En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Over The Land Is April

OVER the land is April,
Over my heart a rose;
Over the high, brown mountain
The sound of singing goes.
Say, love, do you hear me,
Hear my sonnets ring?
Over the high, brown mountain,
Love, do you hear me sing?

By highway, love, and byway
The snows succeed the rose.
Over the high, brown mountain
The wind of winter blows.
Say, love, do you hear me,
Hear my sonnets ring?
Over the high, brown mountain
I sound the song of spring,
I throw the flowers of spring.
Do you hear the song of spring?
Hear you the songs of spring?

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To His Lady

(Who asked a Song in Spring)

WHY do you bid your poet sing,
Who has no mind to song--
Who only wants to see the Spring,
Long sought and tarrying long?
The shivering, dreary winter through
My song enshrined my vow;
If then my songs were sweet to you,
Let me be silent now!

Have I not duly sung, my dear,
Your goodness and your grace?
Now that your rival, Spring, is here,
O let me see her face!
The hedge is white with buds of May,
The fields are green with Spring,
Oh, give your bard a holiday:
He does not want to sing!

He wants to listen; all alone,
He wants to steal away
To hear the ring-doves' tender tone,
And what the thrushes say.
He wants to hear what can't be heard
When you and love are near--
The sweet Spring's soft and secret word;
Oh, let him go, my dear!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Lover's Vow To Spring

Love, there's an ancient quarry where bluebells grow
Like sapphires in the melting snow
Like quartz-clocks they tell the time is spring
If ‘ere you'd listen, you might just here them ring
Like a mountain Elysian blue spring,
Oh darling do you hear an after-ring!
And if so take mine own!
For now I've loved all summers are postpone.

poem by Mark Heathcote
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This River

this river is a wide and long stretch
of brown dreams
it is silent its ripples are like moving threads
it has a song of its own
that only your heart can sing

we sail this river again
this ealy morning when the sun still hides itself
in the nipa palms

we sit side by side as the boat takes its time
we hold our hands
we are still lovers throught the years
we look forward to the same direction

it will not take that long
at the end we will see again the cascades
we will hear the flow of the mountain springs

we will again remember
the harmony of what we once were
do you hear that cascading song of the water?
that is the song of the river that in my heart i always treasure

together and forever
we will cascade, my love, like this long, brown river to the sea
of our daily affections

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lyrebirds

Over the west side of the mountain,
that’s lyrebird country.
I could go down there, they say, in the early morning,
and I’d see them, I’d hear them.

Ten years, and I have never gone.
I’ll never go.
I’ll never see the lyrebirds -
the few, the shy, the fabulous,
the dying poets.

I should see them, if I lay there in the dew:
first a single movement
like a waterdrop falling, then stillness,
then a brown head, brown eyes,
a splendid bird, bearing
like a crest the symbol of his art,
the high symmetrical shape of the perfect lyre.
I should hear that master practising his art.

No, I have never gone.
Some things ought to be left secret, alone;
some things – birds like walking fables –
ought to inhabit nowhere but the reverence of the
heart.

poem by Judith Wright
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Love Song For You

When I sing
with my voice,
Hearing the sound
from my soul
from my guitar

When I play guitar
with my fingers
hear the songs
from my lovers
from a remote place

When I shout
please hear my echo
hear my song
from the empty cave

When I whistle
hear my songs
from a ship and plane
from a temple
to sing my love song.

When I sing my story
to God and loved ones
Please hear and understand
the story of love
for You and Me.

This is the Love song
Specially For You, my dear,
Listen carefully,
follow your instinct
and intuition.

poem by Lawrence Hiung
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You Can't Have Everything

The Queensland sun shines early in the morning
And keeps on burning hotter through the day
And though the Parklands watered by the sprinklers
Through the pale green patches of brown through gray.

But I know of a Land of natural greeness
Where Spring doesn't often come till early May
Though birds from early April on nest building
In that green Country half a World away.

I close my eyes I hear the dipper singing
And wild flowers bloom along the mountain stream
And chaffinch pipes his happy notes to April
And grass is growing and fields look lush and green.

Here in the Gold Coast in deep south of Queensland
The lorikeets and noisy miners sing
They have only known the warmth of the sub tropics
Where Winter's warmer than the northern Spring.

In distant Land above the bracken mountain
The lark is piping in the morning sky
Till lost to view he soars towards gathering rain clouds
And singing ever singing as he fly.

In South Queensland the rain is always welcome
And sun shine all year round and wild birds sing
But I know of a Country green and wetter
Which goes to prove you can't have everything.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Gifts of Spring

Spring Seems to come over night,
Bringing beauty with all its might.

The sun shines down all around.
It makes spring colors come to life.
Without the sun...spring would be no fun.

You can hear the tulips humming in your ear,
As they kick their growing into second gear.

You can feel the water drizzling down from the deep blue sky,
As you watch the robins fly oh so high.

Fireflies buzz on by,
As they light up the midnight sky

The wind fills the air with murmurs,
That sound like little drummers.

All of these together mean spring
'Spring...spring, ' they all sing.

And when the spread the news,
There will be the most amazing views.

And then the flowers begin to wilt.
The start to turn, twist, and tilt.

Sadly, spring comes to an end,
But don't worry...summer is just around the bend.

poem by Candace Johnson
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Troubadours

From the ancient sun to the old heart stove come the troubadours
From the city gates to the castle walls its the troubadours
On a sunlit day it was bright and clear
And the people came from far and they came from near
To hear the troubadours
Well the troubadours sang their songs of love to the lady fair
She was sitting outside on a balcony in in the cool night air
It was a starry night the moon was shining bright
And the trumpets rang and they gave a chime
For the troubadours
And for everyman all across the land and from shore to shore
They came singin songs of love and chivalry from the days of yore
Baby lift your window high do you hear that sound
Its the troubadours as they go through town
Baby lift your window high do you hear that sound
Its the troubadours with their freedom song
Lift your window high turn your lamp down low baby
Dont you know I love you so
Lift your window high do you dig that sound
Its the troubadours coming through town

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bredon Hill

In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
A happy noise to hear.

Here of a Sunday morning
My love and I would lie,
And see the coloured counties,
And hear the larks so high
About us in the sky.

The bells would ring to call her
In valleys miles away:
'Come all to church, good people;
Good people, come and pray.
But here my love would stay.

And I would turn and answer
Among the springing thyme,
'Oh, peal upon our wedding,
And we will hear the chime,
And come to church in time.

But when the snows at Christmas
On Bredon top were strewn,
My love rose up so early
And stole out unbeknown
And went to church alone.

They tolled the one bell only,
Groom there was none to see,
The mourners followed after,
And so to church went she,
And would not wait for me.

The bells they sound on Bredon,
And still the steeples hum.
'Come all to church, good people,' -
Oh, noisy bells, be dumb;
I hear you, I will come.

poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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The Skylark Sing Above The Mountain

The skylark sing above the mountain brow
And robin piping on the leafy bough
And lush green meads scent of the blooms of May
And it's Spring in a green Land far away.

I feel homesick at this time every year
I close my eyes the dunnock's voice i hear
In leafy grove the chaffinch chirp and sing
It would be nice to be home for the Spring.

It would be nice to go back home right now
When there is so much beauty to be seen
The birds are singing, wildflowers everywhere
And woods and valleys wear their richest green.

The currawongs are down from higher hills
I hear them calling on the tall gum trees
And morning air has breath of Winter chill
Whilst it's Spring in Ireland far beyond the seas.

If i had enough money i would go back home
If only for a month or even two
Enjoy the Spring, enjoy the peace and quiet
And do the things that i most like to do.

The skylark sing above the mountain brow
And robin piping on the leafy bough
And lush green meads scent of the blooms of May
And it's Spring in a green Land far away.

poem by Francis Duggan
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To The Young Poets!

there comes a time
when the fire we have tended,
calls for new hands.
when the wind we have rode,
beckons for new friends.
and when the path that
leads to discovery,
needs a new body, a new soul.
when the battle for justice,
calls for new voices.
leaves turn brown and fall,
and winter snows come.
but spring always returns,
with new leaves and new song.
take what we have given,
and build an even bigger fire.
spread your wings, taste the sky,
past the limits of our endurance.
and when you get to the top
of the highest mountain...
the applause you hear
will be the ghosts of old poets.

shine on!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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I saw my love only once

the flowers of spring
are not as lovely as you;
the mountain air in solitude
not as pure as you

I saw you only once
in the Grand House of the Lord of the Lands
and we exchanged glances as you sang
And though you sang
from a printed text for all
your eyes gave me
songs of longing and love

O where are you now
most gentle beloved?
I hear your owners move you
at the request of the Grand Lords
and though I
come to so many sessions
in which you might sing
and hoping each night
I might see you again
as I carry cups and meat for the feasting Lords
and that there as you deliver them the songs in the texts
I come that
you might look again at me
and give me the songs in your eyes

the flowers of spring
are not as lovely as you;
the mountain air in solitude
not as pure as you

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

Once I was a sentimental thing,
Threw my heart away each spring;
Now a spring romance hasnt got a chance
Promised my first dance to winter;
All Ive got to shows a splinter for my little fling!
Spring this year has got me feeling like a horse that never left the post;
I lie in my room staring up at the ceiling,
Spring can really hang you up the most!
Mornings kiss wakes tres and flowers,
And to them Id like to drink a toast;
I walk in the park just to kill lonely hours,
Spring can really hang you up the most.
All afternoon those birds twitter twit,
I know the tune, this is love, this is it!
Heard it before and I know the score,
And Ive decided that spring is a bore!
Love seemed sure around the new year,
Now its april, love is just a ghost;
Spring arrived on time, only what became of you, dear?
Spring can really hang you up the most!
Spring can really hang you up the most!
Spring is here, theres no mistaking
Robins building nests from coast to coast;
My heart tries to sing so they wont hear it breaking,
Spring can really hang you up the most!
College boys are writing sonnets,
In the tender passion theyre engrossed;
But Im on the shelf with last years easter bonnets,
Spring can really hang you up the most!
Love came my way, I hope it would last;
We had our day, now thats all in the past!
Spring came along a season of son,
Full of sweet promise but womething went wrong!
Doctors once prescribed a tonic,
Sulphur and moloasses was the dose;
Didnt help a bit, my condition must be chronic,
Spring can really hang you up the most!
All alone, the partys over,
Old man winter was a gracious host;
But when you keep praying for snow to hide the clover
Spring can really hang you up the most!

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Prime Of September

The paddocks looking yellow where the capeweed does bloom
And bright golden flowers on the gorse and the broom
And the flute of the shrike thrush is pleasant to hear
In the prime of September in the Spring of the year
At this time of year the musical magpies they sing day and night
How pleasant to hear them piping in the moonlight
And blackbird by his voice you cannot get wrong
He welcomes the dawn of the day with a song
Frisky lambs in the paddocks are frolicking about
When the Goddess of Spring is in the Land of the south
The laughter of the kookaburra the call of the weerloo
The big dark brown bird better known as yellow tail black cockatoo
Fruit bearing trees in blossom and nesting birds sing
In the prime of September in the southern Spring.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Blackbird's Song

The blackbird's song it takes me far away
To northern Land and to a distant day
His kin birds sang all day until sundown
In leafy groves just out of Millstreet Town.

A blackbird piping on a blackwood tree
Awake the nostalgic memories in me
Again I walk the lush green fields in Spring
And hear the wild birds on the hedgerows sing.

Bluebells bloom by the hedge by the bohreen
And cock pheasant often heard though seldom seen
In the knee high rushes clap his wings and crow
By their calls and songs the birds you get to know.

The distance from the home fields may be long
But whenever the migrant hear the blackbird's song
He or she will see the lushness brought by rain
And walk through fields where wild flowers bloom again.

To it the blackbird's song has a nostalgic ring
It takes the migrant to a distant Spring
And though far distant the Homeland near 'twould seem
And the dipper's song is echoing in the stream.

I thought this thing nostalgia I'd outgrown
But the blackbird's song it carries me back home
And I walk the high fields where I walked before
Up to the hill through the wood at Claramore

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Bellbirds Are Singing

In the high woods of South Belgrave from here far away
The bellbirds are singing in Birdsland today
Like many tiny bells their pleasant ringing sound
Echo in the woodland on the higher ground.

The bellbirds or bell miners sparrow sized and green
Are easier to hear than they are to be seen
But their constant calls of their whereabouts tell
Though with their surroundings they seem to blend well.

The songs of the bellbirds so bell like and clear
In the high wood at Birdsland so pleasant to hear
Yet some who know of Nature have been known to say
That bellbirds they live where there is tree decay.

The early days of August a month from the Spring
And the songs of the bellbirds through the gum woodland ring
In warm sunny weather and in weather cold, wet, windy and severe
The bellbirds they sing the twelve months of the year.

In the high wood at Birdsland from here far away
The bellbirds are singing on this August day
The magpies are fluting in the cool of daybreak
And the songs of the bellbirds one cannot mistake.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Mountain Of Love

(downbeat, denny. denny. downbeat!)
(*laughter*)
(what? )
(get out of here!)
(oh, man!)
(oh, rock out!)
Standin on a mountain lookin down on a city
The way I feel is a doggone pity
Teardrops fallin down the mountainside
Many times Ive been here, many times Ive cried
We used to be so happy when we were in love
High on a mountain of love
Night after night Im a-standin here alone
Weepin out my heart (*laugh*) till the cold grey dawn
Prayin that youre lonely and youll come here too
Hopin just by chance that Ill get a glimpse of you
(oh yeah!)
Trying hard to find you somewhere up above
High on a mountain of love
The mountain of love, the mountain of love
You should be ashamed
You used to be a mountain of love
But you just changed your name
Way down below theres a half a million people
Somewhere theres a church with a big tall steeple
Inside the church, theres an altar filled with flowers
Wedding bells are ringin and they shouldve been ours
Thats why Im so handy, my dream is gone above
High on a mountain of love
([...])
(keep playin it like it is!)
([...])
High on a mountain of love
The mountain of love, the mountain of love
You should be ashamed
You used to be a mountain of love
But you just changed your name
Way down below theres a half a million people
Somewhere theres a church with a big tall steeple
Inside the church, theres an altar filled with flowers
Wedding bells are ringin and they shouldve been ours
Thats why Im so lonely, my dream is gone above
High on a mountain of love
High on a mountain of love
High on a mountain of love
High on a mountain of love
(what, honey? )
High on a mountain of love.
(hahahaha.)
Ooh baby...
(thats good.)
...one more time. oooh baby. oooooo.
(thats a good voice.)

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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River Deep, Mountain High

When I was a little girl
I had a rag doll
Only doll Ive ever owned
Now I love you just the way I loved that rag doll
But only now my love has grown
And it gets stronger, in every way
And it gets deeper, let me say
And it gets higher, day by day
And do I love you my oh my
Yeh river deep mountain high
If I lost you would I cry
Oh how I love you baby, baby, baby, baby
When you were a young boy
Did you have a puppy
That always followed you around
Well Im gonna be as faithful as that puppy
No Ill never let you down
Cause it grows stronger, like a river flows
And it gets bigger baby, and heaven knows
And it gets sweeter baby, as it grows
And do I love you my oh my
Yeh river deep, mountain high
If I lost you would I cry
Oh how I love you baby, baby, baby, baby
I love you baby like a flower loves the spring
And I love you baby just like tina loves to sing
And I love you baby like a school boy loves his pet
And I love you baby, river deep mountain high
Oh yeah youve gotta believe me
River deep, mountain high
Do I love you my oh my, oh baby
River deep, mountain high
If I lost you would I cry
Oh how I love you baby, baby, baby, baby
(bis)

song performed by by Celine Dion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A deleted version

I love to hear the song
But not by my ear
The song is penned for some body
Who turns the song towards me?
After a few of serious songs
This melody seeks to set right me.
My heart longs to hear the song, however
Sing to kill me.
When I hear the hymn of the song
I feel I am in battlefield with no foes,
And
Rain is nowhere….but I am in rain.
Don’t sing for me-because
I got the upsetting curse not to listen this song.
My heart vehemently turns down the sound.
Carve the lyrics on my heart
By that
No humans perceive the sound of my heart’s whispering.
These absolute lines will be coming to my end
As a deleted version.

poem by Glorious Alice
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Durango Mountain Caballero

This song was first released on the rocky mountain holiday album. it is the only album it has been released on.
You know I love the trail Im on
And the friends who ride with me
The country that were passing through
Is a paradise to see
A haven for my spirit
The homeland of my dreams
My heart flies through the wilderness
And on an eagles wings
And oh I love the waterfall
And the way the river sings
From snowcapped peaks both proud and tall
Through forests deep and green
The highway of the mountains
The lifeblood of the land
I can hear my mother speak to me
And hold my fathers hand
Durango mountain caballero
Take me for a ride
On the backbone of this mighty land
The continental divide
To the place where earth and heaven meet
The mountains and the sky
In the heart of colorado
Rocky mountain high
And oh I love the campfire
And the circle that Im in
The stories and the laughter
They should never ever end
Forever in my memory
Forever in my song
On a san juan mountain trail ride
Ill carry you along
Words and music by john denver

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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