The Gardener LXXXIV: Over the Green
Over the green and yellow rice-fields
sweep the shadows of the autumn
clouds followed by the swift-chasing
sun.
The bees forget to sip their honey;
drunken with light they foolishly hover
and hum.
The ducks in the islands of the river
clamour in joy for mere nothing.
Let none go back home, brothers,
this morning, let none go to work.
Let us take the blue sky by storm
and plunder space as we run.
Laughter floats in the air like foam
on the flood.
Brothers, let us squander our
morning in futile songs.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Brothers
Lets get to the point now
Just because weve got the same mum and dad
That dont mean im your keeper
That dont mean I owe anything to you
You dont care for me
And man I dont think that much of you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
You drove my car when we were young boys
And you tore it up too
You never paid to get it fixed
And you got me beat up a time or two
I know I should forgive and forget
But man I still hold a grudge against you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
It is as normal as it can be
This sibling rivalry
We should have dropped it at 22
But man I cant stand the things you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Youre always want something from me
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
It was so much fun having you in the family
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Now that were grown it aint helped nothin? at all
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
On my birthday, please dont bother to call
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, youre my brother brother brother
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When comes the morning?
When
comes the real morning?
When golden, the sun's rays hover
Over the earth's snow-cover,
And where the shadows nestle,
Wrestle,
Lifting lightward the root enringèd
Till it shall seem an angel wingèd,
Then it is morning,
Real, real morning.
But if the weather is bad
And my spirit sad,
Never morning I know.
No.
Truly, it's real morning,
When blossom the buds winter-beaten,
The birds having drunk and eaten
Are glad as they sing, divining
Shining
Great new crowns to the tree-tops given,
Cheering the brooks to the broad ocean riven.
Then it is morning,
Real, real morning.
But if the weather is bad
And my spirit sad,
Never morning I know.
No.
When
comes the real morning?
When power to conquer parries
Sorrow and storm, and carries
Sun to the soul, whose burning
Yearning
Opens in love and calls to others:
Good to be unto all as brothers.
Then
it is morning,
Real, real morning.
Greatest power you know
-And most dangerous, lo!-
Will you
this
then possess?
Yes.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Brothers Of The Road
By dickey betts & jim goff
Copyright 1981 pangola publishing co
Transcribed by paul gongola
Silent shadows of the night
Faded with the morning light
We just wrote another song
Maybe a word or two is wrong
Theres so much that could be said
Its hard to write it in a line
But when the final word is read
Maybe something could be said
For all the brothers of the road
Just like you, we bear a heavy load
Been through hell and back again
If we dont lose were bound to win
Somehow they gave it all a name
Just like a southern hurricane
We play our music like a storm
They say a brand new sound was born
Were all brothers of the road
Just like you, we bear a heavy load
Been through hell and back again
If we dont lose were bound to win
Some of us fell along the way
We came together, not too proud to pray
But the music must go on
So theres no one left out there all alone
Were just brothers of the road
Casting shadows in the night
Big wheels rolling on and on
But everythings gonna be all right
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Brothers
Two brothers on their way
Two brothers on their way
Two brothers on their way
One wore blue
And one wore grey
One wore blue and one wore grey
As they marched along the way
A fife and drum began to play
All on a beautiful morning
One was gentle, one was kind
One was gentle, one was kind
One came home, one stayed behind
A cannonball don't pay no mind
A cannonball don't pay no mind
Though you're gentle or you're kind
It don't think of the folks behind
All on a beautiful morning
Two girls waiting by the railroad track
Two girls waiting by the railroad track
For their darlings to come back
One wore blue, and one wore black
One wore blue, and one wore black
Waiting by the railroad track
For their darlings to come back
All on a beautiful morning
One wore blue, and one wore black
Waiting by the railroad track
For their darlings to come back
All on a beautiful morning
All on a beautiful morning
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Ask The Morning Light
I ASK THE MORNING LIGHT
I ask the morning light,
To give me a poem-
The morning light is quiet-
The fresh cool air
Freezes my hand
As I write.
The light is so bright
So yellow so blue so green.
The poem has been given-
I am alive.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To see the earth as it truly is, small and blue in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see riders on the earth together, brothers on that bright loveliness in the eternal cold - brothers who know now they are truly brothers.
quote by Archibald MacLeish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Personal Account Of Bees
Scholarly bees who attend college and graduate with high marks
go to dewy clover fields wet enough to prevent a scalded mouth,
dull bees are sent to Cleveland, to my house, and others nearby
where the gardens are limp green, plants like washed dollar bills
passed from hand to hand by men who work on production lines.
The local bees carouse, turnout pockets to purchase a good time,
sprawl, their legs open like girls taking sun the first day of summer.
I never see them eat from their tiny black lunch boxes, they hum
like choir boys, overshoot runways that are like ours, but round.
The bees are colorblind, deaf and they do not like blue Windex.
Arriving home exhausted they play card games before quarreling
or canning honey preserves, later they slip down striped underpants
and rest placing bald heads, shiny as the day they were born,
on paws tangled with paws of brothers who do not seem to mind,
they sleep no longer than it takes for a rain dropp to fall from heaven.
poem by Bernard Henrie
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Light Of A Clear Blue Morning
Its been a long dark night
And Ive been a waitin for the morning
Its been a long hard fight
But I see a brand new day a dawning
Ive been looking for the sunshine
cause I aint seen it in so long
But everythings gonna work out just fine
Everythings gonna be all right
Thats been all wrong
cause I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
And everythings gonna be all right
Its gonna be okay
Its been a long long time
Since Ive known the taste of freedom
And those clinging vines
That had me bound, well I dont need em
cause I am strong and I can prove it
And I got my dreams to see me through
Its just a mountain, I can move it
And with faith enough theres nothing I cant do
And I can see the light of a clear blue morning
And I can see the light of brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
And everythings gonna be all right
Its gonna be okay
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
Yes I can see the light of a clear blue morning
And everythings gonna be all right
Everythings gonna be all right
Everythings gonna be all right
Its gonna be okay
cause I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Yes I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Everythings gonna be all right
Its gonna be okay
I can see the light
I can see the light
Its gonna be all right
Its gonna be all right
Repeat...
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hello Africa
Hello africa are you still sleeping
Don’t you know that your God has brought another morning
Your brothers had cross the river already
And yet you are still not ready
You are the one that help them cross
Because you are the one that God give strength and force
Hello africa can tou hear me
To cross the river with speed light you can flee
Your brothers are waiting for you
But it is as if you did not want to go through
Hello africa are you dreaming
You need to wake up time is flying
Your sons are the vivid enemy
They embesseled your wealth making it their money
Hello africa you need to wake yp
Your brothers are anxious they did not want to stop
They are tired of helping you
They want to see you do
Hello africa I am inside you
Can you hear me your sons are looting you
Wake up africa wake up
You need to rise and stand up
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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The Coromandel Fishers
Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea!
No longer delay, let us hasten away in the track of the sea gull's call,
The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are our comrades all.
What though we toss at the fall of the sun where the hand of the sea-god drives?
He who holds the storm by the hair, will hide in his breast our lives.
Sweet is the shade of the cocoanut glade, and the scent of the mango grove,
And sweet are the sands at the full o' the moon with the sound of the voices we love;
But sweeter, O brothers, the kiss of the spray and the dance of the wild foam's glee;
Row, brothers, row to the edge of the verge, where the low sky mates with the sea.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Coromandel Fishers
Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea!
No longer delay, let us hasten away in the track of the sea gull's call,
The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are our comrades all.
What though we toss at the fall of the sun where the hand of the sea-god drives?
He who holds the storm by the hair, will hide in his breast our lives.
Sweet is the shade of the cocoanut glade, and the scent of the mango grove,
And sweet are the sands at the full o' the moon with the sound of the voices we love;
But sweeter, O brothers, the kiss of the spray and the dance of the wild foam's glee;
Row, brothers, row to the edge of the verge, where the low sky mates with the sea.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Living Against The River
(j.p. maunick)
In the early morning light you step into the cold
Your curses freeze mid air, the bus is late
Youve got to get to work on time, your job is on the line
Soon youll start again, the same routine
Deep inside your mind, the dreamers dream youll find
As the day is long, it keeps you moving on
Trying to stay ahead as best you can
Sweep away the notion of a revolution
Do it for yourself
Chorus:
(theres no stoppin)
(living against the river)
Do what you do what you do
(got to keep pushing)
(when youre living against the river)
Do what you do what you do
As the light begins to fade and youre heading back for home
Your head is hanging low, youre feeling blue
From the corner of your eyes, under neon lights you see
The old man in the snow with worn out shoes
Sweep away the notion of a revolution
Do it for yourself
Chorus
Repeat (fade)
song performed by by Incognito
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feelings on Watching the Moon
Time hard year famine life land empty
Brothers live abroad each east west
Fields gardens few fall shield spear after
Bone flesh flow apart road road on
Hang shadow separate like 10,000 li goose
Leave root apart rise 9 autumn dishevelled
Together look bright moon should fall tear
One night home heart 5 place alike The times are hard: a year of famine has emptied the fields,
My brothers live abroad- scattered west and east.
Now fields and gardens are scarcely seen after the fighting,
Family members wander, scattered on the road.
Attached to shadows, like geese ten thousand li apart,
Or roots uplifted into September's autumn air.
We look together at the bright moon, and then the tears should fall,
This night, our wish for home can make five places one.
a Greek Island of M.
YELLOW moon
with orange stains
islands of saffron
electric blue skies
marine blue horizon
shadows of islands
a black dome
light
inside a house of
prayer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Gardener XLII: O Mad, Superbly Drunk
O mad, superbly drunk;
If you kick open your doors and
play the fool in public;
If you empty your bag in a night,
and snap your fingers at prudence;
If you walk in curious paths and
play with useless things;
Reck not rhyme or reason;
If unfurling your sails before the
storm you snap the rudder in two,
Then I will follow you, comrade,
and be drunken and go to the dogs.
I have wasted my days and nights
in the company of steady wise neighbours.
Much knowing has turned my hair
grey, and much watching has made
my sight dim.
For years I have gathered and
heaped up scraps and fragments of
things:
Crush them and dance upon them,
and scatter them all to the winds.
For I know 'tis the height of wisdom
to be drunken and go the dogs.
Let all crooked scruples vanish,
let me hopelessly lose my way.
Let a gust of wild giddiness come
and sweep me away from my anchors.
The world is peopled with worthies,
and workers, useful and clever.
There are men who are easily first,
and men who come decently after.
Let them be happy and prosper,
and let me be foolishly futile.
For I know 'tis the end of all works
to be drunken and go to the dogs.
I swear to surrender this moment
all claims to the ranks of the decent.
I let go my pride of learning and
judgment of right and of wrong.
I'll shatter memory's vessel, scattering
the last drop of tears.
With the foam of the berry-red
wine I will bathe and brighten my
laughter.
The badge of the civil and staid
I'll tear into shreds for the nonce.
I'll take the holy vow to be worthless,
to be drunken and go to the dogs.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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How Many Shades Of Green
HOW MANY SHADES OF GREEN
How many shades of green
Olive green
Dark green
Light green
Yellow green
How many shades of yellow
Deep yellow
Rose yellow
Sun yellow
Morning light yellow
How many shades of light
How much light
How much Beauty in the world
How much Light-
How much- God.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Abstraction Fo The Word Chirp....
i hear birds chirping
early morning
on those trees
clouds arrive, light
spreads,
green becomes too green
in the fields of
life,
i hear birds chirping
sweet to my ear
i give it priority
abstract. delet morning
move out clouds from the picture
double click green fields
focus on life
delet birds
add volume to chirping
it is all chirping now
just chirping
chirping chirping
the essence of chirp.
i have abstracted it from
everything else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Come Back, Brother
I have brothers
Yet I know them not
They live far away
In the hearts of Americas
Down the lanes of London
In the far east sunshine
Seeking for the golden fleece
I have many brothers
Yet they are invisible
I am not acquainted with them
Yet they wire currencies to me
Vide the Western Union
I cannot touch them
Because they are far removed
I longed to see my brothers
I longed to touch them all
Let me embrace them once
Let me see them face to face
Come back home brothers
Come home to roost
Come home to rest
Come and take your deserted thrones
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Colors to Notice
While on morning walk today,
Thought emerges to describe the color
Of Mumbai sky, but can’t get the correct word:
It is aluminum-like, light gray,
Same wherever on the entire irregular patch
Of sky in Bandra, I am allowed to see through
Hedged in by trees, buildings and roofs.
As the eyes sweep down, the colors
Around me attract: green, blue,
Black, yellow, red BEST bus, the objects reflecting
There is no end to my counting:
In green alone I can see
Seventeen different shades.
Once I start enjoying the difference
Between one green and another
Luxuriant, shiny or dark,
Light-green, or parrot or bluish green
Or green seen against sunlight from below
Or with sunlight falling on the green leaves, -
In between remembering the sea-green incorruptible
Of Carlyle in his French Revolution
Or Lady Macbeth’s seas before becoming
Incarnadined -
Greens stretch unending in mind, and around,
Till suddenly the purple morning glory in front
Mocks me: while the special dark pink, above
Of bougainvillea blushes silently at stupid man
Who shows off his reading to Nature,
And makes up by waving and dancing gently.
Colors of Life and Nature are around me
Anywhere anytime:
I love them, including
Different black shadows in the dark.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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Blue Morning, Blue Day
Out in the street its 6 am, another sleepless night
Three cups of coffee, but I cant clear my head from what went down last night
No we wont have our own little ways, but somehow we keep it together
You hear me talk, but you dont hear what I say, I guess it dont even matter
Chorus:
Blue morning, blue day, wont you see things my way
Blue morning, cant you see, what your love has done to me
Ive always listened to your point of view, my ways are cut through men
And Ive always been a patient man, but my patience has reached its end
You tell me youre leaving, you tell me goodbye
You say you might send a letter
Well honey dont telephone, cause I wont be alone
I need someone to make me feel better
Chorus
(solo)
Chorus
(blue morning) blue morning, (blue morning) blue morning
(blue morning) blue morning, blue blue blue day, yeah
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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