Village Song
HONEY, child, honey, child, whither are you going?
Would you cast your jewels all to the breezes blowing?
Would you leave the mother who on golden grain has fed you?
Would you grieve the lover who is riding forth to wed you?
Mother mine, to the wild forest I am going,
Where upon the champa boughs the champa buds are blowing;
To the köil-haunted river-isles where lotus lilies glisten,
The voices of the fairy folk are calling me: O listen!
Honey, child, honey, child, the world is full of pleasure,
Of bridal-songs and cradle-songs and sandal-scented leisure.
Your bridal robes are in the loom, silver and saffron glowing,
Your bridal cakes are on the hearth: O whither are you going?
The bridal-songs and cradle-songs have cadences of sorrow,
The laughter of the sun to-day, the wind of death to-morrow.
Far sweeter sound the forest-notes where forest-streams are falling;
O mother mine, I cannot stay, the fairy-folk are calling.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Related quotes
The Fairy Boy
A mother came when stars were paling,
Wailing round a lonely spring,
Thus she cried, while tears were falling
Calling on the Fairy King:
'Why, with spells my child caressing,
Courting him with fairy joy,
Why destroy a mother's blessing,
Wherefore steal my baby boy?
'O'er the mountain, thro' the wild wood,
Where his childhood loved to play,
Where the flow'rs are freshly springing,
There I wander day by day;
There I wander, growing fonder
Of the child that made my joy,
On the echoes wildly calling
To restore my fairy boy.
'But in vain my plaintive calling,
Tears are falling all in vain,
He now sports with fairy pleasure,
He's the treasure of their train!
Fare-thee-well! my child, for ever,
In this world I've lost my joy,
But in the
next
we ne'er shall sever,
There I'll find my angel boy.'
poem by Samuel Lover
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Honey Child
Well, the first time that I met you, You were only seventeen,
But I had to put you down, 'Cause I didn't know where you'd been.
You had a long black dress, Your hair in a mess,
You didn't seem to have no class, But the look on
your face was no disgrace, I knew I had to move real fast.
Honey Child, Don't you know you drive me wild! Oh, Honey Child,
Don't you know you drive me wild! Just about to lose my mind.
Well the second time that I met you, You were just turned
twenty-one, An' all your talk about love, Love was gone, long gone.
Oh, Honey Child, Don't you know you drive me wild! Honey child,
Don't you know you drive me wild! Just about to lose my mind.
Yeah, yeah.
Oh, honey child, Don't you know you drive me wild, mm.
Honey child, Don't you know you drive me wild. Honey child,
Don't you know you drive me wild. Oh, yeah, honey child,
Don't you know you drive me wild. Oh, oh, honey child,
Don't you know you drive me wild. Honey child, now,
Don't you know you drive me wild, Yeah, yeah.
Honey, honey, honey, honey child, Don't you know you drive me wild.
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovely Lap
Vavroovahana patra
River valley beneath the palm trees
glows with funeral pyre.
Hymns reverberates the air
with the marital fire.
The soul searches ‘Lord Siva’s realm;
The bride ties the bride groom’s palm.
She smiles on the altar,
Lustrous radiant silvery face glitters.
Conjugal life blooms with desire;
Like the morning sun’s fire.
Eternal love is pregnant with dream.
Like the blow of a wood land stream.
Lovers find love
as devotees pray God.
Its as to ‘Siva linga’ an offering of
Garland of champak and from him desire a perennial
brook of nectar to flood.
Bridal songs and cradle songs
Have cadences of sorrow;
The laughter of the sun today,
The wind of death tomorrow.
Child’s love is motherly lap’s solitude.
Beloved’s Heaven is lover’s gratitude.
THANK YOU
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Champa
If want to make night dreams fragrant
garden ornamental and wet in scent;
ensure Champa is there.
In temple at worship you wish to offer
In weddings, festivals need the flowers
ensure champa is there.
Honey bees can't know what's here
girls go aromatic with Champa in hair
ensure champa is there.
If you want vampires and ghosts
Play their mischief in cemetery itself
ensure Champa is there.
Contained five elements in our body
Champa holds five petals to signify
ensures champa is there.
(C) S. D. Tiwari
sdtiwari1@gmail
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Wild Honey
Sweet sweet wild honey bee
Eat up eat up eat up honey
Mama Im tellin you as sure as Im standing here
Shes my girl and thats the way Im keeping it now mama dear
No good will it do you to stand there and frown at me
The girls got my heart and my loves coming down on me
My loves coming down since I got a taste of wild honey
You know shes got the sweetness of a honey bee
Wild honey
She got it on and stung me good yes sirree
With all the other stud bees buzzing all around her hive
She singled me out single handed took me alive
Well can you can you gonna take my life eating up her wild honey
(sweet sweet wild honey bee)
(eat up eat up eat up honey)
Oh mama shes sweeter
Gettin sweeter
Sweeter sweeter
Sweet
Wild honey
Let me tell you how she really got to my soul
It aint funny
The way she make wanna sing a little rock n roll
Theres nothing quite nice as a kiss of wild honey
I break my back workin just to save me some money
So I can spend my life with her
Sock it to me wild honey
Wild honey shes mine
Wild honey shes mine
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother, I May Have Been A Naughty Child
Mother, I may have been a naughty child,
But I am your child nevertheless!
You own the world, mother, you are the queen of the world,
And look at me, I go about in the habit of a beggar.
You are bent on neglecting me,
But I love you anyway, it is you, only you that I call upon.
Just as a child runs to his mother even after she has scolded him,
So do I run to you.
How could you push me away from you, mother,
You are my mother, are you not?
Oh, why did you cast me away, mother,
Leave me to play in the dust?
I would have been a better child,
Had only you been a little more kind to me.
I am sad and angry, mother,
I shall go away anywhere my eyes and my feet take me to.
I do not care now whether i live or die now, mother,
I am going away.
poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam
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Wild Honey
B. wilson
Mama Im tellin you as sure as Im standin here
Shes my girl and thats the way Im keepin it my mama dear
No good will it do you to stand there and frown at me
The girls got my heart and my loves comin down on me
Last time I met her since I got a taste of wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
You know shes got the sweetness of the honey bee
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Honey, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) she got me all and stung me good, oh, yesiree
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Before he even stung bees buzzin around her hive
She singled me out, single handed took me alive
Im gonna take her home and spend my life
Eatin up the wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Oh mama shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Yaaaa, honey (sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Let me tell you how she really got to my soul (sweet,sweet my honey)
It aint funny, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) the way she made me want to sing a little rock and
Roll (sweet, sweet, my honey)
Theres nothing quite as good as the taste of wild honey
Break my back workin just to save me some money
I can spend my life with her eatin up her wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Oh honey shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Now
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some(shes the one)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some wild honey
Gimme some gimme some..........
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Honey Pie
Pixies - wild honey pie
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie
Honey pie, honey pie, honey pie, honey piieehoooeyeah
(john lennon/paul mccartney)
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beauty of a Mother
The beauty of a woman starts
When her womb begins to grow
The child that she'll give birth
Soon will call her, “my mother”
The beauty of a mother reigns
When her arms cradle her child
And her charm shines within
Her heart full of love and care
The beauty of mother un-fades
When her hands guide her child
In all places walking side by side
To protect her child from danger
The beauty of a mother is her brain
To teach her child to read and write
To let the child know the difference
Of what is wrong and what is right
The beauty of a mother is her act
To treat her child without compare
To list none of whatsoever is best
For her child is the gem of her life
Then the beauty of mother reflects
From the eyes of her child in return
To respect, love, and care for her
When age and time set them apart
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honey Hi
Written by christine mcvie.
Honey, honey, honey
Who could be sweeter than you
Honey, honey, honey
Bitter sweet, but what can I do
Lord, its good to talk to you
Even sweeter than wine
Dont take the love light away
cause Im far away from home
Daddy, all Im trying to tell you
Lord, I really love you, love you, love you
Honey, honey, honey hi
Honey, honey, honey hi
Honey, honey, honey hi.
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Child
(bolin/coverdale)
You can walk thro fire,
Make the north wind blow
Squeeze n tease me honey
When you shake your body
You move my soul...
Let me be your lover
Wont you let me be your child
Take me through your universe
Yknow that when you smile
You drive me wild...
Love child
Driving me wild
Love child
Always teasin me
You can ride your pony
Day dream in fairy tales
All I know, is I need more,
When I see you dance the seven veils...
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song of The Stream-Drops
By silent forest and field and mossy stone,
We come from the wooden hill, and we go to the sea.
We labour, and sing sweet songs, but we never moan,
For our mother, the sea, is calling us cheerily.
We have heard her calling us many and many a day
From the cool grey stones and the white sands far away.
The way is long, and winding and slow is the track,
The sharp rocks fret us, the eddies bring us delay,
But we sing sweet songs to our mother, and answer her back;
Gladly we answer our mother, sweetly repay.
Oh, we hear, we hear her singing wherever we roam,
Far, far away in the silence, calling us home.
Poor mortal, your ears are dull, and you cannot hear;
But we, we hear it, the breast of our mother abeat;
Low, far away, sweet and solemn and clear,
Under the hush of the night, under the noon-tide heat:
And we sing sweet songs to our mother, for so we shall please her best,
Songs of beauty and peace, freedom and infinite rest.
We sing, and sing, through the grass and the stones and the reeds,
And we never grow tired, though we journey ever and aye,
Dreaming, and dreaming, wherever the long way leads,
Of the far cool rocks and the rush of the wind and the spray.
Under the sun and the stars we murmur and dance and are free,
And we dream and dream of our mother, the width of the sheltering sea.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Perfect Harmony
In a world so far away
At the end of a closing day
A little child was born and raised
Deep in the forest on a hidden place
Mother never saw his face
Ancient spirits of the forest
Made him king of elves and trees
He was the only human being
Who lived in harmony
In perfect harmony
The woods protected, fulfillled his needs
Fruit by birds, honey by bees
He found shelter under trees
He grew up in their company
They became his family
A thousand seasons
They passed him by
So many times, have said goodbye
And when the spirits called out his name
To join forever, forever to stay
A forest spirit he became
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perfect Harmony
In a world so far away
At the end of a closing day
A little child was born and raised
Deep in the forest on a hidden place
Mother never saw his face
Ancient spirits of the forest
Made him king of elves and trees
He was the only human being
Who lived in harmony
In perfect harmony
The woods protected, fulfillled his needs
Fruit by birds, honey by bees
He found shelter under trees
He grew up in their company
They became his family
A thousand seasons
They passed him by
So many times, have said goodbye
And when the spirits called out his name
To join forever, forever to stay
A forest spirit he became
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mother
A mother shows the child the world
A mother is its world when small
A mother shows the child what's love
A mother loves her child like a doll!
A mother makes the home and bed
A mother cares for all at home
A mother trains the child to walk
And stand on own, perfectly talk.
A mother is the teacher prime
A mother moulds the character
A mother shows the child to pray
And trust the unseen God all life.
A mother is the child's best friend
A mother knows its needs and wants
A mother cares for child when sick
And feels so proud, when child achieves.
Children, thank God for a good mother
On ‘Mother's day! '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 13-05-12
poem by John Celes
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Warmth, not wealth, feeds
A mother in penury has her child
Suckles her breast and slumber on her lap.
A mother in luxury buys her child
A feeding bottle and a silver cradle.
The child of the poor is rich in warmth,
Though with no silver spoon in its mouth.
17.09.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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An Old Colonist's Reverie
Dustily over the highway pipes the loud nor'-wester at morn,
Wind and the rising sun, and waving tussock and corn;
It brings to me days gone by when first in my ears it rang,
The wind is the voice of my home, and I think of the songs it sang
When, fresh from the desk and ledger, I crossed the long leagues of sea
'The old worn world is gone and the new bright world is free.'
The wide, wild pastures of old are fading and passing away,
All over the plain are the homes of the men who have come to stay
I sigh for the good old days in the station whare again;
But the good new days are better
I would not be heard to complain;
It is only the wind that cries with tears in its voice to me
Of the dead men low in the mould who came with me over the sea.
Some of them down in the city under the marble are laid,
Some on the bare hillside in the mound by the lone tree shade,
And some in the forest deeps of the west in their silence lie,
With the dark pine curtain above shutting out the blue of the sky.
And many have passed from my sight, whither I never shall know,
Swept away in the rushing river or caught in the mountain snow;
All the old hands are gone who came with me over the sea,
But the land that we made our own is the same bright land to me.
There are dreams in the gold of the kowhai, and when ratas are breaking in bloom
I can hear the rich murmur of voices in the deeps of the fern-shadowed gloom.
Old memory may bring me her treasures from the land of the blossoms of May,
But to me the hill daisies are dearer and the gorse on the river bed grey;
While the mists on the high hilltops curling, the dawn-haunted
haze of the sea,
To my fancy are bridal veils lifting from the face of the land of the free.
The speargrass and cabbage trees yonder, the honey-belled flax in its bloom,
The dark of the bush on the sidings, the snow-crested mountains that loom
Golden and grey in the sunlight, far up in the cloud-fringed blue,
Are the threads with old memory weaving and the line of my life
running through;
And the wind of the morning calling has ever a song for me
Of hope for the land of the dawning in the golden years to be.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Freedom poems) Fairy child
Fairy child
You child of a god
Fairy child
You have given
up your freedom
Fairy
Fairy child
And now you roam
our world free
Fairy child
because
you know no borders
and your education
Ain't enough fairy child
So you cross borders
to disrespect international
Treaties
You're wanted by INTERPOL
(Can you spell that out loud?)
and the host of
The international agencies
you fairy child
You will know forwards
Fairy child
That the world serves
the interests of one
Super state
When the sanctions
begin to bite fairy child
You will cry like your
Fairy mama fairy
Because here there's
the scarcity
of the sanctions busters
Fairy child
You better go away fairy child
And find yourself
A love mate in Tokyo
Fairy child
'Cause in Tel Aviv
They hunt down the black
infiltrators
Yes they do fairy child
'cause they fear the black brothers
'cause they and the Israelis
Share the same black ancestor fairy child
You better run my brother
And fall in love and marry yourself
off to a Ethiop woman
To get a alien citizenship fairy child
'Cause as stateless as you are now
You're a sitting duck
For INTERPOL and Scotland Yard
Fairy child
Say nothing in Guantanamo Bay
Fairy child
When they come to interrogate
you fairy child
Fairy child fairy child
You child of a god
I warned you my brother
The laws of the brother Humanity
are harsh my man
Now you're sitting there and
all your life you've been
Apolitical fairy child
Now you're sitting with the politicals
Waiting for the interrogator
To interrogate you
For the politics of power
You know the science of which not
It's cold on the Cuban island prison
Fairy child
You chew on your blues
And you even miss the gilded
gates of the flames of hell
Fairy child
Fairy child...
Naive!
poem by Ngaka Motaung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saigon
You got everything that a girl should grow
Im so afraid to kiss you I might lose control
You can hold me tighter but turn loose of my gun
Its a sentimental present all the way from saigon
Honey, honey, honey, please call me
You dont need no money we can do it for free
I got a friend in phoenix with a two-way radio
All the static in my attic getting ready to blow
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
All the static in my attic getting ready to blow
I was talking to the mailman late last week
He had a letter in his sweater from stuttering don
He said things are getting better in sa, sa, sa, sa, sa
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Things are getting better back in saigon
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Things are getting better back in saigon
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Things are getting better back in saigon
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Saigon, honey, honey, honey
Things are getting better back in saigon
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Old Colonist's Reverie
Dustily over the highway pipes the loud nor'-wester at morn,
Wind and the rising sun, and waving tussock and corn;
It brings to me days gone by when first in my ears it rang,
The wind is the voice of my home, and I think of the songs it sang
When, fresh from the desk and ledger, I crossed the long leagues of sea --
"The old worn world is gone and the new bright world is free."
The wide, wild pastures of old are fading and passing away,
All over the plain are the homes of the men who have come to stay --
I sigh for the good old days in the station whare again;
But the good new days are better -- I would not be heard to complain;
It is only the wind that cries with tears in its voice to me
Of the dead men low in the mould who came with me over the sea.
Some of them down in the city under the marble are laid,
Some on the bare hillside in the mound by the lone tree shade,
And some in the forest deeps of the west in their silence lie,
With the dark pine curtain above shutting out the blue of the sky.
And many have passed from my sight, whither I never shall know,
Swept away in the rushing river or caught in the mountain snow;
All the old hands are gone who came with me over the sea,
But the land that we made our own is the same bright land to me.
There are dreams in the gold of the kowhai, and when ratas are breaking
in bloom
I can hear the rich murmur of voices in the deeps of the fern-shadowed gloom.
Old memory may bring me her treasures from the land of the blossoms of May,
But to me the hill daisies are dearer and the gorse on the river bed grey;
While the mists on the high hilltops curling, the dawn-haunted
haze of the sea,
To my fancy are bridal veils lifting from the face of the land of the free.
The speargrass and cabbage trees yonder, the honey-belled flax in its bloom,
The dark of the bush on the sidings, the snow-crested mountains that loom
Golden and grey in the sunlight, far up in the cloud-fringed blue,
Are the threads with old memory weaving and the line of my life
running through;
And the wind of the morning calling has ever a song for me
Of hope for the land of the dawning in the golden years to be.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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