Wandering Singers
WHERE the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet,
Through echoing forest and echoing street,
With lutes in our hands ever-singing we roam,
All men are our kindred, the world is our home.
Our lays are of cities whose lustre is shed,
The laughter and beauty of women long dead;
The sword of old battles, the crown of old kings,
And happy and simple and sorrowful things.
What hope shall we gather, what dreams shall we sow?
Where the wind calls our wandering footsteps we go.
No love bids us tarry, no joy bids us wait:
The voice of the wind is the voice of our fate.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Related quotes
Wind Child
The Wind has a voice,
A sad, sweet voice
I've heard it sing
Long and beautiful
Like Wind should be,
Carrying forever
The singing Wind is rarely heard
It's quiet and soft and
Unnoticeable
I am a Wind Child
I hear the Wind as
She sings her sad, sweet song
I am a Wind Child
And I sing with the Wind
Wind Children are rare as
True Hope
Special as Love
Wind Child
Is me
poem by Sahar Alive
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A Voice On The Wind
I
She walks with the wind on the windy height
When the rocks are loud and the waves are white,
And all night long she calls through the night,
'O my children, come home!'
Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered cloud,
Tosses around her like a shroud,
While over the deep her voice rings loud,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
II
Who is she who wanders alone,
When the wind drives sheer and the rain is blown?
Who walks all night and makes her moan,
'O my children, come home!'
Whose face is raised to the blinding gale;
Whose hair blows black and whose eyes are pale,
While over the world goes by her wail,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
III
She walks with the wind in the windy wood;
The dark rain drips from her hair and hood,
And her cry sobs by, like a ghost pursued,
'O my children, come home!'
Where the trees loom gaunt and the rocks stretch drear,
The owl and the fox crouch back with fear,
As wild through the wood her voice they hear,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
IV
Who is she who shudders by
When the boughs blow bare and the dead leaves fly?
Who walks all night with her wailing cry,
'O my children, come home!'
Who, strange of look, and wild of tongue,
With wan feet wounded and hands wild-wrung,
Sweeps on and on with her cry, far-flung,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
V
'Tis the Spirit of Autumn, no man sees,
The mother of Death and of Mysteries,
Who cries on the wind all night to these,
'O my children, come home!'
The Spirit of Autumn, pierced with pain,
Calling her children home again,
Death and Dreams, through ruin and rain,-
'O my children, come home, come home!
O my children, come home!'
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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No Other Voice
There is no other voice I miss as much
When I'm far from my home, your laughter, your touch
There's no music on earth I'd rather hear
No other voice but yours
Your birdsong in the morning
You're the wind in the trees
The lapping of night waves on tropical seas
You're the sound of my heart beat, my breathing, my life
The lullabye rocking our babies to sleep at night
And through the dead of the voices I scream in my head
There is only one voice that sings love songs instead
There is no other sound that speaks straight to my heart
There is no other voice
not even a choice
There is no other voice but yours
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night and Wind
The night is light and chill,
Stars are awake in the sky,
There's a cloud over the moon;
Round the house on the hill
The wind creeps with its cry
Between a wail and a croon.
I hear the voice of the wind,
The voice of the wind in the night,
Cry and sob and weep,
As the voice of one that hath sinned
Moaning aloud in its might
In the night when he cannot sleep.
Sleep? No sleep is about.
What remembering sin
Wakes and watches apart?...
The wind wails without,
And my heart is wailing within,
And the wind is the voice of my heart.
poem by Arthur Symons
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The Final And Fresh Sun
The sun calls back of its rays,
And ready to go far behind,
Birds and cattle are on their ways,
To reach their home before day truns blind.
The sea is calm and fish on rest,
And cold winds from the west,
Passing through every mount, forest and valley,
A spirited and melodious voice I hear,
Wishing us warmly Keats and Shelley,
Of coming a lively and happy new year.
The breezy blows and breaks the day,
In the foggy morn the sun does shine,
The pearls are lying on greenw clay,
That really invites a revolt wine.
Make much efforts and less endure,
Hope to raise and fear not to feline,
Then wait for help from the Azure,
And joys'll wait for thee in single line,
Singing it the wind moves everywhere,
And says to whole creation a happy new year.
(01.01.2008)
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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King
Now is the time to reach for the sky
Gather the wind hear the voice to fly
To know why they sing about heroes and kings
Who were brave and not afraid to die
Look and you'll see that a new day will bring
The will to go on and fight through endless suffering
For all who believe wait a crown a ring
The power of the man who would be king
The power of the man who would be king
Into the fight of hopes and dreams
The master of the wind knows nothing's what is seems
The melting of the soul the wish of those who scheme
The taking of the will by destroyers of the dream
They live to spread the fear of the wrong of right of self
They want us all to live like books upon a shelf
But we know we have the power to fight and make a stand
Strike when we are challenged all across the land to be king
Fight for the crown
song performed by by Manowar from Louder Than Hell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rose Of Battle
ROSE of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
The tall thought-woven sails, that flap unfurled
Above the tide of hours, trouble the air,
And God's bell buoyed to be the water's care;
While hushed from fear, or loud with hope, a band
With blown, spray-dabbled hair gather at hand,
Turn if you may from battles never done,
I call, as they go by me one by one,
Danger no refuge holds, and war no peace,
For him who hears love sing and never cease,
Beside her clean-swept hearth, her quiet shade:
But gather all for whom no love hath made
A woven silence, or but came to cast
A song into the air, and singing passed
To smile on the pale dawn; and gather you
Who have sougft more than is in rain or dew,
Or in the sun and moon, or on the earth,
Or sighs amid the wandering, starry mirth,
Or comes in laughter from the sea's sad lips,
And wage God's battles in the long grey ships.
The sad, the lonely, the insatiable,
To these Old Night shall all her mystery tell;
God's bell has claimed them by the little cry
Of their sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
Beauty grown sad with its eternity
Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea.
Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait,
For God has bid them share an equal fate;
And when at last, defeated in His wars,
They have gone down under the same white stars,
We shall no longer hear the little cry
Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Lover Of My Soul
When I see the winter turning into spring
Oh, it speaks to this heart of mine
More than anything
Underneath a blanket of snow, cold and white
Something is stirring in the still of the night
And then the sun comes up, slowly with the dawn
Oh, this is the kind of feeling
That I hang my hope upon
There is love and beauty in all that I see
And no one, nobody, is explaining You to me
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
And when the evening comes, and sunlight fades to red
And time and time and time again
I whisper in my head
'Give me strength, give me faith', to fully believe
That the Maker of this whole, wide world
Is a Father to me
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
I need the voice, I need the touch
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain
The things that I know so well
Tender and sweet, and strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
I know the voice, I know the touch
Lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
Oh, You're the lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
You are the lover of my soul
Talkin' to me and the things I know
You are the lover of my soul
In the wind, and the rain, and the snow...
You are the lover of my soul
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Autumn Wind
I.
HUSH, moaning autumn wind! be still, be still!
Thy grieving voice forbiddeth hearts to rest;
We hear thee sweeping down the lonely hill,
And mournful thoughts crowd o'er the human breast.
Why wilt thou haunt us, with thy voice unkind,
Sadd'ning the earth? Hush, moaning autumn wind!
II.
Toss not the branching trees so wildly high,
Filling the forest with thy dreary sound:
Without thy aid the hues of summer die,
And the sear leaves fall scatter'd to the ground.
Thou dost but hasten, needlessly unkind,
The winter's task, thou moaning autumn wind!
III.
Sweep not thro' Ocean's caves with hollow roar,
Driving our fair ships to some rock-bound strand!
While the vex'd sea foams wrathful to the shore,
The seaman's wife looks shuddering from the land,
And widow'd hearts for many a year shall find
Death in thy voice, thou moaning autumn wind!
IV.
Round our calm dwellings, when our hearths are gay,
Roam not, oh howling spirit of Despair!
As tho' thou wert a creature seeking prey,
And where the land look'd richest, found it there.
We have enough of memories unkind
Without thy voice, thou moaning autumn wind!
V.
Thee the sad mourner lists, and turns to weep,
In the blank silence of her lonely home;
The sick man hears, and starts from broken sleep,
And the night-wanderer sighs--compell'd to roam;
While the poor shiver, for their huts unkind
Bar thee not out, thou searching autumn wind!
VI.
Back to the barren hill and lonely glen!
Here let the wandering of thy echoes cease;
Sadly thou soundest to the hearts of men,--
Hush thy wild voice, and let the earth have peace;
Or, if no chain thy restless will can bind,
Sweep thro' the desert, moaning autumn wind!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Sometimes Wind Moves In Secret
Sometimes wind moves in secret
Like a lover or a moon
Sometimes a board will answer
Or a shutter or a loon
Sometimes wind answers itself
Like a woman at the mirror
And sometimes no one's present
Or unwilling to hear
Wind moans over graveyards
As if weeping for the dead
Wind howls at the windows
Like it wants you, in your bed
Wind steals kites of children
Without making any sound
And wind tears off your head scarf
But lifts hair, like a crown
Wind sighs round a lighthouse
Like a sailor blown off course
Wind whispers in the rigging
Like a breeze has lost its voice
Wind dies in the harbor
When the moon is sailing high
But wind sings before morning
When the twilight blush is nigh
poem by Patti Masterman
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Soft As The First Light Of The Beauty Of The Day
Soft as the first light of the beauty of the day
Your voice calls me from sleep
And I hear in our whispers
The love of all quiet times and dreams
The happiness of happy youth and kind laughter
Love in the beauty of all its being
Touching as the joy we give each other.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Recognize Your Voice
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
when I enter a room full of people
and even your soft steps each day
catches me with a tingle time after time,
through your beauty that flowers continually.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
sometimes it feels as if you are waiting on me
but constantly you do astound me
and even your soft steps each day
has a kind of skipping to them
and with being in love I am stupid.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
sometimes hear it echoing at night
although your face is disguised by the darkness
and even your soft steps each day,
but our love is not a game of force
and still continually you turn my life upside down.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter
and even your soft steps each day
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ode To The Voices in the Wind
Voices in the wind so silent
But thou art so triumphant
With a divine hand you create sunlight
By the way you walk in the twilight
Darkness falls in a waterfall of sound
But in truth you never drowned
Hark the voice in the scarce crowd
Whom the voice is proud
Of the luck that commands your strife
Your treasures include a knife
You’re the shinning star of beauty
Others shone mutely
You seek a quiet room where life can roam
In a dress of pale silk you return home
Power, Providence and Prejudice you destroy all
Your strides bring Peace, Pleasure and Pride for those you call
Your home is a quiet place, a cottage on a riverbank
But then you’re a Goddess with no need for rank
You ride an ocean of clarity and beauty which is you
Like a queen you command a battalion, which is true
Thou art but a child, but your love diminishes war
A child and Goddess as one you will soar
I was told all this by one person more
A voice in a wind was all I saw.
There are voices in the wind said the God
But to your face all I could do was nod
poem by James Davies
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Woman In Flight
Woman in flight, like a feather in the wind
I love her despite, the empty promises she uses to bind
She changes her mind, and her voice is always sweet
She leads me blind, like a fire she's the heat
She has a pretty voice, in tears and in laughter
I have no choice, I keep on chasing after
I can't rejoice, I'm a slave and she's my master
But she is always lying, always a miserable character
Who can trust her, who can ever be happy with her
Who can love her, who can ever be loving to her
I concur, i'm an amateur to her
But it will never occur, that she is the one i prefer
Woman in flight, like a feather in the wind
He has a pretty voice, always gentle always sweet
poem by Lucas Miganda
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Cry In The Wind
Are these your words with laughter
Is this your voice begging to be spared
Oh, you seemed so unassailable, you seemed so far away hey hey
Is this a voice begging to be spared
Is this your voice ?
Please, dont speak to me for a while
Are these your words with laughter
Is this your voice begging to be spared
Oh, you seemed so unassailable, you seemed so far away hey hey
Are these your words with laughter
Is this your voice ?
Catch my thoughts on the run
You kissed my hand
Like a friend in the heat of a fight
While those enemies scream
In the heat of a fight
I walked into my dream
Oh fall
Oh fall into your call
I jump I jump I jump
Jump out of time
Out of the fight
Jump jump
Jump out of time
I cry in the wind
I cry in the wind . someone is telling me
A frenzied thing
I cry in the wind I cry
A whisper in my ear
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Voice
Words and Music by
Barry Manilow
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just One Voice,
Singing in the darkness,
All it takes is One Voice,
Singing so they hear what's on your mind,
And when you look aound you'll find
There's more than One Voice,
Singing in the darkness,
Joining with your One Voice,
Ea ch and every note another octave,
Hands are joined and fears unlocked,
If only One Voice would start it on its own,
We need just One Voice facing the unknown,
And that One Voice would never be alone
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Windsong
Windsong
This song appears on seven albums, and was first
Released on the windsong
Album. it has also been released on the rocky
Mountain collection and country
Classics albums. it has been rerecorded on the
Earth songs and the very best
Of john denver (single cd) albums, and rerecorded
Again on the love again
And a celebration of life albums.
The wind is the whisper of our mother the earth
The wind is the hand of our father the sky
The wind watches over our struggles and pleasures
The wind is the goddess who first learned to fly
The wind is the bearer of bad and good tidings
The weaver of darkness, the bringer of dawn
The wind gives the rain, then builds us a rainbow
The wind is the singer who sang the first song
The wind is a twister of anger and warning
The wind brings the fragrance of freshly mown hay
The wind is a racer, a wild stallion running
The sweet taste of love on a slow summers day
The wind knows the songs of the cities and canyons
The thunder of mountains, the roar of the sea
The wind is the taker and giver of mornings
The wind is the symbol of all that is free
So welcome the wind and the wisdom she offers
Follow her summons when she calls again
In your heart and your spirit let the breezes
Surround you
Lift up your voice then and sing with the wind
Words and music by john denver and joe henry
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Riot, a Voice in the Fire
You voice calls out through fire
Is violence all you ever knew
What are you seeking to be heard
When the sky is lit with anger
You voices become lost in a scream
And looters steal from everyone
Without a care for the cost they inflict
This is no revolution in this town
Just a fight against your boredom
Lay down you arms and speak clear
Your voice calls out through fire
While the innocent look on afraid
Their message has been stolen
In the actions you have undertaken
I can see blood on your hands
You are free and freedom is glory
Until you abuse it for terror
What of the freedom of the innocent
What about their voice being heard
Your voice calls out through fire
I don’t even want to listen
Let it burn and pray you will burn with it
Your voice called out in fire
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Echo
Of A Ballad Sung By H. Plunket Greene To His Old School
Twice three hundred boys were we,
Long ago, long ago,
Where the Downs look out to the Severn Sea.
Clifton for aye!
We held by the game and hailed the team,
For many could play where few could dream.
City of Song shall stand alway.
Some were for profit and some for pride,
Long ago, long ago,
Some for the flag they lived and died.
Clifton for aye!
The work of the world must still be done,
And minds are many though truth be one.
City of Song shall stand alway.
But a lad there was to his fellows sang,
Long ago, long ago,
And soon the world to his music rang.
Clifton for aye!
Follow your Captains, crown your Kings,
But what will ye give to the lad that sings?
City of Song shall stand alway.
For the voice ye hear is the voice of home,
Long ago, long ago,
And the voice of Youth with the world to roam.
Clifton for aye!
The voice of passion and human tears,
And the voice of the vision that lights the years.
City of Song shall stand alway.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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The Wind O' Death.
Oh! we hae a' to die, dear,
We're a' to gang awa';
We, when Death's wind blows by, dear,
Like apples hae to fa';
Howe'er we may be clinging,
Be green or rosy hinging,
When we hear the wind singing
A glamour's over a'.
We drap unto the ground, dear,
Each frae the boughs we fa',
When we hear the wind sound, dear,
The voice in the wind ca'!
It comes through leagues o' heaven,
A dream-joy to it given,
It comes at morn or even
Wi' the glamour over a'.
We'll wait for it to blow, dear —
How sweet the birdies ca'!
The flowers come and go, dear,
There's peace atween us twa:
The love-light round us clinging,
'Tis sweet, together hinging,
To wait for the wind's singing
Wi' the glamour over a'.
poem by Robert Crawford
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