by John Celes
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The Name Of The Game/eagle
Ive seen you twice, in a short time
Only a week since we started
It seems to me, for every time
Im getting more open-hearted
I was an impossible case
No-one ever could reach me
But I think I can see in your face
Theres a lot you can teach me
So I wanna know..
Whats the name of the game?
Does it mean anything to you?
Whats the name of the game?
Can you feel it the way I do?
Tell me please, cause I have to know
Im a bashful child, beginning to grow
And you make me talk
And you make me feel
And you make me show
What Im trying to conceal
If I trust in you, would you let me down?
Would you laugh at me, if I said I care for you?
Could you feel the same way too?
I wanna know..
The name of the game
I have no friends, no-one to see
And I am never invited
Now I am here, talking to you
No wonder I get excited
Your smile, and the sound of your voice
And the way you see through me
Got a feeling, you give me no choice
But it means a lot to me
So I wanna know..
Whats the name of the game? (your smile and the sound of your voice)
Does it mean anything to you? (got a feeling you give me no choice)
(but it means a lot)
Whats the name of the game? (your smile and the sound of your voice)
Can you feel it the way I do?
Tell me please, cause I have to know
Im a bashful child, beginning to grow
And you make me talk
And you make me feel
And you make me show
What Im trying to conceal
If I trust in you, would you let me down?
Would you laugh at me, if I said I care for you?
Could you feel the same way too?
I wanna know..
Oh yes I wanna know..
The name of the game (I was an impossible case)
Does it mean anything to you? (but I think I can see in your face)
(that it means a lot)
Whats the name of the game? (your smile and the sound of your voice)
Can you feel it the way I do? (got a feeling you give me no choice)
(but it means a lot)
Whats the name of the game? (I was an impossible case)
Does it mean anything to you? (but I think I can see in your face)
(that it means a lot)
(fade)
/
They came flying from far away, now Im under their spell
I love hearing the stories that they tell
Theyve seen places beyond my land and theyve found new horizons
They speak strangely but I understand
And I dream Im an eagle
And I dream I can spread my wings
Flying high, high, Im a bird in the sky
Im an eagle that rides on the breeze
High, high, what a feeling to fly
Over mountains and forests and seas
And to go anywhere that I please
As all good friends we talk all night, and we fly wing to wing
I have questions and they know everything
Theres no limit to what I feel, we climb higher and higher
Am I dreaming or is it all real?
Is it true Im an eagle?
Is it true I can spread my wings?
Flying high, high, Im a bird in the sky
(Im an eagle)
Im an eagle that rides on the breeze
High, high, what a feeling to fly
(what a feeling)
Over mountains and forests and seas
And to go anywhere that I please
And I dream Im an eagle
And I dream I can spread my wings
Flying high, high, Im a bird in the sky
(Im an eagle)
Im an eagle that rides on the breeze
High, high, what a feeling to fly
(what a feeling)
Over mountains and forests and seas
Flying high, high, Im a bird in the sky
(Im an eagle)
Im an eagle that rides on the breeze
High, high, what a feeling to fly
(what a feeling)
Over mountains and forests and seas
And to go anywhere that I please
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Images
WHAT if I bade you leave
The cavern of the mind?
There's better exercise
In the sunlight and wind.
I never bade you go
To Moscow or to Rome.
Renounce that drudgery,
Call the Muses home.
Seek those images
That constitute the wild,
The lion and the virgin,
The harlot and the child
Find in middle air
An eagle on the wing,
Recognise the five
That make the Muses sing.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Ghost Eagle Still Flies Ghost Skies
beauty solemnly slips from grief dark shadows
her eyes were soulful as dark as her hair shines
dance with life smile at his funeral an angel divine
his spirit flew in bright white blue mountain thermals
morning burn golden light upon life sacred mountain
eagle flies no more these spectral blue white skies
hunters came creeping shot free eagle as he soars flies
feelings ghost haunting hunt skies where eagle flies no more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Friendly Beast
Jesus our brother kind and good
Was humbly born I a stable of wood
And the friendly beasts around him stood
Jesus our brother kind and good
I said the donkey shaggy and brown
I carried his mother up hill and down
I carried her safely to bethlehem town
I said the donkey shaggy and brown
And I said the cow all white and red
I gave him my manger for a bed
I gave him my hay for to pillow his head
I said the cow all white and red
I said the sheep with a curly horn
I gave him my wool for his blanket warm
And he wore my coat on that christmas morn
I said the sheep with a curly horn
I said the dove from the rafters high
Cooed him to sleep that he should not cry
We cooed him to sleep my love and i
I said the camel yellow and black
Thus every beast remembering it well
In the stable dark was so proud to tell
Of the gifts that they gave emmanuel
The gifts that they gave emmanuel
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Eagle Cries
Another day, just like any other
out of the blue, it turned to horror
How could they? Why would they?
The innocents suffered hell's inferno
An senseless act that goes unforgotten
How could they? They will pay.
(Chorus)
When the Eagle Cries (5x)
Out of the ashes came a tempted vengeance,
but we are focused, we seek redemption
we are free, we'll stay free
All they've done, is make us stronger
The sleeping giant, is asleep no longer
If need be, we'll die free
(Chorus)
When the Eagle Cries (blood will flow)
When the Eagle Cries (for freedom's fight)
When the Eagle Cries (we love us all)
When the Eagle Cries (we'll sacrifice)
When the Eagle Cries
When the Eagle Cries (blood will flow)
When the Eagle Cries they made us stronger (for freedoms fight)
When the Eagle Cries we'll sacrifice (we love us all)
When the Eagle Cries for freedom's fight (we'll sacrifice)
When the Eagle Cries
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Zoo Animals
Zoo Animals
Jubilant Tripoli
Guns in every unsure hand
They call it freedom.
While zoo animals go unfed
A Kaddafi son cared for them.
It doesn’t matter now
Do not prioritize beasts
They are dumb beings
And have nothing to offer
In our blind struggle for freedom
And global capitalism.
So set the camels free to find
Their own oasis; let the lion
Roam the vast hinterland
And the eagle, soar high above
Human’s murderous pursuit.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Part Of The Machine
Everybodys jumping on the circus train.
Some jump high, some jump off again.
And the razzmatazz is rolling, women folk unveiled.
All truths to light, all crosses nailed.
Aiming high where the eagle circles ---
Where he keeps his tail feathers clean.
And wonders ''am I still a free bird?
Or just a part of the machine.
They hitch their coverd wagons and they roll out west.
Politics in the pockets of their sunday best.
Shaking hands, kissing babies, for all that theyre worth.
Oh, they promise you gold, promise heaven on earth.
Still, that old bald eagle circles ---
Its not the first time that hes seen
His reflection in the eyes of innocence.
Hes become just another
Part of the machine.
I wish I had an eagle like you ---
To look up to.
He could be my wings to fly in a big bird sky
Up above the whole machine.
Smart guys arent running --- theyre home and dry.
Up in the mountains where the eagle flies.
They wouldnt take that job
Offered on a plate.
They got to fly with the eagle, and he wont wait.
Looking down on the smoke and the factories
Till the truth creeps up unseen.
They see themselves in the faces of their children
And realize they too are
Part of the machine.
I wish I had an eagle like you ---
To wake up to.
He could be my wings to fly
In a big bird sky, hey ---
Lets be part of the machine.
Part of the machine.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First I shall name the eagle, of which there are three species: the great grey eagle is the largest, of great strength and high flight; he chiefly preys on fawns and other young quadrupeds.
quote by William Bartram
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(There Will Be) Peace In The Valley (For Me)
Oh well, Im tired and so weary
But I must go alone
Till the lord comes and calls, calls me away, oh yes
Well the morning's so bright
And the lamp is alight
And the night, night is as black as the sea, oh yes
There will be peace in the valley for me, some day
There will be peace in the valley for me, oh Lord I pray
There'll be no sadness, no sorrow
No trouble, trouble I see
There will be peace in the valley for me, for me
Well the bear will be gentle
And the wolves will be tame
And the lion shall lay down by the lamb, oh yes
And the beasts from the wild
Shall be lit by a child
And I'll be changed, changed from this creature that I am, oh yes
There will be peace in the valley for me, some day
There will be peace in the valley for me, oh Lord I pray
There'll be no sadness, no sorrow
No trouble, trouble I see
There will be peace in the valley for me, for me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Thought From The Rhine
I heard an Eagle crying all alone
Above the vineyards through the summer night,
Among the skeletons of robber towers:
Because the ancient eyrie of his race
Was trenched and walled by busy-handed men;
And all his forest-chace and woodland wild,
Wherefrom he fed his young with hare and roe,
Were trim with grapes which swelled from hour to hour,
And tossed their golden tendrils to the sun
For joy at their own riches:-So, I thought,
The great devourers of the earth shall sit,
Idle and impotent, they know not why,
Down-staring from their barren height of state
On nations grown too wise to slay and slave,
The puppets of the few; while peaceful lore
And fellow-help make glad the heart of earth,
With wonders which they fear and hate, as he,
The Eagle, hates the vineyard slopes below.
On the Rhine, 1851.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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