The thick golden stream of honey took so long
1
The thick golden stream of honey took so long
To pour, our host had time to say:
'Here in the dismal Taurides, where fate has brought us,
We don't get bored at all' -- and she looked over her shoulder.
2
The services of Bacchus everywhere, as if on earth
Were only guards and dogs. You go along, you notice no one --
Like heavy barrels, the peaceful days roll by:
Far off. Voices in a hut: you cannot understand, nor reply.
3
After tea, we went out in the huge brown garden,
The dark blinds were lowered like eyelashes.
Past white columns, we went to look at the grapes,
Where the drowsy mountains are glazed with airy glass.
4
I said: the vines live like an ancient battle
Where curly-headed horsemen fight in twisted order.
The science of Hellas in the stony Tauride -- and here
There are the noble, rusty rows of golden acres.
5
Silence stands in the room white as a spinning wheel,
From the cellar, smells of paint, vinegar, fresh wine.
Remember, in the Greek house: the woman loved by everyone --
Not Helen -- another -- how long she embroidered?
6
Golden fleece, where are you, golden fleece?
The sea's heavy waves roared the whole way.
Abandoning the ship, its canvas worn out on the seas,
Odysseus returned, full of space and time.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Related quotes
Bologna: A Poem About Gold
Give me this time, my first and severe
Italian, a poem about gold,
The left corners of eyes, and the heavy
Night of the locomotives that brought me here,
And the heavy wine in the old green body,
The glass that so many have drunk from.
I have brought my bottle back home every day
To the cool cave, and come forth
Golden on the left corner
of a cathedral's wing:
White wine of Bologna,
And the knowing golden shadows
At the left corners of Mary Magdalene's eyes,
While St. Cecilia stands
Smirking in the center of a blank wall,
The saint letting her silly pipes wilt down,
Adoring
Herself, while the lowly and richest of all women eyes
Me the beholder, with a knowing sympathy, her love
For the golden body of the earth, she knows me,
Her halo faintly askew,
And no despair in her gold
That drags thrones down
And then makes them pay for it.
Oh,
She may look sorry to Cecilia
And
The right-hand saint on the tree,
But
She didn't look sorry to Raphael,
And
I bet she didn't look sorry to Jesus,
And
She doesn't look sorry to me.
(Who would?)
She doesn't look sorry to me.
She looks like only the heavy deep gold
That drags thrones down
All day long on the vine.
Mary in Bologna, sunlight I gathered all morning
And pressed in my hands all afternoon
And drank all day with my golden-breasted
Love in my arms.
poem by James Arlington Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jason And The Argonauts
(Andy Partridge)
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release
Oh, my head is spinning like the world and it's filled with beasts I've seen,
Let me put my bag down and I'll tell you it all right from the start,
Like the scarlet woman who would pick on the boys she thought were green,
And the two faced man who made a hobby of breaking his wife's heart.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like Jason and the Argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release
I was in a land where men force women to hide their facial features,
And here in the west it's just the same but they're using make-up veils.
I've seen acts of every shade of terrible crime from man-like creatures,
And I've had the breath of liars blowing me off course in my sails.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like Jason and the Argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release.
I have watched the manimals go by
Buying shoes, buying sweets, buying knives.
I have watched the manimals and cried
Buying time, buying ends to other peoples lives.
Jason and the Argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release.
Jason and the Argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches I'll release.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jason & The Argonauts
(andy partridge)
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release
Oh, my head is spinning like the world and its filled with beasts Ive seen,
Let me put my bag down and Ill tell you it all right from the start,
Like the scarlet woman who would pick on the boys she thought were green,
And the two faced man who made a hobby of breaking his wifes heart.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release
I was in a land where men force women to hide their facial features,
And here in the west its just the same but theyre using make-up veils.
Ive seen acts of every shade of terrible crime from man-like creatures,
And Ive had the breath of liars blowing me off course in my sails.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
I have watched the manimals go by
Buying shoes, buying sweets, buying knives.
I have watched the manimals and cried
Buying time, buying ends to other peoples lives.
Jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
Jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jason & The Argonauts
(andy partridge)
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release
Oh, my head is spinning like the world and its filled with beasts Ive seen,
Let me put my bag down and Ill tell you it all right from the start,
Like the scarlet woman who would pick on the boys she thought were green,
And the two faced man who made a hobby of breaking his wifes heart.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release
I was in a land where men force women to hide their facial features,
And here in the west its just the same but theyre using make-up veils.
Ive seen acts of every shade of terrible crime from man-like creatures,
And Ive had the breath of liars blowing me off course in my sails.
Seems the more I travel,
From the foam to gravel,
As the nets unravel,
All exotic fish I find like jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
I have watched the manimals go by
Buying shoes, buying sweets, buying knives.
I have watched the manimals and cried
Buying time, buying ends to other peoples lives.
Jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
Jason and the argonauts
There may be no golden fleece,
But human riches Ill release.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden Opportunity
(ian hunter)
The kids are ok
Theyre telling you now
But youre letting them down
Cause you just dont know how
And its a golden opportunity
Im spinning in space
Im laughing away
Your so pathetic
I can just hear them say
Its like a golden opportunity
You better hear it
See hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
Get near it
Its a golden opportunity
We reckon theyre rats
Now see how they run
My house is so common
And were dumb were so dumb
And its a golden opportunity
Scream all you suckers
Scream all you can
Im losing my bluff
Its a scam its a scam
And its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it hear it
Its like a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it hear it
Its like a golden opportunity
Alright!
You better hear it hear it
Hear it hear it
Its a golden opportunity
Hear it
Hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it
Its a golden opportunity
You better hear it
You better hear it
Its a golden opportunity
(fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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September Song
Oh its a long long time from may to december
And the days grow short when you reach september
When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame
And you aint got time for waiting game
When days dwindle down to a precious few
September november, and these few golden days Id share with you
Those golden days I share with you
When the days dwindle down to a precious few
September november, and all those golden days Id share with you
Those golden days Id share with you
Those golden days Id share with you
Those golden days Id share with you
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mother Exultant
Joy! Joy! Joy!
The hills are glad,
The valleys re-echo with merriment,
In my heart is the sound of laughter,
And my feet dance to the time of it;
Oh, little son, carried light on my shoulder,
Let us go laughing and dancing through the live days,
For this is the hour of the vintage,
When man gathereth for himself the fruits of the vineyard.
Look, little son, look:
The grapes are translucent and ripe,
They are heavy and fragrant with juice
They wait for the hands of the vintagers;
For a long time the grapes were not,
And were in the womb of the earth,
Then out of the heavens came the rain,
The sun sent down his warmth from the sky,
At the touch of life, life stirred,
And the earth brought forth her fruits in due season.
I was a maid and alone,
When, behold, there came to me a vision;
My heart cried out within me,
And the voice was the voice of God.
Yea, a virgin I dreamed of love,
And was troubled and sore afraid,
I wept and was glad,
For the word of my heart named me blesse'd,
My soul exhalted the might of creation.
I was a maid and alone,
When, behold, my lover came to me,
My belove'd held me in his arms.
Joy! Joy! Joy!
Now is the vision fulfilled;
I have conceived,
I have carried in my womb,
I have brought forth
The life of the world;
Out of my joy and my pain,
Out of the fulness of my living
Hath my son gained his life.
Look, little son, look:
The grapes are ripe for gathering;
The fresh, deep earth is in them,
And clean water from the clouds.
And golden, golden sun is in the heart of the grapes.
Look, little son, look:
The earth, your mother,
And the touch of life who is your father,
They have provided food for you
That you also may live.
The vineyards are planted on the hillside,
They are the vineyards of my belove'd,
He chose a favorable spot,
His hands prepared the soil for the planting;
He set out the young vines
And cared for them till the time of their bearing.
Nopw is his labour fulfilled who worked with God.
The fruit of the vineyard is ripe,
The vintagers laugh in the sun,
They sing while they gather the grapes,
For the vintage is a good one,
The wine vats are pressed down and running over.
Joy! Joy! Joy!
Now is the wonder accomplished;
Out of the heat of the living grape
Hath the hand of my belove'd
Wrung the wine of the dream of life.
Belove'd,
My little son's father,
Together we have given life,
And the vision of life;
Shall we not rejoice
Who have made eternal
The days of our living.
Look, little son, look:
The grapes glow with rich juice;
The juice of the grape hath in it
The substance of the earth,
And the air's breath;
It hath in it the soul of the vintage.
Put forth your hand, little son,
And take for yourself the life
That your father and your mother
Have provided for you.
Joy! Joy! Joy!
The halls are glad,
The valleys re-echo with merriment,
In my heart is the sound of laughter,
And my feet dance to the time of it;
Oh, little son, carried light on my shoulder,
Let us go laughing and dancing through the live days,
For this is the hour of vintage,
When man gathereth for himself the fruits of the vineyard.
1905
poem by Adelaide Crapsey
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September Song
When I was a young man courting the girls
I played me the waiting game
If a maid refused me with a tossing curls, oh,
I let the old earth, take a couple of whirls
While I plied her with tears in prays of pearls
And as time came around she came my way
As time came around she came
For its a long, long while, from May to December
And the days grow short, when you reach September
And I have the lost my tears, and the walking in the little rain
Hey honey, I haven't gotta time for gaining Waiting Game
And the days turn to crawl(?grow old?) as they grow few
September, November
And these few colden(?golden?) days I'd like to spend 'em with you
These golden days, I'd like to spend 'em with you
And the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November
And I'm not quite a quip for the waiting game
I have a little money, and I have a little pain
And these few golden days, as the days grow so few
These golden days, I'd like to spend 'em with you
These precious golden days, I'd like to spend 'em with you
September song, September song
September song, September song
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Cup
The golden cup,
I will now make them husband and wife!
For Edward was his son and Ethel was her daughter,
But the muse of love brought them together.
The sun fell on my knees and i said,
'Who shall bring me closer again to your love'?
And to weep in secret for the golden cup because,
The silence of the room made me remember!
They took the boy and cried out loud!
But what have they done to the girl?
And from Kenya to see my own people,
For the golden cup is now on the table at last.
Oh, if i could look on her sweet face once again;
And like the silent water slipping down from the hills;
For my lovely Isle is now far from me.
Things seen are not always righteous than things heard,
For my fingers went into the wet earth;
And the things known are higher than the things learnt,
For the reflections of the golden cup directed my moves.
It is better to leave an excavator concealed!
So do not give your brains a racking to lacking;
And like the blast of the doom without the golden cup.
This story is almost five hundred years old,
And it is very deep and very wide to sing with your muse;
For the candle-flame is sprinkled with slat,
And like your shoes so laid on the mat.
Down it came without the golden cup,
But put him into his own native cot;
And bring me a glass of the red wine,
For who will pity the lonely man at bay?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Carlyn's Poem (1976 chapbook) (density ****)
'Seven Golden Daffodils' came to me
And peace to try at poetry
'Seven Golden Daffodils' touched my days
A life reshaping in new ways.
Orange sun and frosted mount
Emerald isles in silver laced seas
White sloop from fable named Halcyone.
Wine that caught the fire's glow
Enchanting melodies from silver strings
Golden flames - cracked sparks to fling.
Faces that returned a smile
Friendship warming as a child
Flying feet on oaken floors
All of this and even more.
poem by Bill Grace
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The Golden Whistler
Golden bird whose golden voice,
When the summer days wax long
Cheery optimist from choice
Bids the feathered world rejoice
With full many a varied song
From the tree-tops flinging free
Golden bursts of melody.
Golden notes for golden hours
Where the sunlit waters gleam,
And the fragrant wattle flow'rs
Swoon in scented golden show'rs
To the bosom of the stream,
Singing, swinging, fluting high
None so gay, so glad as I.
Golden in the dawn's first hush
Sounds my matin, loud and long,
With a sweet, spontaneous rush,
Vying with harmonious thrush
For the bushlands Crown of Song
As the golden eye grows dim,
Sounds my joyous vesper hymn.
Golden minstrel, justly framed,
Greeted ere with grateful words
Long ere this my song has shamed
Him who fatuously named
This a land of songless birds
Seek you solace, seek you balm,
Hearken to my golden psalm.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Finding is the first Act
870
Finding is the first Act
The second, loss,
Third, Expedition for
The "Golden Fleece"
Fourth, no Discovery—
Fifth, no Crew—
Finally, no Golden Fleece—
Jason—sham—too.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Chains Of Gold
Chains of gold
worn around a
neck
slipped there
long ago
keeps her
optimistic
like a golden
fleece
in search of
the prize
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gold
We rovers bold,
To the land of Gold,
Over the bowling billows are gliding:
Eager to toil,
For the golden spoil,
And every hardship biding.
See! See!
Before our prows' resistless dashes
The gold-fish fly in golden flashes!
'Neath a sun of gold,
We rovers bold,
On the golden land are gaining;
And every night,
We steer aright,
By golden stars unwaning!
All fires burn a golden glare:
No locks so bright as golden hair!
All orange groves have golden gushings;
All mornings dawn with golden flushings!
In a shower of gold, say fables old,
A maiden was won by the god of gold!
In golden goblets wine is beaming:
On golden couches kings are dreaming!
The Golden Rule dries many tears!
The Golden Number rules the spheres!
Gold, gold it is, that sways the nations:
Gold! gold! the center of all rotations!
On golden axles worlds are turning:
With phosphorescence seas are burning!
All fire-flies flame with golden gleamings!
Gold-hunters' hearts with golden dreamings!
With golden arrows kings are slain:
With gold we'll buy a freeman's name!
In toilsome trades, for scanty earnings,
At home we've slaved, with stifled yearnings:
No light! no hope! Oh, heavy woe!
When nights fled fast, and days dragged slow.
But joyful now, with eager eye,
Fast to the Promised Land we fly:
Where in deep mines,
The treasure shines;
Or down in beds of golden streams,
The gold-flakes glance in golden gleams!
How we long to sift,
That yellow drift!
Rivers! Rivers! cease your goings!
Sand-bars! rise, and stay the tide!
'Till we've gained the golden flowing;
And in the golden haven ride!
poem by Herman Melville
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It T'was...
It t'was in the Evergreen moment...
Of the days of Roses and Wine
Long into the Golden-Gated past
To a time-when you were, all mine;
It t'was a moment of magic-everlasting
Of me, the Elusive Rose and Thee
Cocooned in our own labyrinth of sweet passion
Sharing a love, as deep, as the endless sea;
It t'was in the time of Virgin blossoming...
Heralded in by you my Divine Knight
You were a mighty force to be reckoned with
Plucking my petals, in seeming delight;
O' the memories called out to me
O'er the years and miles of my lifetime
Long into the Golden of Golden Remembrances
Recalling joyfully-to a time- when you were still mine;
By: Theodora Onken
December 5,2011
poem by Theodora Onken
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Cloud Dreaming
I remember it so well...
Almost, as if it were yesterday
Laying out in the backyard
of my parent's white,
clapboard house on Main Street
Stretched out, on the soft, cool, green grass
Feelng the warm, golden, afternoon sun
Shining down on my small, child's face
Just hoping...
It would paint light, brown freckles
On my tiny, little girl's upturned nose
Oh, I could lie there for hours and hours
Gazing up at those soft, candy cotton clouds
Trying to decide which one looked like a kitten
An elephant, or perhaps a fairy princess
Riding off on a white, thundering pony
Into 'Nowhere land'...
The land of angels and magic
Fairies, with long, golden tresses
Bewitching elves and fairy tales
Memories can be very wonderful
Makes us wish we were kids again...
Doesn't it?
~
poem by ANNE P LadeeAnne MURRAY
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Early one afternoon
Early one afternoon
I walked through the streets
of a small village
and it had to be in Italy
and was probably in Corona
or Tuscany.
a Baker with a white overcoat
and white hat on his head
rang on his bike’s bell for me
and pedalled pass,
with an old green bike
at the Pizza Palour.
There were long white breads
and green wine bottles,
in the baskets of his bicycle
and he had a big bush
of red blue lanvender flowers in one hand.
Across from me there were three small tables
with white table-covers,
at the Villa Toscana
and I could read some dishes
from the menu on the wall.
At the wall a young woman
with dark hair and an indigo dress
laughed sharp and bright,
while she waited
that a well built waitress
pour some more wine.
The image of the beautiful waitress
with black hair and deep dark eyes,
that bends forward
still stays with me.
In front of me at Le Art
there were a row of paintings,
depicting nudes to the finest detail
on painter’s easels.
I walked nearer
and I could see rows of violet lavender bushes
against the ridge in the distance
and Villa’s, that stand yellow gold
up on the hill
and looked impressive
against the deep blue sky.
When I got back to myself
I was at the fountain
in front of the mural
in our garden
and the golden Persian cat,
watched me from the top of the wall
with a woolly tail that curled down
and it looked with golden eyes at me.
[Reference: Tuscan mural by Mandi. See the painting at my webpage: http: //www.mabooki.com/poems/display/1417_Early_one_af ternoon.htm]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Our Flag (Philippines)
Red, white an’ blue
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Symbol of sovereignty
Seal of authority
In war n’ peace
Overrides injustice
Prosper’ty booms
As if flower garden blooms
Red, white an’ blue
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Proud and brave
Overcome ocean waves
Against foreign aggression
And eminent invasion
Let all be gone
Exter-internal agon
Red, white an’ blue,
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Icon of mighty n’ power
As tall as d’ highest tower
Sturdy as stone pyramid
Withered d’ storm’s eyelid
Remains eminent mornin’ after
Victors of no banter
Red, white an’ blue,
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Geniuses for heroes,
Dies under bolos an’ arrows
Rebels thru pen an’ paper
Motherland in blooper
Executes nation’s sons
Sacred ground n’ crimson
Red, white an’ blue
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Fathers, mothers,
Sisters an’ brothers,
Looks up to azure sky
Pledges no more to shy
Vowed nev’r to be slaved
Soldiers nev’r to enslave
Red, white an’ blue
Three golden stars an’ a sun
Together we endure an’ cry
Ready to defend an’ die
To fight corruption an’ tyranny
Locates, defeats terrorism’s nanny
At day ends our nation’s free
From all crisis’ spree
poem by Noel Horlanda
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Salted With Love
It must be salted,
It must be roated over an open fire!
It must be koshered,
It must be soaked in salt water,
For there is no red carpet in heaven!
But it is only the white carpet of peace and love.
Love your partner everyday,
Ten thousand times ten thousand!
Because Rome was not built in a day,
And we all need to be guided by the laws!
The last great day is between the two evenings,
And without blemish between the two legs;
For the silver trumpet is between the two lips.
Ten years of pain in Satan's room and,
Five years of joy there after;
But the earth is full of water and,
Many are still without water.
It must be salted,
And bewteen the two eyes to show some love;
For the golden tree and the golden box are closer always.
Put the golden tree into the golden box,
And let me teach you more about love;
For the white carpet in the heavens are full of laws,
And we have to live by the rule of law.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Fairy Tale
Rockets drizzle in the yellow sunshine;
What a mask-like throng in the old park.
Landscapes are mirrored in the gray sky
And sometimes one hears the faun scream dreadfully.
Its golden grin appears garishly in the grove.
In cresses the bumblebees' thick of battle clamors,
A rider trots past on a sallow white horse.
The poplars glow in vague rows.
The little girl who drowned in the pond today
Rests as a saint in the bleak room
And a glimmer of clouds often blinds her.
The old people go into the hothouse dully and ill
And water their flowers which wither.
At the gate voices whisper dream-confused.
poem by Georg Trakl
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