193
A poor village
Covered with dust
Then the sound
Of first rain
Comes from
The mountain
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
The Sound Of First Rain After Drought
A poor village
Covered with dust
Then the sound
Of first rain
Comes from
The mountain
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Covered In Rain
These days, with the world getting colder,
She spends more time sleeping over
Than I planned.
Tonight were gonna order in,
Drinking wine and watch some cnn.
Its dark I know but then again
Its the brightest thing I got
When Im covered in rain
When Im covered in rain, rain, rain, rain
No, I am covered in rain, rain
Firewoods to fire places
Summer snow and fallen places
Now were people watching other people, people watching you and i
Standing by the missing signs at the cvs by the checkout line
Put your tiny hands in mine
Cause your the brightest thing I got
When youre covered in rain
Cause Im covered in rain
Cause Im covered in rain
No Im covered in rain
And its alright
If you dont want to go on
And its alright
If you dont want to be alone
And its alright
If you dont want to go home
Come december lydia left
Mentioned something about it being for the best
And I cant say I disagree
Now Im standing facing west
Tracing my fingers round a silhouette
I havent gotten used to yet
But its the brightest thing I got
And Im covered in rain
Cus Im covered in rain
Cus Im covered in rain
You and me and everyone, covered in rain
song performed by by John Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Beautiful Fairy And The Fairy Dust Rain
Around this time of the year
The arrival of Spring is near
The arrival of Spring is almost here
And I'll happily be one with the spirits of nature
I'll completely embrace the magic of spring
As well as the wonder of nature
And the many other worldly pleasures
Around this time of the year
I await the fairy dust rain
Surrounded by trees and flowers
And many other things that are green
I await the arrival of the fairy dust rain
And many other sights of nature just waiting to be seen
A beautiful fairy flutters down from the sky
And lands down in front of me
She's almost as tall as me
We greet each other
And our hopes are the same
As we wait for the fairy dust rain
In the meantime
The beautiful fairy shows me her gifts of magic
And shares her knowledge with me as well
After periods of time have gone by
Fairy dust begins to rain down from the sky
The fairy dust rain has finally arrived
And we share the smiles and laughter
You ask me for a dance
And I don't hesitate to pass up this chance
We dance
Surrounded by flowers
Surrounded by trees
Surrounded by the fairy dust rain
After dancing
We look into each other's eyes
And then up to the skies
As the fairy dust rain continues to fall
Our eyes then return to each other
And we share a hug
You flutter your wings a little
Shaking off some of the fairy dust that's covered them
You tell me you're staying with me
At least for the time being right now
Little by little
We're being lightly covered in the fairy dust rain
Beautiful fairy
I must say that these moments we share
They're memorable and precious
You echo your feelings and sentiments to me as well
As the fairy dust rain continues to fill the air
Side by side
We stand together
Loving what's happening
But most importantly
We enjoy the sight of the fairy dust rain
poem by Justin Gildow
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Andrew Jones
I hate that Andrew Jones; he'll breed
His children up to waste and pillage.
I wish the press-gang or the drum
With its tantara sound would come,
And sweep him from the village!
I said not this, because he loves
Through the long day to swear and tipple;
But for the poor dear sake of one
To whom a foul deed he had done,
A friendless man, a travelling cripple!
For this poor crawling helpless wretch,
Some horseman who was passing by,
A penny on the ground had thrown;
But the poor cripple was alone
And could not stoop--no help was nigh.
Inch-thick the dust lay on the ground
For it had long been droughty weather;
So with his staff the cripple wrought
Among the dust till he had brought
The half-pennies together.
It chanced that Andrew passed that way
Just at the time; and there he found
The cripple in the mid-day heat
Standing alone, and at his feet
He saw the penny on the ground.
He stopped and took the penny up:
And when the cripple nearer drew,
Quoth Andrew, "Under half-a-crown,
What a man finds is all his own,
And so, my Friend, good-day to you."
And 'hence' I said, that Andrew's boys
Will all be trained to waste and pillage;
And wished the press-gang, or the drum
With its tantara sound, would come
And sweep him from the village.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Les Cloches Du Hameau
duet with Celine Dion's Family
The bells of the village
Les cloches du hameau
Chantent dans la campagne
Le son du chalumeau
Egaye la montagne
The bells of the village
Are singing in the country
The sound of the bells
Brighten up the mountain
On entend
song performed by by Celine Dion from These Are Special Times
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain you do not drain my soul
Rain, rain if the fall
rain, rain hear my call
droplets fall with such grace from above
like a angel tear dropp covered dove
so soothing
so moving
the puddles from a swift current thats glistening
gather your loved ones and keep listening
to the light sound
of that beautifal rain hit the ground
poem by Travis clark
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Poor Man's Rain
Some people call it poor man's rain
When pots and pans on nightly stairs
Sound drips and drops from roof leak strain
Some people call it poor man's rain
When duct taped cracks brace to withstand
The pounding flood on window panes
Some people call it poor man's rain
When coats and shoes are frayed and worn
And puddles morning sidewalks stain
Some people call it poor man's rain
When sheets of water wait for dark
A blessing that the night contains.
poem by Liilia Talts Morrison
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4 Modern
Wet dog
Looks into a rain pool
Contemplative
When it rains
Cats sleep on window sills
Pensive mice
Meditative rain
Gently descends
In September
Introspective
Mountain village
In the mist
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Coal-Truck
I am a coal-truck
Carrying gold dust.
Someone threw some
Coal-dust upon
My gold-dust.
I am a coal-truck
In a gold mine.
Someone struck a coal vein
And piled me full in vain.
I am a coal-truck
Covered in subterranean dust.
Someone shovelled my soil
And found an ancient bone
All coiled.
I am a coal-truck
Waiting for the rain.
The sun is my rail
The night my shed.
I am a coal-truck
Rumbling all the way.
Wash me in the rain-storm
And fill me full of coke
Until I choke.
(©: T. Wignesan,1957 - Pub. in 'Forum Academicum', Heidelberg University,1957; from the collection: Tracks of a Tramp. Kuala Lumpur-Singapore: 1961)
poem by T. Wignesan
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Butterfly
(clarke / hicks / nash)
We met on the shore of a lemonade lake.
Weeping willows looked down where we lay.
Orange blossoms I smell in your hair.
Butterfly, flutter by, butterfly by.
Waterfalls send your ripples to us
Here on the shore of the lemonade lake.
Pond lilies play hide and seek with the fish.
Rabbit run, run rabbit, rabbit run by.
Roaring mountain is standing close by,
Covered with snowdrops and glistening with dew.
I hear the sound of a small hummingbird.
I took your hand and I waltzed off with you.
Come to the top of the mountain with me.
Jump on a cloud and well float to and fro.
Seeing the countryside covered with grass
And the top of the mountain with candy-floss and snow.
Butterfly lazily drinking the sun,
Lavishly sprinkled and painted with gold.
Here in the land of the mist and the lake,
Me and my true love will never grow old.
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspired by Issa - My Home Village
my home village
the virgin mary still stands
young as ever
my home village
old friends like me
away from home
my home village
old friends live in
new homes
inspired by
my home village-
the winter rain targets
a standing Buddha
-Issa,1816
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Grey Wet Fog Of Emptiness
like a gray fog of wet emptiness
covering all realms of my vision
covering all realms of my thought
it is raining so hard, I can’t even see the road
the road - where I drive
windshield wipers sway
left to right
right to left
but they are too old - too slow
to ever give me clear vision
vision - of the pavement which lies ahead
the temperature is a million degrees outside
the windows fog from the pounding 100% humidity
no defroster, none that works anyway
I wipe the glass with my sleeve
in a flesh flash
these people wildly run across the road in front of me
but the breaks on this ancient sports car are old
they wouldn’t have stopped me
even if I slammed the pedal to the floor
near miss
their death in my hands
my death in theirs
pouring - forced water - forms passageways
rivers - to my either side
there is no way I can stop
no way to quit and wait this one out
if I stop - I’m dead
washed away/cleansed from the earth
at the hands of this nonstop deluge of liquid passion
no choice but to move on
through this rainy mountain village
this rainy mountain road
Southeast Asian rain
and you thought the rain covered roads in L.A. were bad
poem by Scott Shaw
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Sweet Rain
Pitter-patter-pane
Here we go once again
With the sound of rain
On my window pane
First it bulges out with a drizzle
I frizzle in bed waiting for the rain to fizzle
The raindrops fight as they sizzle
Why the sizzle is relaxing remains to me a puzzle
Whilst it pours down heavy
Imposing on the roads a levy
Thunder, chaos and lighting
Is the rattling usual sighting
I hear the people complain
About the sound of sweet rain
But we need you to maintain
The forests, the green and the mountain plains
O! sweet rain! O! sweet rain!
Pitter-patter-pane
Let us do it once again
Just don't delay my speeding train
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Who Am I? I Am! (Part Two)
i am the abandoned dog,
covered with ticks.
i am the wedding ring
flung against the wall.
i am the old man
who cant seem to remember
why he did what he did.
i am the restless boy
roaming the streets.
i am the old woman waiting
for her check to come.
i am the rent unpaid,
and the lights cut off.
i am the gun in the corner,
covered with dust.
i am the broken teeth
of the homeless man.
i am a child of Jesus,
and a renegade sinner.
i am the buddha in the dumpster,
covered with trash.
i am a Muslim, a Hindu,
and a Bhakti searcher.
i am the atheist who questions,
the prodigal who repents.
i am the gallows, the prison,
and the prison of fear.
i am more than less,
and less than more.
i am black, i am white,
i am brown, i am red...
i am human, i am eternal,
i am dust, i am tears....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Years Have Passed
Years have passed and only sounds of waters have come to my ears,
To-day, indeed, I may even count the ripples around the fishing net.
The pattern of the maple leaves in Autumn dyed with the rain -
Beautiful in the deep mountain!
The sound of the mountain brook gives an illusion of rain drops,
Yet the calm of the waning moon shines over all.
Even in our wandering journey,
The lonely moon accompanies us lighting us from the sky,
The waning moon I used to gaze at in the Royal City.
Undying affection!
Can it end at last, overlaid with time
Even as snow covers the land in the Northern Province?
Even a little pebble does not cease to be,
Though pressed under the snow of Hakusan;
So is my affection even though hidden.
Far from towns, in the heart of the mountain,
The cherry blooms, and wastes its blooms away
With none to see.
The outer world of many sorrows
Is not to be forgotten even here.
At the sound of the evening bell
Lonely grows my heart.
poem by Sugawara Takesue no Musume
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Rain Passes
Rain passes, washing the face of the mountain.
Clouds come, the mountain's in a dream.
Clouds and rain come and go as they please.
Only the mountain, forever green, remains.
The Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud
Solemn faced
The village settles down
Undetected by the stars
And the hangman plays the mandolin before he goes to sleep
And the last thing on his mind
Is the wild eyed boy imprisoned
Neath the covered wooden shaft
Folds the rope
Into its bag
Blows his pipe of smolders
Blankets smoke into the room
And the day will end for some
As the night begins for one
Staring through the message in his eyes
Lies a solitary son
From the mountain called freecloud
Where the eagle dare not fly
And the patience in his sigh
Gives no indication
For the townsmen to decide
So the village dreadful yawns
Pronouncing gross diversion
As the label for the dog
Oh its the madness in his eyes
As he breaks the night to cry
Its really me
Really you
And really me
Its so hard for us to really be
Really you
And really me
Youll lose me though Im always really free
And the mountain moved its eyes
To the world of realize
Where the snow had saved a place
For the wild eyed boy from freecloud
And the village dreadful cried
As the rope began to rise
For the smile stayed on the face
Of the wild eyed boy from freecloud
And the women once proud
Clutched the heart of the crowd
As the boulders smashed down from the mountains hand
And the magic in the stare
Of the wild eyed boy, said
Stop, freecloud
They wont think to cut me down
But the cottages fell
Like a playing card hell
And the tears on the face
Of the wise boy
Came trembling down
To the rumbling ground
And the missionary mystic of peace/love
Stumbled to cry among the clouds
Kicking back the pebbles
From the freecloud mountain track
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain Love
Rain Rain Love
Rain Rain Love
Rain Rain Love
Rain Rain Love
Threw out my old raincoat
Set sail without a boat
For places somewhere far beyond my dreams
As the sky came pouring down
I lay down on the ground
Like I was dreaming, I let the feeling wash all over me
Rain Love Covered around me
Rain Rain Love Finally found me
This time you're gonna recognise
One drop will open up your eyes
Rain Love
It's the colour of every sky
It's the way to change the tide
When the world is crumbling down on you and me
It's the calm that lifts the storm
It's the promise that keeps you warm
When you don't understand, just touch the guiding hand that comforts me
Rain Love...
Takes this lot to make you realise
No greater love could ever fill the sky
Rain Love....
song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wrong Direction Home
In a shingle covered cottage at the foothills of blue stacks
Near a mountain stream thats flowing crystal clear
Where the humming birds and honey bees feed on mamas roses
My memries just grow sweeter with the years
Memries of my childhood are as sweet as mountain honey
And as fresh as a dew on morning glory vines
I grew up surrounded by the sights and sounds of nature
And theyre forever present in my mind
But Im headed in the wrong direction home
Headed in the wrong direction home
Theres no place like home
But Im headed in the wrong direction home
Teardrops mingled with the summer rain that was a falling
The day I left my mountain home behind
With a suitcase in my hand and a hope in my heart
I was following a dream I had to find
In that shingled covered cottage at the foothills of the smokies
Waits a family hat Im longing to see
And mountain streams and fields of green
And rolling hills stay in my dreams
But Im many, many miles from tennessee
And still headed in the wrong direction home
Headed in the wrong direction home
But maybe Ill get back before too long
But Im headed in the wrong direction home
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Voice From The Mountain
Voice from the mountain
And a voice from the sea
Voice in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
The sound on the ocean wave
And the sound in the tree
Sound in a country lane
Say you can be free.
Tell me you crowd you crowd
Tell me again
Tell me out loud out loud
This sound is rain.
Tune from the hillside
And tune full of light
A flute in the morning
And a chime in the night.
I know the game again
I know the score
I know my name my name
But this tune is more.
Voice from the mountain
And voice from the sea
Voice from in my neighbourhood
And a voice calling me.
Tell me my friend my friend
Tell me with love
Where can it end it end
Voice from above.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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