En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Dove

Out of the sunshine and out of the heat,
Out of the dust of the grimy street,
A song fluttered down in the form of a dove,
And it bore me a message, the one word--Love!

Ah, I was toiling, and oh, I was sad:
I had forgotten the way to be glad.
Now, smiles for my sadness and for my toil, rest
Since the dove fluttered down to its home in my breast!

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The Dove of Dacca

The freed dove flew to the Rajah's tower—
Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings—
And the thorns have covered the city of Gaur.
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove!
Little white traitor, with woe on thy wings!

The Rajah of Dacca rode under the wall;
He set in his bosom a dove of flight—
`If she return, be sure that I fall."
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove!
Pressed to his heart in the thick of the fight.

"Fire the palace, the fort, and the keep—
Leave to the foeman no spoil at all.
In the flame of the palace lie down and sleep
If the dove—if the dove—if the homing dove
Come, and alone, to the palace wall."

The Kings of the North they were scattered abroad—
The Rajah of Dacca he slew them all.
Hot from slaughter he stooped at the ford,
And the dove—the dove—oh, the homing dove!
She thought of her cote on the palace-wall.

She opened her wings and she flew away—
Fluttered away beyond recall;
She came to the palace at break of day.
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove,
Flying so fast for a kingdom's fall!

The Queens of Dacca they slept in flame—
Slept in the flame of the palace old—
To save their honour from Moslem shame.
And the dove—the dove—oh, the homing dove,
She cooed to her young where the smoke-cloud rolled!

The Rajah of Dacca rode far and fleet,
Followed as fast as a horse could fly,
He came and the palace was black at his feet;
And the dove—the dove—the homing dove,
Circled alone in the stainless sky.

So the dove flew to the Rajah's tower—
Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings;
So the thorns covered the city of Gaur,
And Dacca was lost for a white dove's wings.
Dove—dove—oh, homing dove,
Dacca is lost from the Roll of the Kings!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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From Spring Days to Winter (For Music)

In the glad springtime when leaves were green,
O merrily the throstle sings!
I sought, amid the tangled sheen,
Love whom mine eyes had never seen,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

Between the blossoms red and white,
O merrily the throstle sings!
My love first came into my sight,
O perfect vision of delight,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

The yellow apples glowed like fire,
O merrily the throstle sings!
O Love too great for lip or lyre,
Blown rose of love and of desire,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

But now with snow the tree is grey,
Ah, sadly now the throstle sings!
My love is dead: ah! well-a-day,
See at her silent feet I lay
A dove with broken wings!
Ah, Love! ah, Love! that thou wert slain -
Fond Dove, fond Dove return again!

poem by Oscar Wilde
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Unsung

WHEN shall I make a song for you, my love?
When you are nigh me?
Not so, for then the hours unnamed go by me,
Flocking like dove on dove.

When shall that song for you be found, my mate?
When I wait lonely?
Not so, for then am I a mourner only,
Begging without the gate.

Never in words that happy song will rise,
Yet you will feel it,—
Through days your love makes glad I shall reveal it,
Through years your love makes wise.

poem by Nettie Palmer
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Lonesome Dove

(written by carl jackson and larry cordle)
I hear a lonesome dove off in the distance
His cry echoes out through the hills
Hes sad that his lover flew off with another
And I know the sorrow he feels
Lonesome dove were not that different
You sing a sad song but youre not alone
Youve been forever forsaken by the one that you love
I know how you feel lonesome dove
Ive tried to run from the pain of his memory
But I cant find a place I can hide
And that old lonesome dove is gonna mourn for his love
No matter how far he flies
Lonesome dove were not that different
You sing a sad song but youre not alone
Youve been forever forsaken by the one that you love
I know how you feel lonesome dove

song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dove, My Beautiful One

My dove, my beautiful one,
Arise, arise!
The night-dew lies
Upon my lips and eyes.

The odorous winds are weaving
A music of sighs:
Arise, arise,
My dove, my beautiful one!

I wait by the cedar tree,
My sister, my love,
White breast of the dove,
My breast shall be your bed.

The pale dew lies
Like a veil on my head.
My fair one, my fair dove,
Arise, arise!

poem by James Joyce
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Wings Of A Dove

Let me fly in the wings of a dove
Above the Manhattan sky
So that all the yankies can see me
At least I will be safe in the wings of a dove
And I can sleep while I am fling in the wings of a dove
I love to fly in the wings of a dove
But the feeling of being high in the sky is great
But God gave me a chance to fly in the wings of a dove
When the opportunity came I didn't even think for a minute
I just jumped right in this opportunity
And I am glad I did it
Because I am having the greatest time when I am flying in the wings of a Dove
But I woke up at midnight and the sky was already dark
Eventhough the dove was still flying
The dove took me all the way to Chigago the windy city
Men I must tell you that it was very windy inthe sky in chicago
But we landed safe in Chicago by the shore
And I sleept in the shore of Chicago for the night
To me it was almost like being inside a movie scream when I woke up the next morning at the Shore of Chicago

poem by Aldo Kraas
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You And I Could Fly High Into The Blue Sky

If you were my morning dove
What is love dove
Could we fly through the air dove
Would it be enough
If you and I could fly
Could you and I try
Not to shed tears and cry
I will not lie

To thee my dove
You and I could fly high into the blue sky

poem by Edwin Tanguma
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Art

1

What precious thing are you making fast
In all these silken lines?
And where and to whom will it go at last?
Such subtle knots and twines!

I am tying up all my love in this,
With all its hopes and fears,
With all its anguish and all its bliss,
And its hours as heavy as years.

I am going to send it afar, afar,
To I know not where above;
To that sphere beyond the highest star
Where dwells the soul of my Love.

But in vain, in vain, would I make it fast
With countless subtle twines;
For ever its fire breaks out at last,
And shrivels all the lines.

2

If you have a carrier-dove
That can fly over land and sea;
And a message for your Love,
"Lady, I love but thee!"

And this dove will never stir
But straight from her to you,
And straight from you to her,
As you know and she knows too.

Will you first ensure, O sage,
Your dove that never tires
With your message in a cage,
Though a cage of golden wires?

Or will you fling your dove:
"Fly, darling, without rest,
Over land and sea to my Love,
And fold your wings in her breast"?

3

Singing is sweet; but be sure of this,
Lips only sing when they cannot kiss.
Did he ever suspire a tender lay
While her presence took his breath away?

Had his fingers been able to toy with her hair
Would they have then written the verses fair?
Had she let his arm steal round her waist
Would the lovely portrait yet be traced?

Since he could not embrace it flushed and warm,
He has carved in stone the perfect form.
Who gives the fine report of the feast?
He who got none and enjoyed it least.

Were the wine really slipping down his throat
Would his song of the wine advance a note?
Will you puff out the music that sways the whirl,
Or dance and make love with a pretty girl?

Who shall the great battle-story write?
Not the hero down in the thick of the fight.
Statues and pictures and verse may be grand,
But they are not the Life for which they stand.

poem by James Thomson
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Dove Sta Amore

Dove sta amore
Where lies love
Dove sta amore
Here lies love
The ring dove love
In lyrical delight
Hear love's hillsong
Love's true willsong
Love's low plainsong
Too sweet painsong
In passages of night
Dove sta amore
Here lies love
The ring dove love
Dove sta amore
Here lies love

poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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The Dove

I saw a dove fear-daunted,

By howling storm-blast driven;
Where waves their power vaunted,

From land it had been riven.
No cry nor moan it uttered,

I heard no plaint repeated;
In vain its pinions fluttered —

It had to sink, defeated.

poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, translated by Arthur Hubbell Palmer
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The dove of truth

The dove of truth is sitting in our garden
Our gaze inside the room
Light and truth just outside our window
Our eyes see only gloom

The dove of truth is making dovely sounds
Our ears like better beat and drum
Love and truth just outside our window
But our ears are deaf for them

The dove of truth is still sitting in our garden
Her message clearly there
Love and light just outside our window
But our egos would not care

If just our ego could be silenced
The dove of truth is never far away
Truth, light and love is all around,
Our soul will pray.

poem by Aufie Zophy
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At Last

Down, down like a pale leaf dropping
Under an autumn sky,
My love dropped into my bosom
Quietly, quietly.

There was not a ray of sunshine
And not a sound in the air,
As she trembled into my bosom--
My love, no longer fair.

All year round in her beauty
She dwelt on the tree-top high:
She danced in the summer breezes,
She laughed to the summer sky.

I lay so low in the grass-dews,
She sat so high above,
She never wist of my longing,
She never dreamed of my life.

But when winds lay bare her dwelling,
And her heart could find no rest,
I called--and she fluttered downward
Into my faithful breast.

I know that my love is fading;
I know I cannot fold
Her fragrance from the frost-blight,
Her beauty from the mould:

But a little, little longer
She shall contented lie,
And wither away in the sunshine
Silently, silently.

Come when thou wilt, grim Winter,
My year is crowned and blest
If when my love is dying
She die upon my breast.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Three Eternities

Lo, thou and I, my love,
And the sad stars above,-
Thou and I, I and thou!
Ah could we lie as now
Ever and aye, my love,
Hand within hand, my love,
Heart within heart, my dove,
Through night and day
For ever!

Lo, thou and I, my love,
Up in the sky above,
Where the sun makes his home
And the gods are, my love,
One day may wander from
Star unto star, my love,-
Soul within soul, my love,
Yonder afar
For ever!

Lo, thou and I, my love,
Some time shall lie, my love,
Knowing not night from day,
Knowing not toil from rest,-
Breast unto breast, my love,
Even as now for aye:
Clay within clay, my love,
Clay within clay
For ever!

poem by William Watson
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The Girls at Home

When the daylight fades on the tented field,
And the campfire cheerfully burns,
Then the Soldier's thought, like a carrier dove,
To his own love home returns;
Like a carrier dove -- a carrier dove,
And gleams beyond the foam,
So a light springs up in the Soldier's heart,
As he thinks of the Girls at Home.

When the shadows dance on the canvas walls,
And the camp with melody rings,
'Tis the good old song of the Stars and Stripes,
That the fireside circle sings;
Of the Stars and Stripes -- the Stars and Stripes --
For love of which they roam;
But the final song and the sweetest one,
Is the song of the Girls at Home.

Now the silver rays of a setting moon,
Thru' the lofty sycamores creep,
And the fires burn low, and the sentries watch
O'er the arm-ed host a-sleep;
And the sentries watch -- the sentries watch --
Till morning gilds the dome;
Till the rattling drum shall the sleepers rouse
From the dream of the Girls at Home.

poem by Henry Clay Work
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Cicely Bathing

The brook told the dove
And the dove told me
That Cicely's bathing at the pool
With other virgins three.

The brook told the dove
And the dove told me
That Cicely floating on the wave
Woke music in the tree.

The brook told the dove
And the dove told me
That Cicely's drying in the sun,
A snowy sight to see.

poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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First visitors to Adam and Eve

Christina thought that the lamb
and the dove
were sent to Adam and Eve
as preachers from God above
as tokens of His love
when they had to leave
the Garden of Eden
and was driven out
by angels with flaming swords

but I think sweet Eve had words
with the angels first and displaying
her well rounded behind
covered by deer skin
and looking so innocent
and yet luring
with her well rounded breasts
that the angels wondered what was sin
and where did truth and lie
mingle in?

Maybe a dog was the first
to find its master
after that great disaster
and wagging its tale
came running
as if nothing that humans did
made any difference
to the relationship
that it held with them.

Maybe beautiful Eve
saw a butterfly landing
on a flower near her
and then was touched
by its soft wings
caressing her, before it fluttered
away on the wind

and still I have to agree
that God held His hand over them
promising to send His Son
and the lamb and the dove
were only signs
of His everlasting love and grace
for the human race.

[Reference: Bird or Beast? By Christina Rossetti.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Dove! Dove! Enchanted Dove

Dove! Dove! Enchanted Dove
That sways around me,
Why are you afraid, white dove?
Hear my voice, dove, my sister.
From the resonant branches
Descend in my dance,
Descend upon my heart, dove of love!

And I dance and I sing and I dance once more,
I dance nude, dazzled and splendid,
Like a serpent in the high grass.
I dance and I rage in the air,
Like a flame from hell.

I dance bewinged, quivering and wild,
In the depth of the living whirlwind,
Whirling in the current that devours me,
The whirlwind in which I descend.
I dance until sated,
With soul drunked, staggering,
With the wine of dance,
And with the wine of my blood.

poem by Charles van Lerberghe
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Spring Song

A BLUE-BELL springs upon the ledge,
A lark sits singing in the hedge;
Sweet perfumes scent the balmy air,
And life is brimming everywhere.
What lark and breeze and bluebird sing,
Is Spring, Spring, Spring!
No more the air is sharp and cold;
The planter wends across the wold,
And, glad, beneath the shining sky
We wander forth, my love and I.
And ever in our hearts doth ring
This song of Spring, Spring!
For life is life and love is love,
'Twixt maid and man or dove and dove.
Life may be short, life may be long,
But love will come, and to its song
Shall this refrain for ever cling
Of Spring, Spring, Spring!

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Yvonne of Brittany

In your mother's apple-orchard,
Just a year ago, last spring:
Do you remember, Yvonne!
The dear trees lavishing
Rain of their starry blossoms
To make you a coronet?
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
As I remember yet?

In your mother's apple-orchard,
When the world was left behind:
You were shy, so shy, Yvonne!
But your eyes were calm and kind.
We spoke of the apple harvest,
When the cider press is set,
And such-like trifles, Yvonne,
That doubtless you forget.

In the still, soft Breton twilight,
We were silent; words were few,
Till your mother came out chiding,
For the grass was bright with dew:
But I know your heart was beating,
Like a fluttered, frightened dove.
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
That first faint flush of love?

In the fulness of midsummer,
When the apple-bloom was shed,
Oh, brave was your surrender,
Though shy the words you said.
I was glad, so glad, Yvonne!
To have led you home at last;
Do you ever remember, Yvonne,
How swiftly the days passed?

In your mother's apple-orchard
It is grown too dark to stray,
There is none to chide you, Yvonne!
You are over far away.
There is dew on your grave grass, Yvonne!
But your feet it shall not wet:
No, you never remember, Yvonne!
And I shall soon forget.

poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Wings Of A Dove

Take time for your pleasure
And laugh with love
Take the hand of another
And sing for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Look up at the rooftops
When youre walking round
Dont think for a moment
Of looking down
Woah woah, (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah) for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Ha-lellujah (lellujah)
Ha-lellujah (lellujah)
Look up at the rooftops (the roof)
When youre walking round
Dont think for a moment
Of looking down
At a room at the top
Where were not allowed
Cheer to the echo
Can you hear the sound
Woah woah, (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah) for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, (yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah) for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Yeah yeah yeah (etc.)
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Woah woah, for the wings of a dove
Et cetera
Blue train!
Blue train taking me from you....

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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