The Mercurial Nepalese!
The ravishing views of hills,
vales and falls and the luxuriant paddy fields,
the rushing down of streams,
the rivers vending their long course
chanting hymns of praise
of the realm of Himalayas,
filled my mind and heart
and lulled me into a nap.
When the Sun was peeping out
we fell into the web of touts
at Peerganj near Indias’ border.
When the hills hid into dark,
we reached our dreamy Kathmandu.
The leal Nepalese toil and moil
on a soil atop the earth.
They chain the rubble to fence the road
and drive the vehicles with unknown ease.
They dote on the poor Tibetans
and treat the aliens as of their kin.
Lord Siva in his hallowed abode
reigns supreme in that rarified hills
on the bank of a booming creek.
Lord Vishnu in a recumbent state
enthralls the worshippers.
We roamed over the rotunda
built in memory of Buddha.
A medley crowd of all races
meet, talk, wonder and depart.
The rustic manners of the Nepalese,
the marts where the briskets
of bulls, pigs and goats kept open
with their horns and tails aside,
at the early dawn evoked smiles from us.
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Related quotes
The Other Half
Over the hills, lies a new beginning
Over the hills
Over the hills, there is a way I know it
Over the hills
You can't bring all the gloom
Your heart is frayed and so empty
You glorify the future
Living in a different world than me
The journey ends in death
You are giving up so easily
You are the other half of me
Over the hills [4x]
We are drifting apart
Chilled to the marrow, cause you don't want to go
Cause we've got a different wish at heart
The amulet guides us to the other side
When I go down it's you who'll bleed
I'm not scared to die, as long as I'm with you
You are the other half of me
Over the hills, lies a new beginning
Over the hills
Over the hills, there's a way I know it
Over the hills
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Other Half (of Me)
Over the hills lies a new beginning
Over the hills
Over the hills, there is a way, I know it
Over the hills
You cant bring all the gloom
Your heart is frayed and so empty
You glorify the future
Living in a different world than me
The yourney ends in death
You are giving up so easily
You are the other half of me
Over The Hills (x4)
We are drifting apart
Chilled to the marrow
cause you dont want to go
cause weve got a different wish at heart
The amulet guides us to the other side
When I go down, its you wholl bleed
Im not scared to die as long as Im with you
You are the other half of me
Over the hills lies a new beginning
Over the hills
Over the hills, there is a way, I know it
Over the hills
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He’ll Be With Me
What’s ahead, I may not know, but, God will direct the way to go,
While on God’s promises I stand, He will guide me with His Hand,
Opening doors and closing some, God will lead in days to come,
Through the valley and over the hills, I will follow as my Lord wills.
The will of God can’t be frustrated, and His plans are not belated,
Whether hills or valleys my friend, my God will see me to the end,
While in the valley, dark as night, the Lord becomes my only light,
And on that hill, He helps me climb, in God’s perfect will and time.
When the times are dark and bleak, it’s the Lord’s will I must seek,
As the Lord sends me His Grace, while even in that darkest place,
Comforted by simply who God is, and that as a believer, I am His,
As God’s presence is here to stay; throughout my life, day to day.
Times truly change, but God will not, as I live out life’s present lot,
That is the present life afforded to me, by The Lord of all Eternity,
Whose purpose will always prevail, as those around appear to fail,
As the very will which God decreed, in my life, friend, will succeed.
While in a world of shifting sands, I’m secure in my Savior’s hands,
As my every step is ordered by, my Lord God, who reigns on high,
As God’s Spirit reminds my heart, from my side, God won’t depart,
So wherever life’s’ path should go, God will be with me, this I know.
(Copyright ©11/2010)
Do you want to hear the hills groan
Do you want to hear the hills groan?
Have a walk along the uphill and downhill road
That zigzags around one hill and thenanother
Till it reaches you to an altitude of 11000 feet
All along the way you will see
The forest cover of the hills are being torn off
The stony bones of the hills are being hit hard by dynamite
And any one who has ears can hear the mountains
Writhing in silent pain
The p ilgrim walking along the winding road
Which mounts to the shrine of Lord Siva
Doesnot know that gods have taken flight
From hills and dales
Nature is being made a parking place
For pleasurehunting cars
They have not only made the tigers and the pythons homeless
They have made the gods flee
Hence out of the day and night
Ajoy has taken flight
With the surging pleasure seeking of man
And the diabolic brain of the scientists
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Montserrat
Peace waits among the hills;
I have drunk peace,
Here, where the blue air fills
The great cup of the hills,
And fills with peace.
Between the earth and sky,
I have seen the earth
Like a dark cloud go by,
And fade out of the sky;
There was no more earth.
Here, where the Holy Graal
Brought secret light
Once, from beyond the veil,
I, seeing no Holy Graal,
See divine light.
Light fills the hills with God,
Wind with his breath,
And here, in his abode,
Light, wind, and air praise God,
And this poor breath.
poem by Arthur Symons
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A Music Concert at the Suruli Hills!
‘ p..e..n..n..y..c..u..i..c..k',
sing the cuckoos from the trees
and the mellow music swells,
the Suruli dell and paddy fields.
The falls from the nearby knolls
chimes: 'p..e..n..n..y..c..u..i..c..k',
and dribbles over the breeze to cool
and makes it whistles the tune of
‘p..e..n..n..y..c..u..i..c..k'.
The rills through which water flows
down the hills from the Dam,
fills the dales with red soil
and tells the Tamils who till the lands
to recall their Lord Col. Pennycuick
who sold his own estates in Eng-lish land
and buil tthe strong Mullai Periyar Dam
across the western ghats
to slake the thirst of the Tamils
and their land where the minstrels are born.
The thankful ancient race
collect around the statue of their Lord,
cook sweet rice, ring out a peal of bells
and yell out, 'Pongalo Pongal'
and the name of Pennycuick.
on this day, his birth day
and their New Year Day,
the fifteenth January
and feed all with rice and sugarcane
and their bulls too which jingle
the chain of bells tied around their necks.
- 15.01.2012.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Come In From The Outside
Come in from the outside
Don't be ashamed
Come in from the outside
And bless His name
It's all on the inside
Where His glory reigns
Enter in
Come in from the outside
Just as you are
Come in from the outside
You're not too far
It's all on the inside
Simply open your heart
Enter in
(Chorus)
Everybody everybody
Everybody everybody
Everybody everybody
Let everything that hath breath
Praise the Lord
Everybody everybody
Praise
We're the generation
That will give You praise and adoration
Let Your kingdom come
Let Your will be done
Establish now Your throne, oh my Lord
O my Lord
Lord, Lord, Lord
Praise You Lord
Lord, Lord, Lord
We love You Lord
Lord, Lord, Lord
O my Lord
(Repeat Chorus)
song performed by by Israel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hills of Mahabaleshwar (Pune-Mumbai-India)
Passing through a long stretch of woodlands
and fields above the hills,
we saw a terrain with knolls in circles,
where the mountain-rat Shivaji held sway,
with a drawn sword when the Moghuls ruled India.
When we were going up, the shining bunds of lights
one above the other on the slopes of the hills,
made our jaunt fascinating!
A fine morning drizzle fell to make the hills smile
and the spreading mists tried in vain to veil the hills
from our ravening looks.
The mists were wreathing upwards
while our eyes were scaling down the slopes.
And it was a vertiginous dropp to the vales below!
Sparkling sparks of teachers, my friends were,
taking neck or nothing risks
and travelling in routes unheard of
to retreat into hills and forests,
not as jungle bandits with prize catches
or as bogus ascetics with all delicacies
but with passions unbridled
to get wet in the breeze of the hills
and be shrouded in the all pervading mists.
------------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Kailash of the South (Coimbatore, TamilNadu, India)
A huge boulder slopes on another
lying on the top of the tor,
and in the cave-like abode formed,
reigns supreme the self-developing ‘Linga’.
With an awesome, high, tower-like rock
standing nearby as the kingly tower,
overlooking at the Siruvani river below
on the peak of the seventh hill,
shrouded often by passing mists,
the vast mountainous terrain
offers a fascinating sight!
11
My God! Still we are in wonder,
how at sixty, we reached
the serene retreat of Lord Siva!
A colossus earthquake in times of yore
had caused these seven hills one over the other.
This Kailash of the South lures the pilgrims
who climb over a flight of stone-steps,
using a torch in the dead of night,
and a bamboo stick to keep the aged steady.
What a boycott of reptiles and animals wild
in that month of Chitra-fullmoon(May) !
It was sweaty to traipse upwards,
but our will to be on top of the hills pulled us up. 24
When we were ascending over the fourth hill,
the stars seemed nearer and nearer.
A bath in the chill-stream flowing down the sixth hill,
relieved our pain and refreshed us to go up.
A slip in your trek on the narrow track
would push you down to the deep of the earth.
When the mid-day heat boils your feet,
you can walk over the sward along the sides.
Pony, dolly, rover-car or winch is not there;
Your bare-foot walk would break your hip.
When you step on small sharp stones,
you would scream in pain.
Ascent and Descent are arduous in these hills! 37
When we slumped down to the base of the hills,
after 23 hours as hungry and weary travellers,
the priest there queried us how we were?
“We won’t try again even if you assured a crore”,
we yelled and fell to the ground.
The priest sprayed spring water on our faces
and said aloud to console us:
“The four famous Saivite Saints
dared not climb up this Vellingiri.
But you have succeeded! ”
47
I’m sure! The Lord has guarded us against hunger
and brought us back home safe;
of course with bulging legs and broken joints.
O you boys! You might have overtaken us
and completed the trip in 5.5 hours.
It may be your sixth or sixtieth trip.
But God’s favour is ‘No’ to you as most of you
drowned in liquor and flew over the hills. 55
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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In The Hills Of Shiloh
Have you seen Amanda Blaine in the hills of Shiloh
Wandering through the morning rain through the hills of Shiloh
Have you seen her at her door, listening for the cannon's roar
And a man who went to war from the hills of Shiloh
Have you heard her mournful cries in the hills of Shiloh
Have you seen her haunted eyes in the hills of Shiloh
Have you seen her running down searching through the sleeping
town
In her yellowed wedding gown in the hills of Shiloh
Have you seen her standing there in the hills of Shiloh
Wind a blowing through her hair in the hills of Shiloh
Listening for the sound of guns listening for the rolling drums
And a man who never comes to the hills of Shiloh
Have you heard Amanda sing in the hills of Shiloh
Whispering to her wedding ring in the hills of Shiloh
Hear her humming soft and low, poor Amanda doesn't know
'Twas ended forty years ago in the hills of Shiloh
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Over the hills and far away
Over the hills and far away,
A little boy steals from his morning play
And under the blossoming apple-tree
He lies and he dreams of the things to be:
Of battles fought and of victories won,
Of wrongs o'erthrown and of great deeds done -
Of the valor that he shall prove some day,
Over the hills and far away -
Over the hills, and far away!
Over the hills and far away
It's, oh, for the toil the livelong day!
But it mattereth not to the soul aflame
With a love for riches and power and fame!
On, 0 man! while the sun is high -
On to the certain joys that lie
Yonder where blazeth the noon of day,
Over the hills and far away -
Over the hills, and far away!
Over the hills and far away,
An old man lingers at close of day;
Now that his journey is almost done,
His battles fought and his victories won -
The old-time honesty and truth,
The trustfulness and the friends of youth,
Home and mother-where are they?
Over the hills and far away -
Over the years, and far away!
poem by Eugene Field
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Gold In Them Hills
I know it doesn't seem that way
But maybe it's the perfect day
Even though the bills are piling
And maybe Lady Luck ain't smiling
But if we'd only open our eyes
We'd see the blessings in disguise
That all the rain clouds are fountains
Though our troubles seem like mountains
There's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose heart
Give the day a chance to start
Every now and then life says
Where do you think you're going so fast
We're apt to think it cruel but sometimes
It's a case of cruel to be kind
And if we'd get up off our knees
Why then we'd see the forest for the trees
And we'd see the new sun rising
Over the hills on the horizon
There's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose faith
Give the world a chance to say...
A word or two, my friend
There's no telling how the day might end
And we'll never know until we see
That there's gold in them hills
There's gold in them hills
So don't lose heart
Give the day a chance to start
There's gold in them hills...
There's gold in them hills...
song performed by by Coldplay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over The Hills
The old hound wags his shaggy tail,
And I know what he would say:
It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills, and away.
There's nought for us here save to count the clock,
And hang the head all day:
But over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
Here among men we're like the deer
That yonder is our prey:
So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The hypocrite is master here,
But he's the cock of clay:
So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The women, they shall sigh and smile,
And madden whom they may:
It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
Let silly lads in couples run
To pleasure, a wicked fay:
'Tis ours on the heather to bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The torrent glints under the rowan red,
And shakes the bracken spray:
What joy on the heather to bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The sun bursts broad, and the heathery bed
Is purple, and orange, and gray:
Away, and away, we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
poem by George Meredith
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Seventy-Six
What heroes from the woodland sprung,
When, through the fresh awakened land,
The thrilling cry of freedom rung,
And to the work of warfare strung
The yeoman's iron hand!
Hills flung the cry to hills around,
And ocean-mart replied to mart,
And streams whose springs were yet unfound,
Pealed far away the startling sound
Into the forest's heart.
Then marched the brave from rocky steep,
From mountain river swift and cold;
The borders of the stormy deep,
The vales where gathered waters sleep,
Sent up the strong and bold,--
As if the very earth again
Grew quick with God's creating breath,
And, from the sods of grove and glen,
Rose ranks of lion-hearted men
To battle to the death.
The wife, whose babe first smiled that day,
The fair fond bride of yestereve,
And aged sire and matron gray,
Saw the loved warriors haste away,
And deemed it sin to grieve.
Already had the strife begun;
Already blood on Concord's plain
Along the springing grass had run,
And blood had flowed at Lexington,
Like brooks of April rain.
That death-stain on the vernal sward
Hallowed to freedom all the shore;
In fragments fell the yoke abhorred--
The footstep of a foreign lord
Profaned the soil no more.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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I am sick of this road
Another horrid drive
300 miles, etched in my mind
Burnt into my eyes
Tree after tree, damn this monotony
Road staggers through the hills
Lost in woods
Eastern Ohio in fall
So uninteresting
Like an old photograph in a textbook
It never changes
Fields of wheat
Fields of grass
Fields of exhaustion in my life
I am not doing this for you anymore
It is sick
Disgusted driver loses his focus
No fairness in the visits
So unbalanced in quantity
Road ends in hell for me
I am here for a single sunflower among weeds
Cuts have been scribed on my arms by the thorns
Bright flower that cannot be picked
Must remain in the hills
I am sick of this road
poem by Casey Stewart
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Rat 6
do you remember
rice fields? try imagining
the green rice fields,
put some hills
more hills, and put a gap
between two hills,
and put the sun
shining brightly
and then put some black
buffaloes grazing at the
foot of the hills,
and then on the left side
try putting a nipa hut
a window and a little girl
looking out for sparrows
and on the right side
put the running river and
a jumping fish
do you still think that this
could be your home?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Psalm 97
v.1,3,5-7,11
C. M.
Christ's incarnation, and the last judgment.
Ye islands of the northern sea,
Rejoice, the Savior reigns;
His word, like fire, prepares his way,
And mountains melt to plains.
His presence sinks the proudest hills,
And makes the valleys rise;
The humble soul enjoys his smiles,
The haughty sinner dies.
The heav'ns his rightful power proclaim,
The idol-gods around
Fill their own worshippers with shame,
And totter to the ground.
Adoring angels at his birth
Make the Redeemer known:
Thus shall he come to judge the earth,
And angels guard his throne.
His foes shall tremble at his sight,
And hills and seas retire;
His children take their unknown flight,
And leave the world in fire.
The seeds of joy and glory sown
For saints in darkness here,
Shall rise and spring in worlds unknown,
And a rich harvest bear.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 35
Praise to God for creation and redemption.
Let them neglect thy glory, Lord,
Who never knew thy grace;
But our loud songs shall still record
The wonders of thy praise.
We raise our shouts, O God, to thee,
And send them to thy throne;
All glory to th' united Three,
The undivided One.
'Twas he (and we'll adore his name)
That formed us by a word;
'Tis he restores our ruined frame:
Salvation to the Lord!
Hosannah! let the earth and skies
Repeat the joyful sound
Rocks, hills, and vales, reflect the voice
In one eternal round.
poem by Isaac Watts
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This World Belongs to Children
Nethravathi from Kudremukh hills
waters the sacred land of Dharmasthala,
girt by enchanting hills and rivulets
with woodland scenes around
and there goes the silent charity
of feeding the poor and the rich
under the same roof of the Almighty.
May the angels bless the Nelyadibeedu,
the family chosen to drive out hunger
and making the human mind to wonder
in serving people with selfless zeal.
It will last long till the earth spins.
Peace reigns the restless souls here.
The rich know how to spend
the unawaited abundant wealth.
The amazing statue of Bahubali
hauls the vexed souls up
and let them aim high for the good of all.
May the Lord Manjunathaswami
inspire those around to shun violence.
May the people visiting there
breathe calm and comfort.
The sounds of guns must give place
to pious hymns pacifying the soul.
Children born to serve this world
see the shocking scenes of blood.
Being riven apart from their mothers,
they cry in pain and hunger.
The world is not the sole assets
of the misled, religious bigots
to play with bombs and guns.
It is the flowery garden for the children
to grow by loving others and being loved.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Deus Misereatur
PLEASANT the ways whereon our feet were led,
Sweet the young hills, the valleys of content,
But now the hours of dew and dream have fled.
Lord, we are spent.
We did not heed Thy warning in the skies,
We have not heard Thy voice nor known Thy fold;
But now the world is darkening to our eyes.
Lord, we grow old.
Now the sweet stream turns bitter with our tears,
Now dies the star we followed in the west,
Now are we sad and ill at ease with years.
Lord, we would rest.
Lo, our proud lamps are emptied of their light,
Weary our hands to toil, our feet to roam;
Our day is past and swiftly falls Thy night.
Lord, lead us home.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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