The Old Women Of The Water Village
i
they are singing
paddling the boats that we are riding
following the path of a river
that shows us
old houses made of stones
we pass the bridge
where once the famous
Chinese painter
brushed
water colors for the
emperor
ii
for a fee
we have given them work
we are the tourists and they are
singing
if only we can understand the lyrics
of their old serenade
a la Venice
we could have realized
how stupid we are...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Please Don't Pass Me By (A Disgrace)
I was walking in New York City and I brushed up against the man in front of
me. I felt a cardboard placard on his back. And when we passed a streetlight,
I could read it, it said "Please don't pass me by - I am blind, but you can
see - I've been blinded totally - Please don't pass me by." I was walking
along 7th Avenue, when I came to 14th Street I saw on the corner curious
mutilations of the human form; it was a school for handicapped people. And
there were cripples, and people in wheelchairs and crutches and it was snowing,
and I got this sense that the whole city was singing this:
Oh please don't pass me by,
oh please don't pass me by,
for I am blind, but you can see,
yes, I've been blinded totally,
oh please don't pass me by.
And you know as I was walking I thought it was them who were singing it, I
thought it was they who were singing it, I thought it was the other who was
singing it, I thought it was someone else. But as I moved along I knew it was
me, and that I was singing it to myself. It went:
Please don't pass me by,
oh please don't pass me by,
for I am blind, but you can see,
well, I've been blinded totally,
oh please don't pass me by.
Oh please don't pass me by.
Now I know that you're sitting there deep in your velvet seats and you're
thinking "Uh, he's up there saying something that he thinks about, but I'll
never have to sing that song." But I promise you friends, that you're going
to be singing this song: it may not be tonight, it may not be tomorrow, but
one day you'll be on your knees and I want you to know the words when the
time comes. Because you're going to have to sing it to yourself, or to
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are You Willing To Pay The Price?
there are two houses
two distant islands
on one island there are only two colors
black and white
nothing in between
no shades, no hues
no compromises of
blending
it is a hard, disciplined structure
where rocks are rocks
same shapes, same weight, same burdens
on the other hand the other island is
full of colors,
it is like law being let go
into freedom
call it a rainbow where pots of gold are found
where seemingly everything goes on and on
but with
responsibility
the trees grow leaves of different
colors and
striations and shapes
it is surprising
it happens
the rocks there move
like living heads of mushrooms
the rivers sometimes take their rest
freezing cold
and hard and then turning into mobile water again
singing
there is no bridge between this two
no connection
nothing familiar about each
but i live in both
i know the secret path
and if you want to know it
let me ask: are you willing to pay the price?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Riding On A Railroad
We are riding on a railroad, singing some elses song
Forever standing by the cross road. take a side and step along.
We are sailing away on a river to the sea. maybe you an me can meet again.
We are riding on a railroad, singing someone elses song sing along.
Time to time I tire of the life that Ive been leading
Town to town, day by day
Theres a man up here who claims to have his hands upon the reins.
There are chains upon his hands and hes riding upon a train.
We are riding on a railroad, singing some elses song
Forever standing by the cross road. take a side and step along.
We are sailing away on a river to the sea. maybe you an me can meet again.
We are riding on a railroad, singing someone elses song.
[instrumental and fade].
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hear America Singing
I Hear America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics--each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat--the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench--the hatter singing as he stands;
The wood-cutter's song--the ploughboy's, on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother--or of the young wife at work--or of the girl sewing or washing--Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day--At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Singing All Day
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Went down to the station to look for her there,
Looked through the crowds for a glimpse of her hair,
Nothing to see but the crowds keep a-staring at me,
My, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Down in the street, tryn to remember,
Shuffling my feet outside a menswear,
Is that her in the fur coat?
No its not december yet,
My, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Back to the house, maybe shell phone me,
Singing my song, feeling so lonely.
Ill sing very softly, so if the phone rings
I can hear it, I can hear it.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing 'bout nothing,
Oo, my, my, my,
Oo, my, my, my.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Boy Paddling His Boat In The River
who had seen the little child paddling a boat
along this old river?
he drifted silently along the river weeds,
picking white lotuses along the way
the water hides his tracks
as duckweed opens him another path.
i was that boy, now, wanting to go back
in that old river.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I love singing - singing is what I'm famous for doing. Now it's turned into things I am famous for doing - like having rows with my mum or about my boyfriend, so it does get irritating.
quote by Charlotte Church
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River of Me
I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go
That Cheyenne Bodie was ten feet tall
His voice so deep it filled a hall
And that was who I dreamed I’d be
Until Cochise came on the scene
There was ice on the river and ice on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me
The fields were full of cows, corn or wheat
The air was thick with bees and heat
The summer lasted all year long
I never knew til it was gone
And then of course came that high school girl
Her glances made my river swirl
More complex than the universe
I never knew what she’d do next
There was light on the river and light on the pond
And the singing nun sang on and on
There were trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And fish galore in the river of me
And up we soared towards the sky
Through songs and dancing by and by
My waterfalls and waves ran high
For just the winking of an eye
And in the distance the quiet sea
was waiting on the river me
And on the banks the weeds grew tall
Where rusting leaves began to fall
Now there’s night on the river and night on the pond
And the singing nun is long since gone
There are trees on the river bank, cliffs by the sea
And memories in the river of me
I launched myself on the river me
Way back when I was two or three
I sailed out through the wall of snow
Beneath the bridge where all kids go
Sade
SADE
whenever you see me falling
Please come to my aid.
.
SADE
Whenever you see the birds singing
Know it is me calling.
.
SADE
Whenever you see me pensive
know it is you I am missing.
.
SADE
Whenever you want to fall,
Please fall into my love.
.
SADE
Have you yet heard my serenade?
It is for you I am singing
.
I want serenade you from your
Sleep my Sade
.
It is no time for lullaby my love
It is time to dance to the tone
Of my serenade my love.
.
SADE
To you I am coming
And by the time I get to you
This poem will be finished.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Leisure Suit Serenade
Wearin old t-shirts and grubby jeans
People say I look kinda odd
Well, Im never accepted in the social set
cause they say that Im a clod
But once in a while, I go to my closet
And I put on something mod
And when I step out in my leisure suit
People stand up and applaud
Leisure suit serenade
Slip one on and you got it made
You better hope and pray that the colors dont fade
Thats the leisure suit serenade
Now, it dont matter if the collars bent
If its got nylon twenty percent
Now Im as cool as the asb president
Leisure suit serenade
Leisure suit serenade
Slip one on and you got it made
You better hope and pray that the colors dont fade
Thats the leisure suit serenade, oh yeah
Thats the leisure suit serenade
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song For You
(leon russell)
Ive been so many places
In my life and time
Ive sung a lot of songs
I made some bad rhymes
Ive acted out my life in stages
Ten thousand people watching
But were alone now
Im singing this song for you
I know your image of me
Is what I hope to be
I treated you unkindly
But darling cant you see?
Theres no-one more important to me
Oh, baby, cant you please see through me?
cause were alone now and
Im singing this song for you
You taught me precious secrets
Of the truth withholding nothing
You came out in front
I was hiding
Oh, but now Im so much better
If the words dont come together
Just listen to the melody
cause my love in there hiding
Ooh, ooh
Oh, I love you in a place
Where theres no space or time
Love you for my life
You are a friend of mine
And when my life is over
Remember when we were together
We were alone and
I was singing this song for you
We were alone
I was singing this song for you, oh
Singing
I was singing, singing, singing, singing, singing this song for you
Oh, yes
Singing this song for you
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Good Joan
A long the thousand roads of France,
Now there, and here, swift as a glance,
A cloud, a mist blown down the sky,
Good Joan of Arc goes riding by.
In Domremy at candlelight,
The orchards blowing rose and white
About the shadowy houses lie;
And Joan of Arc goes riding by.
On Avignon there falls a hush,
Brief as the singing of a thrush
Across old gardens April-high;
And Joan of Arc goes riding by.
poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese
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Look Toward The Land
Live performance
Well, I dreamed I was a gypsy riding the land
With a tambourine and a gypsy queen
And a rainbow caravan
Happy old land sailor, yeah, that's what I want to be
Stealing diamonds from the rich men to throw in the sea
Singing look toward the land
'cause the land holds the key
Keep an eye on the land
And an eye on man
Well, I dreamed I was a cabin boy
On an American Clipper line
Watering flowers for the captain
That they may not wilt
Bringing cargo to colonies of South Caroline
On the best ol' Clipper Dave McKay ever built
Singing look toward the land
'cause the land is the key
Singing keep an eye on the land
And an eye on the sea
Well, I dreamed I was your lover
'Cause that's what I want to be
And I dreamed that every night you dreamed only of me
And we walked along the beach, and ooh, we held hands
And I told you you were my only woman
And I was your only man
Singing look toward the lovers
For they are the key
Keep an eye on the lovers
And an eye on the war machine
Yes I dreamed I was a captain of a river queen
Caressing Mississippi waters down to New Orleans
Yeah, a happy ol' riverboat captain, that's what I'd like to be
And I'd let you ride my honey, I'd let you ride her for free
Singing look toward the river
'Cause the river's the key
Keep an eye on the river
And an eye on the sea
Well, I dreamed I was your friend
'Cause that's what I want to be
And every night, you had dreams
And they were all of me
We'd walk all the streets together
Hand in hand
And be kind to the women
And the women be kind to the me
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grand Rapids
Air -- "Bright Alfaretta"
Wild roved the Indians once
On the banks of Grand River,
And they built their little huts
Down by that flowing river.
In a pleasant valley fair,
Where flows the river rapid,
An Indian village once was there,
Where now stands Grand Rapids.
Indian girls and boys were seen,
With their bow and quiver,
Riding in their light canoes
Up and down the river.
Their hearts were full of joy,
Happy voices singing
Made music with forest birds,
They kept the valley ringing.
Indians have left and gone
Beyond the Mississippi.
They called the river Owashtenong
Where stands this pleasant city.
Louis Campau the first white man
Bought land in Grand Rapids.
He lived and died, an honored man
By people of Grand Rapids.
When Campau came to the valley
No bridge was across the river;
Indians in their light canoes
Rowed them o'er the water.
Railroads now from every way
Run through the city, Grand Rapids;
The largest town in west Michigan
Is the city of Grand Rapids.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Alankar (Decor) -10
Music My Love
'Music my love, singing in heart repletes
I swear on my singing you too love it
My notes, my scales, singing my choice, my taste
When I go on singing sure for repeats
Listen to my singing closing your eyes
Honour you my singing with mind open
And you to my singing you ears sharpen
Never to my singing should you despise'
'Oh me to your singing I close my eyes
And me to your singing with mind open
I pray as your singing in heart repletes
And mine to your singing ears do depise
Not mine but yours, singing not to happen
Music your love, singing yours no repeats'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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By Blackfriars Bridge
It is such a lovely day and the sun is shining.
Outside the nearby pub, there are people dining.
A street performer dances with a crystal ball.
Directly opposite me, is the dome of St Paul's.
Along the pebbled shore, a few stragglers stroll.
Somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolls.
At the river, people contentedly stand and stare.
The soft, summer breeze gently ruffles my hair.
The Millennium Bridge shines silver in the sun.
I pass by some joggers, who are out for their run.
People take pictures with their mobile phones.
Along the river, a pair of ducks happily roam.
Of people walking along, there is a constant flow.
Planes high up in the sky head towards Heathrow.
A flock of seagulls swoop around above my head,
As they search for food along the Thames riverbed.
The sun is reflected upon the river, as a silvery path.
Along the riverbank, crowds of people chat and laugh.
Tourists mill around outside Shakespeare's Globe.
An Afro-Caribbean wears a brightly coloured robe.
From the nearby pier, pleasure boats come and go.
By the river's edge, there is a man playing a piano.
With the warm sun upon me, I could stay all day,
And it takes some effort to finally pull myself away.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Painter Man
Went to college, studied arts
To be an artist make a start
Studied hard, gettin my degree
But no one seemed to notice me
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Tried cartoons and comic books
Dirty postcards could have done
Here was where the money laid
Classic art has had its day
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Did adverts for t.v.
Household shops and brands of tea
Labels all around the cans
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
La...la...la...la...la...la...
La...la...la...la...la...la...la...
Painter man, painter man
Who wanna be a painter man
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Riverside
Seen her get up, seen her go down
Down to the riverside
Seen her jump into the river and drown
Down to the riverside
People do just what they will
Dont matter to the river, its running still
Sun come up, sun go down
Down to the riverside
Sun jump into the river and drown
Down to the riverside
Every day just like the last
We sit and watch the water pass
Came a day the built a bridge
Down to the riverside
Over the way, on top of the ridge
Down to the riverside
Built a bridge for people to cross
But every other day, someone jumping off
You might think some boys they got it made
Down to the riverside
They got the money and the women and a place in the shade
Down to the riverside
That aint no way to ease the pain
Cant listen to the river when it calls your name
song performed by by Kenny Wayne Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Way
At first a mere thread of a footpath half blotted out by the grasses
Sweeping triumphant across it, it wound between hedges of roses
Whose blossoms were poised above leaves as pond lilies float on the water,
While hidden by bloom in a hawthorn a bird filled the morning with singing.
It widened a highway, majestic, stretching ever to distant horizons,
Where shadows of tree-branches wavered, vague outlines invaded by sunshine;
No sound but the wind as it whispered the secrets of earth to the flowers,
And the hum of the yellow bees, honey-laden and dusty with pollen.
And Summer said, "Come, follow onward, with no thought save the longing to wander,
The wind, and the bees, and the flowers, all singing the great song of Nature,
Are minstrels of change and of promise, they herald the joy of the Future."
Later the solitude vanished, confused and distracted the road
Where many were seeking and jostling. Left behind were the trees and the flowers,
The half-realized beauty of quiet, the sacred unconscious communing.
And now he is come to a river, a line of gray, sullen water,
Not blue and splashing, but dark, rolling somberly on to the ocean.
But on the far side is a city whose windows flame gold in the sunset.
It lies fair and shining before him, a gem set betwixt sky and water,
And spanning the river a bridge, frail promise to longing desire,
Flung by man in his infinite courage, across the stern force of the water;
And he looks at the river and fears, the bridge is so slight, yet he ventures
His life to its fragile keeping, if it fails the waves will engulf him.
O Arches! be strong to uphold him, and bear him across to the city,
The beautiful city whose spires still glow with the fires of sunset!
poem by Amy Lowell
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On Westminster Bridge.
Fay looked down
at the River Thames
from Westminster Bridge
and you stood next to her
watching the boats
go under the bridge
and disappear from view
and she said
my dad said he'd take me
on one of those boats
and out to sea
but he never has
you looked sideways at her
taking in her blonde hair
and her blue eyes
and the way the wind
touched her hair
and made her dress
move about her legs
I've been on boats
on the river before
you said
making conversation
not seeking to impress
or boast
I like the chugging sound
of the boat
you added
Fay touched
the edge of the bridge
where she stood
and said
this bridge was built in 1862
I heard about it in class
Miss Ash told us about it
oh yes she
with her massive shoulders
and arms and big breasts
you said
and Fay laughed
and blushed slightly
God knows what my dad'd say
if he heard you say that
and me laughing
she said
looking at you
and shyly smiling
probably give me
what's for
she uttered quieter
ceasing to smile
her eyes taking on
a dark gaze
looking out
at the river again
you've got to have a laugh
now and then
haven't you
you said
wanting to put
an arm about her
but not doing so
just putting a hand
next to hers
on the bridge top
feeling the cold stone
wanting to feel her flesh
soft and warm
suppose so
she said softly
her fingers close to yours
almost touching
you moved your hand
closer across the stone
crablike and touched
her small finger with yours
she breathed in the air
and so did you
and she said
oh to be in London
and out of doors.
poem by Terry Collett
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