Hı. Bırd of The Sprıng Season, What is your name / [ Part -5 ]
My repeated queries to one and all
Yield no result and i am exhausted
Every one blink with wide eyes
Even outwitting a seasoned owl!
We know the edges of coins
Even if perfectly blind-folded!
But who here would know
Your pretty worthless name?
Call me 'mad' and make fun of me
And aim on my back derisive looks
My faith in them has gone forever;
And no more would i ask for your name!
Even the name given to you
By these tasteless people casually
Would not suit you perfect
And not match your beauty and spirit!
i will assign a new name with love
If at all the old name again crop up
Let it crumble and vanish for ever
And the new name rule this world!
While my mind is on a hunt for a very sweet name
The fact that you are the essence of the Spring season
Flash across my mind and hereafter i will call you
'VASANTHAROOPAM', 'The Incarnation of the Spring' season!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Related quotes
The Season Of Spring
THE SEASON OF SPRING
the season of spring
weather seems to sing
lovely lovely days
are coming our ways
the season of spring
blooming blossoming
of nature of all kind
let roots unbind
the season of spring
birds unfold their wings
diving high into sky
wish one could fly
the season of spring
careful hearts love sting
reaching out towards others
some persons might bother
the season of spring
nice sound bells ring
new wave new style
faces have on a smile
the season of spring
an new awakening
busy humanity on earth
as if it’s a new birth
listen listen to my words
the season of spring is near
now a look into your lovely eyes
and one can see spring is already here
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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The Growing Season
The seasons work together
To make the world possible
Summer, the sun season
Fall, the leaf season
Winter, the snow season
And spring, the time of beauty
Summer, the yellow season
Fall, the orange season
Winter, the white season
And spring, the time of the rainbow
Summer, the blank season
Fall, the shadow season
Winter, the dying season
And spring, the growing season
The growing season
Sense Of Spring
Spring is the loveliest season of them all,
A source of life and love and gentle things,
Reward for winter's frost and icy pall.
A time when fledglings spread their tiny wings.
Spring is the gentlest season of them all,
When lambs their frail appendages must try,
The sheep stay close, concerned lest they should fall,
And gently nuzzle them to help them try.
Spring is the brightest season of them all,
Spring flowers yellow, mauve and red and blue,
And grasses growing silky, slender, tall;
And trees whose leaves are green of every hue.
Spring is the shortest season of them all,
Dissolving into summer's eager call.
poem by John Knight
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Spring Is
Spring is birds singing their heads off
Spring is a beautiful season full of color
Spring is the constant war between the sun and rain
Spring is the light at the end of the long winter tunnel
Spring is the season that brings back life
poem by Kristina Lybbert
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A Spring Message
May the Spring Season fill your heart
With love and joy today
To bring you peace and comfort
In every beautiful way.
May the thoughts of Spring
Glow warmly in your heart
Where memories of the past
Ever play an important part.
May a Spring day be extra special
With the beauty of blossoms of snow,
May the sunshine make them attractive
And bring a festive glow.
May the warmth of the Spring air,
The songbirds and colorful flowers
Fill the day with cheerfulness
And many happy and rewarding hours.
May those you love surround you
To share your glorious day,
May the memories of the Spring Season,
Linger in your life to forever stay.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Spring Is The season
Spring is the season
For buds to become full bloom
Beyond illusion
Spring is the season
When birds sing new melody
All in unison
spring is the season
For new dreams to come alive
In color vision
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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A Spring Garden
The blossoming of new life
A spring garden of beauty
To prepare you to embrace
The season with freshness,
To offer her benevolence
A smile of love and vigor
The beauty of flowers budding
Bees and butterflies rejoicing
Spreading fragrance of spring
To awaken you in her blossom
To begin a new day's chore
To offer your due diligence
To receive her gift of loyalty
To bask in spring’s newness
To immerse in her novelty
To enjoy the season as it unfolds
To soak up in her divine beauty
Wrapped in evening splendor!
poem by Oyekake Satty Joshua
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The Spring Song
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
One more time, I am on cloud nine!
One more time, I am on cloud nine!
To dance Bihu this season…
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
The spring breeze acts as my heart stirrer
The Red flowers redden my heart’s colour.
The beats of the Dhol cast its rhythmic flavour..
It rightly awakens some sleeping lover.
“O’ brothers, O’ boys! O’ come O’ girls! ! ”
“O’ brothers, O’ boys! O’O’O’ come O’ girls! ! ”
“Lets dance Bihu holding our hands together”
“Lets dance Bihu holding our hands together”.
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
Different castes and community…
It’s a hallmark of Assam’s beauty.
Keeping aside conflicts of ethnicity..
W’ll give Assam, golden identity..
“O’ spring lovers! O’ O’ O’ country lovers! ”
“O’ spring lovers! O’ O’ O’ country lovers! ”
“In this spring, let us pledge together! ”
“In this spring, let us pledge together! ”
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
The cuckoos and the swallows sing the spring song.
They just remind us of spring season.
One more time, I am on cloud nine! !
One more time, I am on cloud nine! !
To dance Bihu this season…
(Originally sung in Assamese as ‘Kuli Ketekiye Eenaley Beenaley’ by Dr. Bhupen Hazarika)
(Set to original tune)
poem by Kamal Jyoti Borah
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The Beauty of Spring
The Beauty of Spring
I am looking out of a glass window.
I see a group of cherry blossom trees in the distance.
Nearby, there is a quaint little house.
This magnificence takes my breathe away.
The Beauty of Spring.
Daffodils are blooming.
Butterflies are fluttering through the air.
Robins are singing there beautiful song.
The world is coming back to life after a long winter.
The Beauty of Spring.
A gentle breeze skims across my face.
I inhale the sweet scent of flowers.
I see a world of gorgeous and vivid colors.
I absolutely love spring.
The Beauty of Spring.
I am Taking in The Beauty of Spring
poem by Bleeding Heart
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Sojourning and Wandering
AUTUMN
A GOOD stay-at-home season is Autumn: then there's
work to be joined in by all:
Though the fawns, where the brackens make covert, may range away undeterred,
The stags that were lone upon hillocks now give heed to the call,
To the bellowing call of the hinds, and they draw back to the herd.
A good stay-at-home season is Autumn; the brown world's marked into fields;
The corn is up to its growth; the acorns teem in the wood;
By the side of the down-fallen fort even the thorn-bush yields
A crop, and there by the rath the hazel nuts drop from a load.
SPRING
Now, coming on Spring, the days will be growing,
And after Saint Bride's Day my sail I will throw;
Since the thought has come to me I fain would be going,
Till I stand in the middle of the County Mayo!
The first of my days will be spent in Claremorris,
And in Balla, beside it, I'll have drinking and sport,
To Kiltimagh, then, I will go on a visit,
And there, I can tell you, a month will be short.
I solemnly swear that the heart in me rises,
As the wind rises up and the mists break below,
When I think upon Carra, and on Gallen down from it,
The Bush of the Mile, and the Plains of Mayo!
Killeadean's my village, and every good's in it;
The rasp and blackberry to set to one's tooth;
And if Raftery stood in the midst of his people,
Old age would go from him, and he'd step to his youth!
poem by Padraic Colum
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A Spring
(not the season)
A spring
A perennial source of inspiration
about it
we have loads and loads of information
and that
we have as our scriptures
to depict that
we have made our sculptures
we call all these.....
our rich heritages from our ancestors
WHERE IS THAT SPRING....
A PERRENIAL SOURCE OF INSPIRATION
Have we lost sight of it due to our pride?
A spring could'nt be encaptured
A spring could'nt be stored
The scriptures and sculptures were reservoires....
born out of this spring
Just a pride about those....
would'nt bring back the spring.
The scriptures and sculptures are not an ' over ' thing
it was just a ' beginning ' thing
This spring can neither have a beginning nor ending
it is a perennial thing.
WHERE IS THAT SPRING.....
A PERENNIAL SORCE OF INSPIRATION
How do we find this spring
It's just not a common thing
to be found by one and be used by all
Do we need a ' DIVINER ' to divine this spring?
THE DIVINITY IN 'YOU'
HAS TO DIVINE THIS PERENNIAL SPRING ' IN YOU'
' FOR YOU '
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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New Spring
Spring!
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring! How wonderful is the
Spring! How majestic is the
Spring! How fantastic is the
Spring! How tantalizing is the
Spring! How glorious is the
Spring! How melodious is the
Spring! How joyful is the
Spring! How breathtaking is the
Spring! How uplifting the
Spring! How happy is the
Spring! How magnificent is the
Spring! How colorful is the
Spring! How tasteful is the
Spring! How memorable was the
Spring! How flavorful is the
Spring! How aromic is the
Spring! How sweet is
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring!
poem by Mario Saboundjian
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That Crack We Call Love
Your(My) breath in break
Your(My) heart in beak
our eyelids blink; blink
though the light of noon
we are blind
totally blind
ease and bless
for our souls
but crabby mad
for our minds
so that..
that crack we call love
we call love
we need love
we shout love
whispering love
smiling love
crying love
sing for love
dreaming love
feight for love
live for love
die for love
love for love
life for love
love for life
and all that
crack..
you call
i call
we call
love.
poem by Sallam Yassin
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Call Me Claus
May not know by lookin' at me
Who you're looking at exactly
Wonder who could that be in your stockin'
Suit of red and cheeks of cherry
Lookin' extraordinary
Spare me cause you scare with your gawkin'
Hold your applause
Pick up your jaws
Call me Claus, hoah
I got the spirit of the season in me
Spreadin' joy and toys a'plenty
Nimbly down your chimney I'll be bumpin'
Give me room 'cause I'm a packin'
Only time for toys and snackin'
Love to stay here yackin'
But I'm humpin'
I got a cause
No time to pause
They call me Claus
Hoah, call me Santa
Call me Kringle
Call me Old Saint Nick
All those have a beautiful ring
Pleasin' is the reason
And the season's a kick
When your Santa
Baby, you gotta swing
Swing, I dare ya, yeah
Hey, call me Santa
Call me Kringle
Call me Old Saint Nick
All those have a beautiful ring
Pleasin' is the reason
And the season's a kick
When you Santa
Baby, you gotta swing
So while in your jammies sleepin'
Roof to roof I'll be a leapin'
Quickly if your creepin' for a peepin'
The oohs and aahs
Are all because
They call me Claus
Hold your applause
Hey, watch the paws
They call me Claus
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nature's Season's
Season's come and season's go,
There are four in each year,
Of our time keeping.
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
In other parts of the world,
Their season's are called something else,
Each Season is,
Of different type,
Yet,
Two and Two,
To begin and become,
Spring shows the begining,
Of growth and new season,
So for plants,
Vegetation,
Spring Chickens,
Spring Lambs,
The Calflings,
The Fouls,
All come in the Spring,
And flourish in the Summer,
Summer shows bloom,
From the plants to the Fouls,
And all are seen in full bloom,
Even the birds and the bees,
Sing the songs,
Of spring and summer,
With the Sun's rays,
That shows nature,
In full bloom,
By the time,
All is in full bloom,
And what shows and blooms,
Blossoms all summer,
And just when we are relaxed,
And see no clouds in the sky,
The seson changes,
Beginning with,
The fall,
Autumn's,
Season,
Commences to begin,
Where,
All in bloom,
Falls away and decays,
While the rest,
Fly away,
And,
Migrate,
Or,
Hibernate,
And just when,
We have seen it all disappear,
The frost and snow,
Covers all over,
And chills the air,
Where the chilling effect,
Kills off all decay,
And the blue ice time period,
Takes over for a time,
Chilling,
Freeezing,
Keeping everything beneath the earth,
As winter sets itself right in,
And far beneath the froasted earth,
Is all in nature,
Rekindling itself,
To regrowth itself,
And then spring growth,
Again,
Next season,
That starts the circle of life,
2 x 2 = 4,
The four seasons,
Of,
Our circle of life,
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
The four seasons,
Of ours,
That is 2 x 2,
Spring and Summer,
Then,
Autumn and Winter,
That makes it known,
As 4 seasons,
To us all.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Spring conflagrations
early spring
flowers smile and bow
to the cool breeze
the sun shines with
the exact intensity
to enable this heart
to open up, in the
blossoming of
the new season
hastily, iccicles
and snow count away
each last dropp of winter
so that wondrous spring could
take centrestage in time
intoxicated bees buzz
making stops at
the sweetest
and most fragrant
conflagrations
of the latest spring
butterflies flip
their wings
turning each second
of the season
into an artistic and
colourful adventure
for my mind
their excitement
the fashion of a child
the first time he lays hands
on his favourite cartoons
and the birds
spring crystalises
in each clear chrip
amidst their battle of songs
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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On this day of Spring Original by Rabindranath Tagore
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
My friend's heart is as soft
As a little flower
Whose negligence makes it
So terribly suffer
Why do you come to her
And try to make her laugh
The one who used to come
Now doesn't care enough
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
God please keep the happy
People always happy
And let the Spring season
Of joy pass by smoothly
God don't let the happy
People see her in tears
Since they overlook her
And want to live in cheers
So many flowers bloom
On this day of Spring
So many flutes are played
So many birds sing
On this day of Spring
On this day of Spring
poem by Asif Andalib
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Time Spent In Pursuit Of Love Meant
No season seems more anticipated,
Than Spring.
No other time does life seem more appreciated,
Than Spring.
With flowers blooming, birds singing....And leaves,
Beginning to bud on barren trees...
Turning green.
And in Spring...
Time spent in pursuit of love meant,
By those young...
Reminds those that are not,
How blessed we are...
To witness another Spring to come.
No season seems more anticipated,
Than Spring.
No other time does life seem more appreciated,
Than Spring.
And in Spring...
Time spent in pursuit of love meant,
By those young...
Reminds those that are not,
How blessed we are...
To witness another Spring to come.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We would load up the yellow Cutlass Supreme station wagon and pick blackberries during blackberry season or spring onions during spring onion season. For us, food was part of the fabric of our day.
quote by Mario Batali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Season
My season has ended, and so a new one begins.
Winter's old death, turning into spring's new life.
Sleeping flowers awaken, unleashing the beauty that lay dormant.
A bitter chill, to a warm breeze.
A wailing howling wind, to the peaceful sounds of birds chirping.
Frosts grip loosens and turns to morning dew.
Embracing what was once taken for granted.
Life, love and liberty.
Life once overlooked, now life looked over.
Love once ignored, now love is explored.
A prisoner once chained to mind,
Now liberated, my spirit roams free.
The new season brings new rules.
Not the rules of my old existence,
But the rules of universal love.
For my love to be true,
My life must be as well.
As it is love's experience,
That emerges from life's journey.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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